A Satisfying Trap for the Relatives
The homeroom teacher looked mildly startled and asked again, “An interview? You can decide that on the spot? Once you say yes, you can’t take it back, you know.”
“Yes. I’ll do it.”
“Heh. Well, now.”
He gave a dry little laugh, then smiled as he said, “Do-hyun, I think I’m even happier to see you looking so confident than I am to see that you got a perfect score on the CSAT.”
“······.”
“Though I suppose the perfect score had something to do with it.”
He gave my shoulder a light pat and continued, “Then I’ll let them know you’re doing the interview. There’s been a lot of talk about this year’s test being unusually difficult, so reporters from the political desk are coming too. Keep that in mind.”
“Political reporters?”
“Yeah. Apparently a lot of the sons and daughters of important people took the CSAT this year. Because of that, one lawmaker even said the test might have been too hard.”
I’d been busy lately and hadn’t heard about any of that, but so that was what had been going on.
“I’ll text you the interview schedule. It could be as early as tomorrow, so be ready.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
“Good. Get home safely.”
By the time he finished speaking, he was already headed back toward the teachers’ office.
For someone whose head shone like that, he was incredibly fast for his build.
Zero. If they’re political reporters, aren’t they basically the most influential of all reporters?
Given the subject matter, yes. They are also among the strongest writers in the field.
That made this better, not worse.
They’d season my words with a generous amount of MSG and spice.
My revenge on my relatives... this time, I’ll start small and tighten the noose little by little.
Of course, the relatives weren’t the only people I had to get back at.
The people who’d cheated my grandfather out of his land compensation money.
But I was planning to handle them separately. Those scammers hadn’t committed some “family matter” like my relatives had. They’d committed a crime. So I wouldn’t punish them with embarrassment. I’d hit them with the law.
Sometime later. Maybe soon.
The next morning, our house had two small changes.
The first was that my report card had been hung on the wall beside the dining table.
Not just hung, either. It was framed, displayed like a work of art.
“Just looking at that report card makes me feel full, Mom.”
Clink.
My mother took a big spoonful of rice and looked at the report card.
She savored the sight of it, then took another spoonful.
Then she looked at the report card again.
Then she ate more rice.
······That’s not dried yellow corvina, you know.
My father had left for work earlier than usual, so he couldn’t eat with us.
Even so, he had taken a photo of my report card with his phone and saved it as his wallpaper.
He really did seem that proud.
Seohee widened her eyes and asked Mother, “Mom, do you like Oppa’s report card that much?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? I always tell you, Seohee, just follow your brother’s lead. Match half of your brother’s grades... no, half won’t do. Try for ninety percent.”
“Yeees, yeees.”
Seohee answered dryly, then stole a glance at me and asked, “······I’m more curious about Oppa’s hair than his CSAT score, actually.”
Right.
My hairstyle. That was the house’s second little change.
Zero said it’d be better to cut it neatly before the interview, so I got it trimmed yesterday.
It was the so-called “universal likability student” cut Zero had recommended for me, the one that suited me best... Was there something wrong with it?
“What is it, Seohee? Does my hair look weird?”
“Huh? N-no? It looks cool... no, it suits you!”
Seohee jumped at my question and hurriedly added, “······I just mean, your hair was long before, right? The sides were long enough to cover your ears. So when you suddenly cut it short, I wondered if something happened. ...That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suit you! It really does!”
“Something happened? Like what?”
“You know. Like when people break up and cut their hair, or put a mole on their face and change how they look. I thought maybe it was something like that.”
“Who said that?”
“A drama.”
I figured she must watch a lot of dramas.
“I just cut it neatly because I’ve got an interview today. I never had a girlfriend to begin with.”
“Aah...! But your old hair wasn’t messy or anything! It suited you too! This is just neater, so it suits you even better!”
Seohee’s voice brightened again.
My hair was now cut short on the sides and back, with the bangs pushed up in front.
Later on, people would give it names like an Ivy League cut or a crop cut, but it was basically what people called a sports cut.
In other words, a short schoolboy cut.
With my long hair gone, my head felt lighter and my face looked much clearer, which I liked.
There was one downside, though. Once the hair that used to cover my ears disappeared, my ears got cold.
Mother asked, “Do-hyun, what time did they say the interview was today?”
“The teacher texted me last night. Ten o’clock in the morning.”
“Then it’ll be almost right after you get to school, won’t it? Did you hear when the article and broadcast will come out? I want to brag about it at the restaurant.”
There was no need to brag that much.
And I wished she’d stop working at the restaurant already.
I was about to say that, but since she was proud of me, I just felt happy.
“The paper will come out tomorrow. The online article will probably go up a little earlier. The news will likely be on the nine o’clock broadcast.”
“Then I should call your father. We’ll all watch TV together at nine tonight. Seohee, you come home early after evening study hall today too.”
“Yes! Mom, then can we order something tasty? Like chicken, or chicken, or maybe just more chicken!”
“You always want something ordered in... no!”
“Boo...” Seohee pouted, then turned sparkling eyes on me. “...Oppa?”
She looked at me like a cat in boots from a movie.
I laughed before I could stop myself and spoke to Mother. “Mom, should we have chicken after a while?”
“Huh? If that’s what Do-hyun wants, of course.”
“Yay! ...I mean, Mom, that’s mean.”
“You get a perfect score on the CSAT too. Then I’ll order chicken every day.”
“Ugh...”
Sitting together as a family at night and watching TV like that.
It had been a long time since we’d done something so ordinary, and somehow that simple thing made me look forward to the evening.
I need to do well in the interview.
I hadn’t been nervous at all before, but now that I knew my parents and Seohee would be watching, I felt a little tense.
Still, it wasn’t bad tension.
More like a small flutter, the kind that made me want to do even better.
As I was eating breakfast again, I asked about something I’d nearly forgotten because I’d been so busy lately.
“Mom, you said you were looking for a new place to move to, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find somewhere you like?”
“Well...”
My mother trailed off, then said, “Once you start weighing everything, it gets hard to find the right place. Seohee’s school, your father’s workplace. I can’t sit around doing nothing either, so if I have to work, it’d be better to live somewhere with a lot of restaurants nearby. And you need to be close to your university too.”
She didn’t need to worry about my university.
“Mom, do you have to keep working? Now that you’ve got me, you don’t need to work anymore either.”
“Listen to you. People have to work. If they don’t, they rot.”
“Even so, you could rest a little. Your wrists aren’t in good shape, Mom. And your back too.”
“······.”
At my words, Mother looked down at her wrists for a moment. Both wrists were covered in pain patches.
“And you don’t need to worry about my university. I can always live alone, or stay in a dorm.”
W-wait, Oppa’s going to live alone? A college student living alone means...
“Wouldn’t living alone be expensive, though? If it’s near the university district?”
“I’ll make money. I got a perfect score on the CSAT, so I should be able to take on a tutoring job or two, right?”
“Hoho... is that so?”
“And I still have a little left over besides the money I gave you before. I’ve been steadily growing it through stocks. So if you find a house you like and the money’s short, just tell me. And if Seohee has to transfer schools because of the move, it’d be better to do it as soon as possible, before her new semester starts.”
“······.”
“Honestly, changing neighborhoods altogether might feel like a fresh start. Seohee, how do you feel about transferring schools?”
“I’m fine with it! I don’t mind! ...But I’d still like it if Oppa could live at home and go to school.”
“There you have it.”
“Hmm...”
Mother thought about it again for a moment, then gave a soft snort.
“All right. Then I’ll look for a good place. But I’m not spending any more of your money. What you gave me is already plenty.”
“Yes. Then I’ll look around too.”
“Forget it, you brat. Houses are something adults should look at if they want to know what’s good. Hurry up and eat. You’ll be late for school.”
With those words, she lifted her spoon again.
Only this time, she wasn’t looking at my CSAT report card on the wall. She was looking at me.
The way she looked at me seemed full of pride and ease.
Jinil High School principal’s office.
The principal of Jinil High wore a deeply satisfied expression as he looked at the reporters and cameras filling the office, and a content smile spread across his face.
So many reporters showed up. Heh heh heh.
Still laughing to himself, he spoke to Hwang Seongjae, Kim Do-hyun’s homeroom teacher, who stood awkwardly beside him.
“Teacher Hwang, you’ve done a tremendous thing this year. A perfect score on the CSAT, no less.”
“Ah... I didn’t really do much. Do-hyun worked hard.”
“So modest. Still, it’s a waste to leave someone like Teacher Hwang stuck as a homeroom teacher. Have you really no interest in becoming vice principal? If you keep taking only third-year homeroom classes, the stress might make your hair fall out...”
The principal started to say “hair fall out,” then let the rest trail away.
Hwang Seongjae had almost no hair left to lose.
“...Anyway, think about moving up to vice principal soon. You can’t just keep collecting years at the school forever, can you? You should be aiming to go to the education office and reach a higher position, like I did. And for that, vice principal is essential.”
“Yes, I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Thanks to you this time, they’re saying I’ll get a good evaluation at the education office too, so I’ll get a position ready there in advance. You just need to show up.”
As the principal and Hwang Seongjae were talking, a student in uniform entered through the office door. It was Kim Do-hyun.
Seeing him, the principal smiled as if he had always taken especially good care of him.
“Ah, Do-hyun’s here! Come on over, muahaha!”
Click. Click.
The reporters snapped photos of the scene.
The principal and Kim Do-hyun weren’t normally close, so if Do-hyun looked awkward, the photos might come out strangely.
But.
“Yes, sir.”
Without the slightest awkwardness, Kim Do-hyun calmly shook the principal’s hand and smiled.
Seeing that, Hwang Seongjae let out a relieved breath.
Do-hyun really has changed a lot. He’s this confident now, and he’s quicker on the uptake too.
Either way, it was a relief. From the looks of it, he didn’t seem all that nervous in front of the reporters, either.
If anything, Hwang Seongjae felt like the one who was most nervous here.
After finishing his greetings with the principal, Kim Do-hyun bowed at ninety degrees to the reporters and said, “Reporters, the weather’s cold too, so thank you for coming all this way. I’m Kim Do-hyun, and I was lucky enough to do well on the CSAT.”
······?
Oh...
Oho...
He’s not acting high and mighty.
He’s got the basics down.
I hear people say you’re either handsome, good at studying, or full of yourself. This is the first time I’ve seen someone who’s all three.
That student is the unusual one. Most kids are just like Reporter Park, good only at studying.
Hey, senior, why would you say that? I had a decent personality back then.
I’ll hold back on the swearing since there’s a student here.
Unless you’re a politician, celebrity, or someone used to cameras, it’s very rare for an ordinary person to politely greet reporters before an interview.
And since quite a few reporters had already assumed that a “perfect scorer” like Kim Do-hyun would be arrogant, some of them found his unexpected manner refreshing.
The principal beamed even more brightly at him and said, “Hahaha! Then I’m sure everyone’s busy, so shall we get the interview started quickly?”
The interview began in earnest.
At first, the reporters asked the principal and homeroom teacher all sorts of questions instead of asking me.
Things like, “As a third-year homeroom teacher, how do you plan to teach your students?” or “Does the principal have a special philosophy for how he runs the school?” Those were the sort of formal questions they asked.
Zero, I haven’t made any major mistakes so far, right?
You have made no mistakes and are doing very well. In particular, your courteous greeting to the reporters at the beginning helped set the tone for the interview. No one dislikes a polite person, especially reporters.
That was a relief.
After about ten minutes, the interviews with the principal and homeroom teacher ended.
Then one reporter asked me, “Student Kim Do-hyun, this is probably what most people are curious about. Could you tell us how you studied?”
How I studied.
A formal question, but in a way, the most important one.
Since I’d expected exactly that, I gave the answer I’d prepared in advance.
“To be honest, I didn’t have the spare time to study anything beyond my textbooks. I didn’t have money for expensive workbooks or academy tuition, so I focused on the textbooks.”
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
Click. Click.
At my answer, the reporters quickly began writing. Camera shutters clicked busily too.
“I studied by looking over the textbooks hundreds of times until the material was burned into my head. Maybe because I’m not that smart, simple memorization didn’t work very well for me. So I tried to study the reason behind why things were the way they were.”
The reporters’ hands moved even faster. They wrote things like, “Studied despite a difficult home environment” and “Focused on understanding rather than memorization.”
At that moment, a female reporter with a bob cut raised her hand from the back.
She had a very different presence from the other reporters.
“As this year’s perfect scorer, what did you think of this year’s CSAT difficulty? Some people are saying it was unnecessarily hard and encouraged private education.”
Even for a perfect scorer, that was a rather sensitive question to ask a student.
It was also a difficult one to answer.
But Kim Do-hyun answered without hesitation, as if he’d been expecting it.
“It was indeed difficult, but I think everything on it was within the curriculum. I was able to get every question right even though I only studied from textbooks.”
He was lying through his teeth, but the reporters didn’t know that, so they nodded along.
“And I also felt that the CSAT authority had already warned us enough through the June and September mock exams about the direction the actual test would take.”
“Warned you?”
“Yes. In Korean, we had to infer words that weren’t directly given in the passages, and in math, it required efficient methods rather than simple calculation. That was a direction they hadn’t used for several years, and I studied while thinking of it as a warning from the test board.”
No reporter here had actually taken the CSAT, so none of them could fully understand the “direction” I was talking about.
But that didn’t matter. If the nation’s only perfect scorer said so, then that must be how it was.
Nod, nod.
The female reporter who had asked the question and the others all nodded again.
“Which university do you plan to apply to? And which department?”
At that question, I answered at once.
“I plan to enter Korea University’s College of Engineering, Department of Computer Engineering.”
“So, naturally, Korea University’s pre-med... huh?”
“Computer Engineering.”
At my unexpected answer, the reporters’ pens never stopped moving.
The interview continued for quite a while after that.
By then the reporters were probably running out of questions, because the pace of questioning gradually slowed.
Then, finally, a reporter standing at the very back of the group, one who looked older and more seasoned than the rest at a glance, asked me, “Student Kim Do-hyun, you certainly must have worked hard yourself, but behind your success there were probably many people who helped you. Could you take this chance to thank them?”
The tone of his voice was rather friendly. From the moment I’d bowed at ninety degrees earlier, he had already been looking at me favorably as “a kid who’s polite for these days.”
Stories about a student who got a perfect score despite a poor home environment. That alone already makes people look kindly on him, but if he goes further and thanks someone, he’ll become even more likable.
Given how I hadn’t flinched at the more sensitive questions from the other reporters, this one shouldn’t be hard either.
My school teachers, my family, my friends, thank you. That would be enough.
“······.”
But for some reason, I couldn’t answer right away. I even found myself looking thoughtful for a moment.
After a long silence, I slowly opened my mouth.
“First, I’d like to thank the principal and my homeroom teacher for believing in me until the end. In particular, my homeroom teacher helped me a great deal so I wouldn’t give up on school.”
······.
“The people I’m most grateful to, of course, are my family. I’d like to thank my parents for supporting me while working late into the night and even on weekends. I truly respect and love them.”
The reporters nodded.
It might have been a standard, formulaic answer, but that was exactly why it was such a good one.
“But...”
Just as everyone was expecting a warm, tidy ending and getting ready to wrap up the interview.
My voice sank lower, firmer, and the entire room braced itself for something no one had expected.
“There are some people I can’t help but hate.”
······?
······?
······?
In an instant, the principal’s office froze.
The reporters, just about to pack away the interview, turned their attention back to me.
Everyone had latched onto those words: “people I hate.”
That word can absolutely not appear in an interview flow like this, can it?
The reporters realized it instinctively.
Something delicious, something that would become a headline and a news item, was about to come out of Kim Do-hyun’s mouth.
“Student Kim Do-hyun. People you hate? Did you perhaps experience school violence or some other issue?”
“?!”
“?!”
At the sharp question, the principal’s and Hwang Seongjae’s faces stiffened.
“No. It’s not a school issue.”
“Whew...”
“Hah...”
At that answer, the two of them relaxed again.
Kim Do-hyun looked straight at the camera pointed at him and said, “The people I hate are my relatives. The ones who dumped my grandfather’s debt on my father, then pretended it was none of their business afterward. The ones who even came to our house several times a month, causing a scene and asking whether we were hiding some secret money.”
There are three kinds of stories South Koreans love most.
First, trashing politicians.
Second, the private lives of sports stars and celebrities.
Third, family fights in other people’s houses.
And if it happened to be the family of the nation’s only CSAT perfect scorer, then of course it would draw attention.
Newspaper sales, online article views, and television ratings were bound to rise.
─ !
─ Huh?
─ ······!
─ Hey, hey!
─ Ah, I already turned off my laptop...
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
The reporters’ hands moved even faster.
From that point on, it was a race to see who could write and upload the article the fastest.