A Perfect Score and a Summons
I brought Seohee home and led her inside. The moment we stepped through the door, the kitchen and living room came into view.
My parents were seated at the dining table, fidgeting anxiously in front of a pizza box they hadn’t even opened yet, afraid it would get cold. The delivery had apparently arrived while I was out.
When Seohee and I came in together, Mother asked in a startled voice, “Oh... Dohyun, were you out looking for Seohee? She wasn’t answering her phone at all. How did you find her?”
“Yes. I ran into her while I was out for a walk.”
I didn’t tell them that she’d been hanging around with delinquent kids. There was no need to say something that would only hurt Mother and Father.
Instead, I said something else.
“Mom, Dad. Seohee won’t be hanging around bad kids anymore. She promised me she wouldn’t.”
“!”
“!”
My parents reacted in perfect unison, looking shocked, delighted, and a little as if they were asking, How?
They must have told Seohee countless times not to mix with bad company, but nothing ever changed. So of course they were surprised that a short conversation with me had done what their repeated scolding could not.
“Seohee, tell them. Say you’re sorry to Mom and Dad.”
“...Mom, Dad. I’m sorry.”
Seohee lowered her head and fidgeted with her fingers. Watching her like that, she looked exactly like a high school freshman.
Mother stared blankly and said, “Seohee’s actually listening to her brother for once?”
“I just... decided I should.”
“I don’t know what happened, but I’m really glad. Listen to your brother, and that’ll be enough.”
“That’s right. You made a very good decision.”
My parents seemed so pleased with Seohee’s change that their faces were glowing with soft smiles. More than when I’d worked part-time for a month and brought home a million won.
So Mom and Dad valued us more than money after all.
That’s right.
Then Mother clapped her hands and said, “Ah, I forgot. Let’s eat the pizza quickly. It’ll get cold.”
“Wooow, pizza! Thank you for the food—!”
Apparently starving, Seohee—who’d been gloomy just moments ago—flopped down in front of the table and immediately reached for the pizza box.
I thought that was a lovely sight.
But before her hand could touch the box,
Smack!
Mother struck Seohee’s hand and scolded her. “You little brat, your brother hasn’t even sat down yet. And wash your hands first!”
“Mm... okay.”
Though she sounded offended, Seohee really did dash to the sink and wash her hands at lightning speed. She must have been terribly hungry.
Once everyone was seated, Father said, “All right then. Let’s eat.”
“Thank you for the food.”
“Thank you for the food!”
We started eating pizza as a family. It was only a single pie. To someone else, it might have been nothing special, but to me, right then, it felt like the most precious feast in the world.
...It’s delicious. So damn delicious.
The pizza itself was good, but what I loved even more was seeing my parents’ bright faces and Seohee stuffing her cheeks so full they looked ready to burst.
“Then I’m tired, so I’m going to go in and rest first.”
After I’d eaten two or three slices and stood up, Father asked, “Why are you getting up already? Have some more.”
“Didn’t you hold back because you thought there wouldn’t be enough? Dohyun, should I order more?”
My parents usually didn’t say much, but tonight they were unusually chatty. They must have been in such good spirits that they couldn’t help themselves.
“No, I’m full. I’m just sleepy.”
“Oh, I see. You worked hard taking the CSAT today, so get some rest!”
“That’s right, Dohyun. But wash up before you sleep, okay?”
“Mmgh... oppa, sleep wel!”
Leaving behind my parents’ and Seohee’s voices, I went into my room.
Creaaak...
When I lay down on the bed, the old springs groaned beneath me. It was the kind of sound that seemed to symbolize poverty, and I’d always hated it, but tonight it sounded gentle, almost like a lullaby.
...
Lying there, I stared up at the ceiling. The wallpaper had peeled and stained the overhead surface, making the room look shabby. The boiler barely worked, so the air was cold, and a chill draft kept brushing across my face.
But right now, I felt like I was staying in a five-star hotel.
I want to keep feeling this way. I want to keep seeing my parents’ happy faces, and keep feeling the joy of Seohee living the right way.
That will definitely happen, Master. I will make sure of it.
Thanks, Zero. So what’s our schedule looking like from here?
I had worked out at least part of the plan already, but asking Zero always made things clearer.
Yes, Master. First, tomorrow you will go to school.
While Zero was explaining, Seohee’s shocked voice came from outside the room.
— Whaaaat?! Oppa got a perfect score on the CSAT?!
— Shh! You’ll wake oppa up.
— Ah, right... w-we need to be quiet. But did oppa really get a perfect score?!
She wasn’t quiet at all, Seohee.
Then again, even if they did speak softly, I’d hear them just fine. The sound carried straight through the broken doorframe and thin walls.
— Didn’t oppa tell me just now that he only did so-so on the exam?
— That’s because oppa’s being modest. Dohyun was probably so busy with part-time work he barely had time to study... That boy, honestly.
— Wow...
— Seohee, now that you’ve come to your senses, go flatter your brother and ask him to teach you some studying. I overheard at the restaurant that private tutoring is more popular than cram schools these days. But the popular tutors are so busy they can’t take on students. There are just too many kids begging to study with them.
— Sh-should I? Maybe I should ask oppa about studying...
— Why, do you not want to learn from your brother?
— ...No, I do.
The conversation went on like that. I spoke to Zero again.
Zero, did I stop you because I got distracted by Mom and Seohee talking?
That is correct, Master. Family matters are the most important to you. Should I continue with the plan?
Yeah, sorry. Go on.
Yes. First, tomorrow Master will go to school. There, you will be asked to submit your estimated CSAT score sheet, and based on that score, your homeroom teacher will conduct your admissions counseling.
I remembered it well. After the CSAT, they’d show a movie in class and call students into the teachers’ office one by one for admissions counseling.
Back then, I’d gotten a miserable score, so my homeroom teacher suggested we take a gamble. A gamble on applying to an unpopular department at a local national university with low tuition—the kind of department that might barely have enough applicants to fill its quota.
Even that school had been a university with a score range well above what my CSAT results should have allowed.
And yet I got in anyway. At the very bottom of the waitlist.
That’s right. The university and department your homeroom teacher chose back then were, by my calculations, the absolute best you could have reached with your score. Your homeroom teacher was an excellent admissions strategist.
To be recognized by Zero like that.
So the homeroom teacher had really been something.
Tomorrow, your homeroom teacher will call you into the teachers’ office the moment he sees your estimated score.
Zero continued explaining. I closed my eyes, listened to her, and gradually drifted off to sleep.
I should wash up... but tonight, I’m just going to sleep. I want to bask in this warm, wonderful feeling a little longer.
“I’m off to school.”
“I’m going!”
“All right, be careful of cars!”
Seohee and I left the house together, and Mother waved us off with a bright, easy smile. Father had already left for work before us.
Our house and school weren’t that far apart—about a fifteen-minute walk.
That said, because it was a rather secluded villa neighborhood, the kids who smoked would sometimes go charging up their nicotine reserves in the alley before school.
So as you walked through the alleys, you’d often spot some smoking delinquent here and there.
— Hey, hey! Put it out!
— Why? Is the discipline teacher here...? Huh?!
— ...I-it’s Seohee’s brother.
— My brother Minho sent a text last night saying never to run into him—
— Shut up, you moron...!
— S-senior, hello! We, uh... we’d better go!
The moment the first-year students—who were smoking, and whose name tags showed they were the same grade as Seohee—saw my face, they crushed out their cigarettes, bowed ninety degrees, and fled like they’d seen a ghost.
Seohee poked my side with her elbow.
“Wow, oppa, you’re like the local celebrity? Looks like everybody heard about what you did at the playground yesterday!”
“What do you mean, what I did? I just talked to them.”
“You just talked? Pfft...”
I didn’t know why those little delinquents were so scared of me, but either way, it worked out.
Now Seohee wouldn’t have to get tangled up with trash like them anymore.
We arrived at school. Our school was laid out with third-years on the first floor, second-years on the second, and first-years on the third.
“Oppa, I’m going up!”
“Yeah, go on. Pay attention in class.”
“Okay!”
Watching Seohee head up the stairs, I made my way to my classroom as well. Even then, I could feel glances sliding toward me from all around.
Looks like the rumor really did spread everywhere, just like Seohee said. In one day.
Well, the atmosphere I showed yesterday was pretty intense.
I entered the classroom. Where was my desk again...?
Right, I remembered. The back row, next to the window.
As I walked in, a few students glanced at me and whispered among themselves before resuming their own conversations. For second-years or first-years, yesterday’s “legend” would probably be fascinating, but for third-years, the big story was surely the CSAT that had just ended yesterday.
And it’s not like I had many friends in high school anyway.
I sat down.
Looking at the empty seat beside me, I thought of the one guy I could at least call a friend: Geum Taeyeong.
Looks like Taeyeong isn’t coming to school again today.
I’d never skipped school, even while working part-time. But Taeyeong didn’t care whether he graduated or not; instead of coming to school, he’d sleep at home, or show up only for lunch before heading off to his part-time job.
I’m pretty sure he should’ve been expelled long ago, but I think the homeroom teacher kept covering for him.
That’s right. My third-year homeroom teacher was the kind of person who looked rough, but actually cared deeply about his students.
He was that sort of man. A pity about the early baldness.
Rattle—thud!
Speak of the tiger, and he appears.
“I’m here!”
The front door flew open with a rough bang, and our homeroom teacher, Hwang Seongjae, strode in. Just as I remembered, his head gleamed brightly with baldness.
Bang! Bang!
Hwang Seongjae smacked the podium with the attendance book and shouted, “Hey! Why the hell is it so loud in here?! Did you all do so well on the CSAT that you’ve got the right to yap like that?!”
— ...
— ...
— ...
“What the hell, why did these idiots suddenly get so quiet? Did you all bomb the exam that badly?”
— Y-yes...
— We’re done for, sir.
— Teacher! I scored the highest on my mock exams out of any test in my life!
“Oh, An Seohun! That’s unexpected! If you’re so confident, say your score!”
He was a homeroom teacher who still clung to the hope of a year’s harvest.
— My average is 43 points! My highest score ever!
“...You little bastard, get your ass up front and assume the push-up position. After twenty years of teaching, this is the first time I’ve ever picked up a bat the day after the CSAT.”
— Hahahaha!
The gloomy atmosphere came alive again.
After playfully smacking An Seohun on the butt with his bat, Hwang Seongjae stood at the podium again and said, “All right, quiet down! I assume everyone estimated their scores yesterday. Even if you didn’t, I told you to bring your estimation sheet, didn’t I? Hand in your answer sheets, your estimated score sheets—whatever you wrote your answers on.”
— Yes, sir.
— Ah, I didn’t bring mine.
“Hey. Who’s the idiot who says he didn’t bring it?”
— Me.
“Go home and get it. You live twenty minutes away, right? Be back within an hour.”
— Yessir.
“Anyone else forget theirs?”
— ...
“No? Then start from the back and collect them.”
Just as the teacher ordered, I got up and collected the estimated score sheets.
After receiving everyone’s results, the homeroom teacher sighed in disappointment, almost in despair.
“Damn it, you bastards... I know the exam was hard, but these scores are...”
Kim Dohyun’s homeroom teacher, Hwang Seongjae.
Standing on the podium, he looked over the estimated score sheets his students had submitted and let out a quiet sigh.
Haa... This year’s CSAT really was brutal, but even so, these scores are miserable.
Some teachers didn’t care much about their students’ grades.
That might be true for private schools, but at public schools, entrance exam results had little bearing on a teacher’s standing.
After all, a teacher was still a civil servant first and foremost.
But Hwang Seongjae was different from the others. He felt a sense of responsibility as a teacher.
Because university could change a student’s life, he did everything he could to help the students under his care get into even a slightly better school.
That was also why he’d taken on the notoriously difficult role of third-year homeroom teacher eight years in a row, even after being offered the position of vice principal and turning it down.
Hwang Seongjae flipped through the papers listing the students’ scores and kept checking them one by one.
Seongmin looked down in the dumps, and now I know why. He was top of the class too... Hm. With this score, Hankuk University is impossible, and even Yeonhui University or Goseong University would require him to aim much lower.
Rustle, rustle.
Junyeol, this kid actually did better than expected. Then again, knowing how to pick the right answers is a skill too.
As he continued checking the students’ scores, something “strange” caught Hwang Seongjae’s eye.
Name: Kim Dohyun
Language: 100 points
Language. Korean, in other words, was a perfect score.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
Math Type A: 100 points
Foreign Language (English): 100 points
Physics I: 50 points
Chemistry I: 50 points
Physics II: 50 points
Chemistry II: 50 points
...?
...Perfect scores? There’s no way Dohyun got perfect scores.
I knew the kid’s level.
Did he mess with the scores?
But he wasn’t the type to play around like that.
Second Foreign Language (Arabic): 50 points
The second foreign language was Arabic, and he got a perfect score too? Did he even study Arabic?
Even if he bent over backward to accept the rest, the perfect score in Arabic made the least sense of all.
This is... something I need to talk to him about.
“Class president!”
— Yes, sir!
“Hook the podium computer up to the TV and play a movie. You know how to do it, right? Keep the kids from wandering around outside.”
— Yes, understood!
After hearing the class president’s reply, Hwang Seongjae called out to Kim Dohyun, who was watching him from the very back row.
“Kim Dohyun!”
Kim Dohyun rose from his seat at once.
He had already anticipated that his homeroom teacher would call on him.
“Yes, teacher.”
“Come with me to the teachers’ office. I’ll do your admissions counseling first.”