Daegu-haeng Premieres!

When I heard Mom say I was getting a little sibling, I didn't believe her at first. That was only natural — in my previous life, I had never had a younger brother or sister.

A hidden camera...? Is this a prank?

But I realized soon enough. Mom wasn't the type to joke about something like this.

"A little sister?"

"We don't know yet. We only found out about the pregnancy last week!"

I hoped it would be a little sister. Little sisters tended to be more affectionate than little brothers, after all.

Hmm.... A little sibling, huh. How was I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠supposed to treat them? Having grown up as an only child in my previous life, I had no idea. I should treat them the way Mom and Dad treat me. That seemed like the right answer.

"Ahem. Anyway, Yena. Has any movie caught your eye lately?"

"A movie that caught my eye?"

"Yeah. Something fun enough that you'd want to review it...?"

"I don't think so. Not yet."

"Really...? That's a shame...."

Mom...

I had caught her last time — sitting there smiling as she read the comments from people praising me. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I understood perfectly well that from a mother's perspective, watching her daughter get recognized felt pretty wonderful. It was just that even I, hailed as the Oracle of Delphi, wasn't free of hate comments. I hoped Mom wouldn't stumble across those while she was reading and end up getting her feelings hurt.

"Oh, right. Ha-jun's family is having a baby too."

"Huh? Really?"

"Of course. Would Mom lie about something like this?"

"Of course not."

What on earth was going on...? Both Lee Ha-jun and I were getting little siblings. The weight on my shoulders just got heavier...

Honestly, I didn't think Lee Ha-jun would take good care of a little sibling. He's a self-centered guy, after all. Well. I was the adult here, so I could cover for him. How hard could raising two kids possibly be?

March 2, 2016. Vacation ended, and the day to go back to school arrived. Now that I was a third-grader, the time I spent at school would stretch a little longer than it had in first and second grade. About fifty minutes, roughly.

"T-time really flies, doesn't it...!"

"Yeah."

I nodded at Seo A-rin's words. Even I had to admit that time in this second life was passing way too fast.

Lee Ha-jun asked,

"But isn't it better if it goes by fast? We've gotta grow up already."

"There's nothing good about growing up fast."

I had experienced it in my previous life. Becoming an adult meant taking on responsibility. Unlike when I was a kid, there was no protective shield of Mom and Dad. I had to carry everything myself. Before you become an adult, you wish you were one. After you become one, you miss being a kid. Honestly. The world never seemed to give me what I wanted.

"How would you know that?"

When he asked like that, I didn't really have an answer.

"I just know."

"Hmmm. I get it. Yena, you must've heard that from grown-ups on the internet. That tired old line about how being an adult isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Lee Ha-jun patted my shoulder.

"You're ten now. You can pretend to be a grown-up all you want, but you don't look like one at all."

Ha. That one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stung a little. I'm forty! If you added my previous life, I had lived forty years. I was forty, thank you very much. Of course, if I said I had lived to thirty in a past life, they would treat me like a lunatic, so I had to live as a ten-year-old.

"Y-Yena definitely likes to pull rank on us! We're the same age — we're all ten!"

Oh, not you too....?

April arrived. With it, the weather warmed up completely, which made it the perfect weather for soccer.

"Pass!"

I received the ball and didn't hesitate ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— I took the shot. The ball left my foot, punched through the kids blocking the front, and rattled the back of the net.

"Siuuuuuuuuuuu!"

Maybe it was because I had lived in a 158-centimeter, 31-kilogram body in my previous life. Sports like soccer that used the whole body were pretty fun. In my previous life, I couldn't play even if I wanted to. The school bullies wouldn't even take me along when they were short on players.

Eh, never mind. Just sit this one out.

If you try to block a shot, you'll go flying.

I still remembered those words. For someone who had loved soccer, that had been an insult I couldn't swallow, so I intended to enjoy the game now. In this life, my physique was pretty decent. The average third-grade elementary school boy stood 134 centimeters. I was 140 — six centimeters taller. Thanks to that, I could hold my own in physical battles even against the boys.

Sad, though. I could compete until elementary school. But starting in middle school, the strength gap with the boys would start to show, and by high school there would be a gulf I couldn't possibly close. I'll try a different sport when that happens. Well. Soccer wasn't the only sport in the world, so I would find a path if I looked for one.

"My turn! Draw! I summon Blue-Eyes White Dragon!"

Lee Ha-jun summoned Blue-Eyes White Dragon, one of Yu-Gi-X's signature cards, but the smile on my lips didn't fade.

"It's complete."

"N-no way....!"

"That's right. Exodia is complete."

I held the final piece. Exodia the Forbidden One, in my hand.

"Farewell!"

"Gaaah!"

Lee Ha-jun still had 4,000 life points left, but there was no stopping Exodia. Once you gathered all five pieces in your hand, it was an automatic win.

"Good match...."

"Yeah."

"Y-you both did great!"

The bell rang the instant the match ended. Ding-dong, ding-dong~ Ding-dong, ding-dong~ I sat down at my desk for the last class of the day.

Fifth period is such a cheat code.

That was why being a third-grader in elementary school felt so good. Eat lunch, sit through forty minutes, then go home. This was a genuine revolution. After escaping high school, where seventh period was just another Tuesday, this is heaven.

For the record, the last class was math — my least favorite subject — but a smile was carved onto my face anyway. It had to be. Third-grade elementary math was genuinely easy. We just started learning fractions. Honestly, for someone who had completed the entire senior-year high school curriculum, getting stuck on third-grade math was impossible.

"Hmm. Then why don't you come up and solve this one, Yena."

"Yes."

I walked up confidently and solved the math problem.

"Correct! Everyone, a round of applause for Yena."

I returned to my seat with my head held high, listening to the burst of applause. I had actually wanted to try this. In my previous life, I couldn't really say I was good at math compared to my peers, so walking back to my seat after casually solving a problem to everyone's applause was something I had never even dreamed of. A four was my ceiling. I had never once scored a three or better in all of high school. But now it was different. At the elementary school level, I was king. I feel a little bad, honestly. Well, I could think of it as compensation for my miserable previous life.

Time flew, and it was June 23rd. This was a special day.

"Ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Hurry up!"

It was the day the Daegu-haeng trailer dropped. I sat in front of the living room TV with my family.

"I'll put it on."

Dad played the trailer, and a moment later it began to roll.

"There she is!"

"Honey, keep it down a little."

"Dad. Shh!"

"O-okay."

The moment the trailer started, there I was — holding the protagonist's hand, scanning our surroundings.

Not even ten seconds after the train departed, the zombies appeared.

When Lee Seo-yul approached a person lying on the ground and held out a hand, the fallen human — no, the zombie — bit Lee Ha-jun's hand. And just like that, the first infected was born inside the train.

The moment Lee Seo-yul bit his mother, the screen cut. It showed the faces of the people who had been watching from behind, and a moment later the survivors started running from the swelling horde of zombies.

The screen cut again, showing an empty station. The protagonist spoke to his daughter, Lee Ha-neul.

After the scene of the protagonist leaving his daughter behind in the station, the screen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠changed.

After the scene of the infected protagonist throwing himself off the train, the trailer ended with Lee Ha-neul being rescued.

"Oh. That turned out pretty well. Looks fun."

"Yeah."

From my perspective, it looked pretty entertaining too. I think I can look forward to this. I remembered Daegu-haeng ranking among the 10-million-viewer films. This'll be right up my alley. Becoming a 10-million-viewer film meant it was a movie every age group could watch, so it would suit my tastes pretty well. I had enjoyed it plenty when I watched it in my previous life, too. The only difference is that Ha-jun and I are in it. The problem was that Ha-jun and I being in it might break the immersion. Well, I could only hope my acting had been good.

With the Daegu-haeng premiere approaching, Director Hong Jun-seok and the staff were trembling with anxiety.

"Still no word from Neoguri?"

"No... not yet."

"Haaah~ This isn't good. We need them to get in touch. If Neoguri doesn't review us, our movie won't hit ten million!"

Just as he was getting worked up, the youngest staff member shouted.

"A message came in!"

"For real?!"

Director Hong Jun-seok dashed over in an instant and looked at the laptop, where he could see the message Neoguri had sent.

"Urgh..."

Disappointing. If they had accepted the ad offer, a guaranteed boost of a million viewers would have been locked in. No — they've grown even more since last time, so they might even be able to mobilize two million. Still, it was good news that they were coming to see the movie he had made. I'm confident. Director Hong Jun-seok was sure that anyone who sat down to watch Daegu-haeng would fall into the film. So he could wait. Until opening day.

And so, on July 20th, Daegu-haeng premiered. On July 20th itself, no review video went up on the Neoguri channel.

"It's fine! They might not be able to upload on the same day!"

Then two days.

"Well. They're probably putting extra care into the editing."

Three days.

"It still hasn't gone up?"

"Maybe they haven't watched the movie yet?"

Then seven days. A full week passed, and still no Daegu-haeng review video appeared on the Neoguri channel. Director Hong Jun-seok despaired.

"Director...."

"Yeah... I guess Neoguri just didn't find our movie fun."

It was a massive misunderstanding.