Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: The Outsider Receives a Sincere Apology
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◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Rock-Paper-Scissors Result.
"Kuaaaaaah!!!!!!"
I lost.
I went with scissors in a very unmanly fashion and ended up losing.
I'd heard somewhere that when people get tense, they instinctively throw rock to look bigger, so I went with scissors...
Whether Han Si-a wasn't tense at all or I just fell for some nonsense from the internet, she threw a manly rock and won.
Seeing her raise that same fist triumphantly over her head, basking in victory, made me a little annoyed.
But Yoo So-mi, who had been watching us, checked the time on her smartphone and spoke up with a troubled look.
"It's getting late today, so let's call it. We spent way more time deciding the bet than expected."
"Hmph. Fine. I'll let you know the command later after checking with So-mi."
We'd stayed in the classroom after school to settle the bet, and more time had passed than we'd realized.
It was about time for Han Si-a to head to cram school, and for So-mi and me to get ready for our shift at the sandwich shop.
After checking the time at So-mi's words, we hurriedly packed up, left the classroom, and parted ways.
"See you guys later~"
"Yeah, I'll head over." "See you at the shop."
We'd meet up again at the sandwich shop anyway.
In the end, regardless of getting a perfect score on the exam, I lost the bet on rock-paper-scissors.
Still, I wasn't too disappointed.
A little reflection showed that what I'd really cared about in this bet wasn't the penalty—it was whether I could score higher than Han Si-a.
Wasn't I betting to make up for scoring lower than a high schooler on the midterms?
Our final exam scores were tied anyway? Rock-paper-scissors is just pure luck, unrelated to skill or ability—a total crapshoot?
Plus, this penalty had all sorts of restrictions, and every command needed Yoo So-mi's approval as a safety net!
Having to consider all these complications and get So-mi's permission every time? The reward for this bet might be overhyped.
This bet's prize is definitely a dud!
...
Sigh. Still, winning beats losing.
I decided to quit this pathetic mental victory.
.
.
.
I finished my usual shift at the sandwich shop and returned home.
Watching Han Si-a enjoy her sandwich so comfortably today made losing the bet sting a bit.
But after showering and getting dressed, my phone rang from 'Auntie at Han Si-a's House (Scholarship Foundation Director)'.
Han Si-a's stepmother.
Come to think of it, during the last festival, she'd bet against Han Si-a and lost, agreeing to apologize to me as the price.
She'd even given me her business card that day, and I'd saved the number then.
Han Si-a really seems to love betting. With friends, with her stepmom—and she wins them all.
Anyway, since Han Si-a's stepmother had said she'd arrange a time to apologize, she must have waited until my exam schedule ended before calling.
Still, considering what she'd done to me, I answered the phone in a curt tone.
"I've taken the call."
-Hello. This is Son Ju-hee, who gave you my business card last time. I'm calling to coordinate a schedule for the apology I owe you.
'Son Ju-hee' is indeed Han Si-a's stepmother's name... but her speech is incredibly... businesslike.
Not polite. Her tone wasn't soft at all—it was stiff.
From her voice alone, I could already sense: 'I'm not really sorry to you, but I have to apologize, so let's set a time.'
"Ah, I'll pass. I don't want to get dragged into your family drama anymore, and I know you're only apologizing because of the bet. It's meaningless anyway—no point wasting time."
So, I refused to even schedule it.
After all, accepting an apology like that wouldn't mean much, and the one in a hurry was her, not me, because of the bet.
She started it by screwing me over, so I figured I could screw her back a little.
But Han Si-a's stepmother responded as if she'd expected it.
-As expected, a verbal apology alone won't convey my sincerity properly. I've prepared a 'small token of sincerity' on my end, so let's coordinate a schedule.
"..."
I recalled the 'small token of sincerity' from Han Si-a's stepmother that the library club seniors had sold my notes for and pocketed later.
Expensive cosmetics, high-value gift certificates, designer sneakers and bags... each worth tens of thousands of won in cash.
"Even if it's a reluctant apology pushed on you, it's still better than nothing. I don't have time on weekdays, so how about the weekend..."
I decided to judge the sincerity of Han Si-a's stepmother's 'small token' based on its price.
And the appointment we set was for lunch this Sunday.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Time passed, and Sunday arrived—the day to meet Han Si-a's stepmother.
Whether out of consideration for me not having a driver's license, Son Ju-hee drove a large sedan right up to my house to pick me up.
Complete with a chauffeur.
Since she was in the back seat, I sat next to her in the rear.
She wore sunglasses, and her outfit was a crisp suit, like she'd come from some morning business.
"Hello."
"Hi?"
...
She used formal speech on the phone, but switches to casual face-to-face...
Of course, as a high school kid, I can't expect full respect, but since my mind is older than hers, it still rubs me the wrong way.
With my mood soured right from the start, I put on my curt attitude again and spoke.
"So, what role are you playing today? Si-a's auntie? Or the scholarship foundation director?"
Meaning: if you're here to apologize, at least act sorry.
But Son Ju-hee gave an unexpected response.
"Hmm... Not the foundation director since we're not at school, and saying 'Si-a's mom' feels like apologizing on her behalf, which looks off?"
"So, today I'm here as Son Ju-hee, daughter of Assemblyman Son Chang-hui."
"..."
Assemblyman Son Chang-hui. One of the blatant 'political heavyweights' serving his fourth term on prime Seoul land.
...I tried to hide my shock, but it was too much.
The reason I'd been able to stand up to her so far was knowing that as a 35-year-old regressor, normal adults couldn't touch me no matter how much they hated me.
The worst they could do was call the school, contact my parents, or spread bad rumors.
But if the opponent is a political heavyweight's daughter, that's different.
If the assemblyman was willing to retire from politics, one day my dad could get fired from his company for no reason, or I could run into thugs waiting for me on a dark street and end up half-crippled.
Not that they'd go that far over a rude kid, but being a political heavyweight's daughter is a whole different category from foundation director.
"Pfft. Scared now? You really don't seem like a high schooler. Too young to understand how the world works."
Seeing me freeze at her words, Son Ju-hee laughed as if it was amusing.
"I just said it to startle you a bit, but your reaction is hilarious! Your attitude's like some aged bureaucrat, not a high schooler."
Son Ju-hee took off her sunglasses and met my eyes.
"Still, don't be too scared? Honestly, I'm not particularly sorry to you... but I promised to apologize, so I plan to show some sincerity."
"..."
Sigh, damn it. Are there spikes on luxury car back seats? The seat's so uncomfortable I can barely sit still.
.
.
.
The luxury sedan carrying us arrived at a sashimi restaurant.
Not huge, but the atmosphere wasn't like a regular one—you could tell instantly it was a high-end place ordinary people wouldn't dare enter.
See? No prices on the menu.
And as we entered the room, waitstaff swarmed out like they'd been waiting, setting up various dishes.
"No point overdoing it since we can't eat it all, so I kept the menu moderate. Should be tasty?"
There was sashimi on the plate I'd never seen before; she said it was fugu.
Delicious. The flesh was so chewy and firm—it doesn't get old. I get why people pay big for this.
When I make money with Bitcoin later, I gotta try fugu sashimi.
The other seafood and dishes were great too.
Honestly, just give me the cash equivalent of ordering this.
When the food came out, I'd planned to stay wary of Son Ju-hee and just taste it casually.
But snapping to, I was possessed, shoving luxury food into my mouth like a demon.
Is this the taste of money!!
"Just so you know, I'm not ending my 'small sincerity' with one meal. I prepared a separate gift for you."
This meal alone must've cost tens of thousands, but she says there's more.
Money? It has to be money, right?
"You look like you're expecting cash. But for someone like me, 'showing sincerity' can't be that brainless."
What? Not money? Then I'm not that interested...
Turns out, what Son Ju-hee offered was an invitation to a gifted education program for upper-class kids during summer break.
It's true they provide fitting education, but at its core, it's a networking spot for society's elite using their kids as an excuse... and the 'sincerity' shown to Son Ju-hee for one of these invitations exceeds hundreds of millions annually.
"It might mean nothing to you, this elite networking thing, but the classes are top-tier, and getting acquainted early with kids who'll hold key positions in this country later could be huge help. Better than pocket change, right?"
Hearing it, yeah, this invitation's valuable.
A chance to know from childhood people who'll become ministers, professors, assemblymen. Any parent with means would stretch for it.
"Can I sell this?"
"Of course not."
"Then just give me cash. I'm gonna get rich with Bitcoin anyway, so more seed money's way better."
Hearing that, Son Ju-hee sighed deeply and looked at me pitifully.
"Sigh... tsk tsk. This is why broke kids are... Just attending gets you pricey gifts and certificates, and top scorers get big prize money. Even random raffles have high-end stuff, so sitting there alone is profit?"
"....!!!"
I decided not to doubt the sincerity of Son Ju-hee's 'sincere apology' anymore.
The gifted program starts right after summer break.
Lasts a week.
Location: some rich person's resort in Daegwallyeong.
High altitude means it's cool even in summer!
And top scorers get serious prize money!!!!
Wait up, you little shits. The regressor's coming.
You've got money at home anyway—I'll take the prizes and spend 'em well!!! ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 📋 Regular Report In a building smack in Seoul's downtown, two men and women gathered in a conference room after most had clocked out. "Well... I gave the invitation since you told me to, but is it really worth it? Selling it to another family like usual would've netted enough for a small car." To the woman's question, the man replied. "Si-a's in high school now, and just good school grades won't cut it among those geniuses. Time to give her an ally." The gifted program is an elite networking spot. But also a place to evaluate each other's kids. Inspecting and assessing the sprouts who'll lead Korea's future—who's fit for key posts. Bluntly, it's their corrupt division of next-gen power. "You seem to like Jeong Yi-an quite a bit? Because of his festival performance? I'm honestly a bit uneasy..." "Well... Yi-an's exceptional for his age, isn't he? What're you worried about? Si-a getting led around by him? Or still fretting over premature moves?" "Both." "..." The man fell silent briefly. Then he spoke. "Can't be helped. Adults can only hand over tools and teach usage. If she can't handle it, that's my daughter's limit." Irritated by his words, the woman said, "I've done my part and warned her. So if it goes wrong, it's not on me. Got it?" She left those words and exited the conference room. The man, looking weary, rubbed his eyes with both hands and leaned back in his chair.