Regional Olympiad Challenge (1)
“So, Seoyeon, you're entering the regional academic competition too?”
“Yes.”
Oh Se-jun fell silent for a moment. He narrowed his eyes and stared at me intently before letting out a low chuckle.
“Alright. I was wondering why you hadn't signed up yet—glad to hear it.”
He slid a single sheet of paper toward me.
“You've got about three weeks until the regional academic competition. And for those three weeks, you'll be in special classes. Since it'll draw top kids from all over the country, we need to prepare accordingly.”
It was the start of what people commonly called remedial classes. Except these weren't for kids falling behind—they were elite training for the top performers vying for even higher ground.
I glanced over the notice the homeroom teacher had handed me.
“Will you be teaching the classes yourself, Mr. Oh?”
“That's right. Why? Got a problem with me handling it?”
“No, sir. I'm thrilled, actually.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
His lips curved into a subtle smile at my enthusiasm. He eyed me appraisingly before nodding.
“Anyway, this exam reflects on our school's reputation too, so prepare hard.”
After the counseling session, I returned to the classroom. With the regional academic competition just three weeks away, the room was unusually quiet. Class president Jeong Hae-won was leading by example, buried in her studies.
“Ughhh!”
Well, she looked like she was struggling hard with the problems.
I approached her desk and peered silently at her workbook. The tangled mess of her solution process jumped out at me.
That's not how you solve that...
Suddenly, Hae-won snapped her head up.
“What?”
“Huh?”
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing. I didn't say a word.”
“No way. I swear I heard your voice...”
Unless she was channeling some psychic nonsense like King Gung-ye, there was no way she'd heard me. She must've been so focused she started hallucinating.
“Ugh... This is too hard. Too complicated. I wanna rip this workbook to shreds!”
Hae-won ruffled her hair and thunked her forehead on the desk. Her pencil-holding hand trembled—she was clearly stuck.
“You're overcomplicating it.”
“Huh?”
Sigh. No helping it—I pointed at her workbook and explained.
“You don't need to expand it out here. Just group this whole thing together, and the value drops right out.”
“Whoa, really? Wow!”
Suddenly, Hae-won let out a squeal and threw her arms around me. She bounced around like she'd aced it, overjoyed.
Ahem...
“Oh yeah! Seoyeon, you signed up for the regional academic competition too, right?”
I recalled the conversation from a week ago. Grandpa had strongly encouraged it, saying a strong showing there would qualify me for early graduation. I had no intention of spending a full six years in elementary school anyway, so I planned to make the most of this chance.
“Grandpa recommended it. Somehow ended up teaming up with you, unnie.”
“Heehee! Of course! Who else from our school but you and me?”
“Aren't five more going too?”
“Sure, but do we really need to worry about them?”
They were all upperclassmen. Excluding us first-graders, most were fifth grade or higher.
Is this gonna be okay?
People could be surprisingly petty. Even if they were upperclassmen, sharing classes with mere first-graders from chaebol families might spark all sorts of resentment.
Waaah! What if the seniors iced us out and gaslit us every which way?
“Hmph! I'm claiming victory in this regional academic competition!”
Hae-won clenched her fist and declared boldly. A few nearby kids glanced over at her intensity.
Sheesh. Seeing my immature unnie like this, my worries felt unfounded.
＊
After classes ended, Hae-won and I headed to the top floor. An unused classroom had been cleared out neatly.
“Guess this is the remedial room.”
“Looks like they prepped it well.”
We peeked through the slightly open door. A few kids were already there: a pretty fifth-grade unnie with her hair tied back tightly in a ponytail, a hefty sixth-grade oppa with thick horn-rimmed glasses, and sharp-featured seniors radiating an intimidating aura.
We slipped to the back row and sat quietly. It felt awkward squeezing into the front with the older kids.
“You're here?”
Right on cue, Mr. Oh Se-jun entered through the front door. He scanned the greeting students, slowly assessing the seating.
His gaze lingered on us for a moment.
“You two there?”
“Yes?”
He pointed to the front row.
“You gonna see the board from way back there? Move up front.”
“Wha—huh?”
“Hey!”
Only then did Hae-won and I grab our desks and shuffle forward. The scraping drew stares from all the seniors ahead.
“That's the famous Han Seoyeon? The early admission kid?”
“Looks like it. And next to her's Hyun-do's Jeong Hae-won?”
Not bad so far. But then...
“Hmph! I expected more from such a big-shot family, but she looks like half a squid chopped up!”
The ponytail unnie from earlier spat it out. Her pretty face hid a vicious tongue.
Of course, Hae-won wasn't one to take that lying down.
“Hmph! Says the one who looks like a leftover kimbap roll's side!”
“What did you say?”
“Huh? I didn't say anything. Heehee~”
“……”
Mr. Oh Se-jun and the other seniors gawked at us in disbelief.
“Ahem.”
He cleared his throat a few times before issuing warnings to kick off class.
“As you know, age doesn't matter in the regional academic competition. All that counts is a top score. Got it?”
“Yes!”
“Grade levels mean nothing here. Keep that in mind and focus solely on acing this competition. Gwang-woo?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Didn't you bomb the last one? Do it again, and it's two hours of full-course counseling with me. You know that, right?”
“Gasp! T-Teacher, please, anything but that...”
“Then get a good score this time. I heard that Samcheong-dong genius girl is competing. You're representing Yeonhwa Elementary's honor—no way you lose to her. Understood?”
The mention of the Samcheong-dong genius girl tensed everyone up. Who the heck was she?
Hae-won had the answer, as expected from a chaebol info hub.
“The Samcheong-dong genius girl's a fifth-grader, four years older than us. But she's been off the charts since she was five. Word is, she's already breezed through elementary and self-studying middle school like us. Maybe even high school by now...”
Huh. So there was another kid like me in this country. Sure, my reincarnation memories let me claim a PhD-level grasp already, but this Samcheong-dong girl might be even sharper.
To nail early graduation, I'd have to get serious.
“Alright, class starts. Open your workbook to page five.”
And so began the long-awaited special class for the regional academic competition.
***
The lesson was riveting. Meanwhile, the other seniors and Hae-won flushed red, slamming their heads into their workbooks as they wrestled the problems.
Eh? This is hard?
Mr. Oh Se-jun assigned a few practice problems.
(1) For a natural number n, find n such that 1+2+3+⋯+n=210.
I jotted the answer without hesitation. Compared to college-level equations I'd solved, this was a breeze. Factoring midway made it snap into place: solutions n=-20 or n=21.
But it's natural numbers, so...
Answer: n=21. Doing real math after so long was a blast. Mr. Oh's class reignited the intellectual curiosity dormant in my chest.
Next, problem two.
(2) Find natural numbers a, b, c such that a+b+c=12 and ab+bc+ca=44.
Symmetric polynomials into perfect squares—easy.
I flew through number two. Three and four were no different.
Scribble-scribble!
My nonstop pace had everyone in the room popping their eyes wide.
(5) In a triangle with sides x, x+2, x+4, if the perimeter is 36, find x.
Not even the final fifth problem could stop me. Sides x, x+2, x+4. Perimeter 36, so x+(x+2)+(x+4)=36.
Simplify: 3x+6=36 → 3x=30 → x=10.
Triangle inequality: sum of two sides must exceed the third.
10+12>14? Check. 12+14>10? Check. 10+14>12? Check.
Verified. I wrote x=10.
“Phew!”
I looked up to see how far others had gotten—only to find everyone staring at me, problems forgotten.
“Um...”
Curious, I checked the ponytail unnie who'd glared at us: just finishing two. Hae-won beside me was scribbling the answer to two. Gwang-woo oppa, with competition experience, was midway on three.
Only I had cleared all five.
Mr. Oh Se-jun gaped, speechless for a while.
I glanced at the wall clock by chance. Not even three minutes since we started.
I'd solved five competition-level problems in exactly 2 minutes and 55 seconds.
“Huh?”