30
Chapter 30 Want to Come Over for Ramen?
“Wow……”
As soon as Do Minho stepped into the container stacked with problem books and reference materials, he let out a long
breath of admiration, overwhelmed by the sheer volume.
“With this much, no one can say I failed because I lacked materials.”
The 1997 College Scholastic Ability Test, held on November 13, 1996, was the first CSAT after the abolition of the old
entrance exam system. It began with the intention of reducing students’ burden—but that wasn’t how it ended.
The total score doubled from 200 to 400 points, significantly increasing the number of questions.
Math alone had twenty more questions.
Although the exam time increased, it was only by ten minutes. Compared to the previous average of 1.7 minutes per
question, students now had just 1.4 minutes per question to finish everything.
What made the 1997 CSAT infamous wasn’t just its difficulty, but the unified curriculum. Students had to study fourteen
subjects.
There wasn’t even a perfect score that year. The top humanities score was only 370.2.
Even for Minho, who had once achieved perfect scores, this wasn’t something to take lightly.
Still, there was some comfort. Although his own generation had an easier exam system, the difficulty of study materials
had increased significantly due to expectations of harder tests.
“Easy.”
As expected, the books made him smile.
“I can manage this.”
The 1997 CSAT was so famous for its difficulty that later students always studied its past questions.
Minho, who had tutored throughout his university years, had even created modified versions of those problems.
Even for humanities subjects.
His specialty was memorization—perfect for social studies.
Everything he had done in his previous life was finally paying off.
“…Wait.”
Then he noticed something.
“All from the same publisher.”
Every single book was from Cheonseong Publishing.
“These broadcast guys are sneaky.”
It was obvious—this wasn’t just generosity. It was sponsorship.
Still, Minho wasn’t bothered.
“It works for me.”
With a smirk, he picked up a book.
“Let’s study for a change.”
And so, he began studying for the CSAT again.
“…This is boring.”
Five hours later, he stood up abruptly.
“Not doing this.”
It was 2 a.m.
But the scattered books told the story—he had spent five hours solving his weakest subjects and hadn’t gotten a single
question wrong.
‘Too easy.’
For someone who had gone through graduate school and years of professional experience, high school-level material felt
trivial.
---
“Who knows the answer?”
“Me!”
Back in class, Minho answered enthusiastically.
“Wow! You’re so smart!”
“Well done.”
Even though he was already recognized as a genius, these small praises still brought him joy.
Watching the innocent children around him was equally enjoyable.
‘So this is how they look.’
Kids he had known for years now felt completely different.
‘So they could be this kind too.’
“Minho, want to come to my house today?”
He had never really spent time with classmates in his previous life.
Even at work, he kept his distance.
But now—
“Maybe next time. I need to go back to the orphanage and play with the kids.”
“You have Hyunseung and Songi!”
“We’re a set.”
“Ugh……”
The class felt a bit jealous.
“Then come to my place!”
“I’ll make ramen.”
“Minho makes great ramen!”
“Really?”
“Have you tried soybean paste ramen?”
“What’s that?”
“He’s really good at it.”
“I want to try!”
“Me too!”
“Then let’s go.”
The kids immediately gathered around.
“What about you?”
Minho turned to the quieter students.
“Come with us.”
“…Really?”
“Just eat and go. We’ll take pictures too.”
“Pictures?”
“I got a camera as a gift.”
“Me too!”
“Let’s all take one.”
Even the isolated class began to open up.
“I want to join too……”
Students from other classes peeked in.
“Then come with us.”
“Really?”
“Everyone’s welcome.”
‘Let’s make a huge pot of ramen.’
For the first time, Minho truly felt like part of a group.
---
“Minho!”
Just as they were about to leave, a group of adults blocked their way.
“Hello.”
“Of course you’re fine! Look at this!”
It was the BBS production team.
“Where are you going?”
“Out to play.”
They handed him a proposal.
‘Not bad.’
The concept was to analyze his paintings with experts and even psychiatrists.
Minho’s lips curled slightly.
‘Psychiatrists?’
“Do you have a company card?”
“…What?”
“What’s the limit?”
“…Why?”
“If you let me use it, I’ll appear.”
“…Deal!”
Just like that, he accepted.
“Hyunseung, take everyone ahead. I’ll go shopping.”
“We already have ramen!”
“I’ll make tteokbokki too.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
The PD hesitated—but agreed.
‘It’s just tteokbokki.’
At the store—
“Two million won worth of beef, please.”
“What?”
“We’re feeding a hundred people.”
“…That’s more than enough.”
“Then make it four million.”
“…What?”
The PD panicked.
“That’s too much…”
“Don’t you want to?”
“…I do.”
Other crews watched silently.
“…Fine.”
‘This better be worth it.’
“Add everything else too.”
The total came to six million won.
Even multiple cards were needed.
‘This kid…’
Still, they paid.
‘This will pay off.’
Then—
“Why are you filming secretly?”
“…What?”
“Just film openly.”
He handed them the camera.
“Not a crime scene, right?”
“…No.”
“I understand. But don’t film the kids without consent.”
“…Okay.”
Even at eight years old, Minho set clear boundaries.
And everyone listened.