Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Out into the World (4)
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"Phew—!"
I expelled the air I'd been holding in my lungs with all my might, pulling my knees up.
I'd never had the chance to train formally in track, nor the time to practice.
But Jin-hyuk was confident.
He'd raced with General morning and night, and played games dodging stones thrown by that aggressive Oggol chicken, Chicken Johnson. The explosive power honed from getting pecked on the butt by that bird shone brilliantly in that moment.
He even recalled the time Kim Eun-jeong's Tosa dog broke free from its leash and charged. The Tosa snapping its chain and lunging at Mi-kyeong, her face draining of color like her soul had fled. Jin-hyuk had instinctively chucked a rock to draw the dog's aggro.
Remembering that near-death moment where a bite would've been fatal made his legs surge with even more power.
"Huff... huff..."
In his previous life, he'd watched a documentary on Usain Bolt that left a deep impression. Back in the day, runners held their breath for the "mere" 100 meters, but modern track emphasized rapid breathing for fresh oxygen supply.
Jin-hyuk rounded his mouth, puffing out his cheeks, then sucking them in repeatedly. His head felt a bit dizzy. But power flooded his arms and legs. How many strides had he taken? The starting jolt had finally kicked in, but the finish line was right there.
"Phew—!"
Chest thrust out, arms flung back like wings. He'd seen track stars do it in sports highlights.
Click!
Click! Click-click!
All four runners crossed the finish line.
The referee stood stunned for a moment. The gap between first and second was huge. It happened often in short-distance prelims where skill gaps were wide. But Group 4 felt off. The first-place runner was too fast.
The timer waiting behind snapped him out of it.
"Referee, call the times."
"Huh? Oh, right! Calling times, starting with first place—."
The referee at the finish line announced them in order.
Dust in his eyes, or maybe shock—his vision blurred.
He rubbed his eyes and checked the stopwatch.
"First place time is—."
"Yes—."
The timer poised to record froze.
Looking up at the referee. Who mechanically read it off, then double-checked the stopwatch as the number sank in.
'12.09 seconds?'
He'd measured sprints on sand fields at countless schools over the years.
First time seeing this.
He quickly checked the athlete's info in the file in his left hand. Prelim time: 12.12. Prelims had leeway for error. At least no disputes since the same timer did it.
'Solid prelim too.'
He eyed the first-place runner's shoes.
Plain sneakers. Not a track athlete.
'Kneeling for two years or something?'
Build wasn't great.
No, impossible. Entry was by age, not grade. He'd already confirmed Son Jin-hyuk's birthdate.
School name?
'Eodong Elementary?'
Never heard of it.
Suspicious, but no red flags. Suspiciously un-suspicious athlete.
"Referee, that kid got issues?"
Taeyang Elementary's Kim Young-tae, familiar from past meets, spoke up as the referee kept tilting his head. He figured the referee lingered too long on Jin-hyuk's info sheet.
Teachers from other schools who'd watched Jin-hyuk's sprint crowded in, curious about the time.
The referee rechecked Jin-hyuk's sheet and spoke cautiously.
"Nah... pretty ordinary, really."
Now the referee and Kim Young-tae both tilted their heads.
Ordinary? Sounded weird.
It was ordinary, but felt off.
He wasn't hung up on winning or records. He'd run for fun, thrilled to race alongside others. That was it.
Maybe all that running in rain or snow since childhood paid off. Or maybe he'd always had talent, but malnourishment kept him weak back then. Come high school, strength kicked in; in special forces, he built iron muscles. That body stuck with him till his final moments.
As Jin-hyuk rested hands on hips, lost in memories, the referee announced.
"Finals in 30 minutes. Son Jin-hyuk, Park Ji-beom, Yeom Byeong-taek, Jo Seol-chan. That's the four."
One more run. Jin-hyuk shook out his wrists and ankles loosely and headed to the start. The others followed. One kid sidled up.
"Whoa, you're crazy fast!"
Yeom Byeong-taek. The other three wore blue uniforms with "Taeyang" in white on the tops.
They'd gone to the same school before? Vague memory—big school, many kids.
"Son Jin-hyuk."
He offered a hand.
Byeong-taek eyed him awkwardly, then shook. Kids shaking hands on first meet? Funny, but best he had.
"I'm Park Ji-beom."
"Nice ta meetcha. Jo Seol-chan here."
Handshakes all around.
Finalists plopped on the ground to rest.
'What do elementary kids in my old era look like?'
Probably jogging laps, loosening legs, personal coaches kneading muscles. Jin-hyuk noted the Taeyang kids massaging each other—he was solo. Then a big, callused hand landed on his shoulder.
"Didn't know our lil' Jin-hyuk was this good at sprintin' too! Rest up, run one more, then teacher's takin' ya for black bean noodles, aight?"
"Sure."
Pure country elementary teacher.
Never felt this before. Teachers patted heads for good grades, but massage after a run? Dying and reviving changed the treatment.
"Legs okay?"
"Yeah. Fresh as can be."
Usual run. No fatigue buildup from full sprint. Breathing normalized quick. Still, he massaged calves and thighs. Rolled shoulders and arms for upper body stretch.
'Time for meditation and breathing.'
No lotus needed.
Exhaled stale air from rushed breaths. Inhaled slow and deep. A shiver rose from his waist, tickling chest, throat, cheeks.
Taeyang kids tried chatting Jin-hyuk up, but caught unspoken menace in Park Jae-seung's eyes and looked away. Tough enough facing adults at that age; this countryside uncle's face was Vietnam vet dark.
'Coach that scary? Explains the speed. Wonder how much hell he put him through.'
Seol-chan whispered. The other two nodded solemnly.
Pitying glances at Jin-hyuk.
Then they gawked at his plain sneakers.
Taeyang runners all had spikes.
Finals over, ordinarily.
"Short distance reps: Son Jin-hyuk and Park Ji-beom. 400m relay: Yeom Byeong-taek, Jo Seol-chan too."
Jin-hyuk's final: 12.05.
Unofficial Chungnam elementary record, referee said. No one's broken 12 seconds yet.
Taeyang ace Park Ji-beom's 13.03 showed how fast. Others gritted teeth chasing Jin-hyuk's back. Maybe eyed his butt. Three Chicken Johnsons.
'Running with others makes me faster too.'
Partner's speed influences. He felt running mates' value. Finals rerun despite top four times? To squeeze better marks. Miss cutoff, no regional quals.
Elementary done; middle school next.
Watching first heat, Jin-hyuk shook his head.
Three years older, but nothing to learn—and slower than him.
Taeyang PE teacher Kim Young-tae found him.
"Need relay practice. Can ya come to Taeyang National School Fridays after school?"
"Yes."
He answered, but couldn't not.
Mi-kyeong would've smacked his butt approvingly.
Tourism boom hitting.
Roads paved wide in years. Six daily buses to his village now. Friends bused to school; Jin-hyuk felt the change. Though he still ran.
Anyway, 30-minute bus to town now.
Personal practice too.
No mates—bummer. Mi-kyeong and Seong-chan hated running sans motivation.
'General's fast, but cheats too much.'
Tired? Cuts fields, fakes injury, bolts when worried.
Fair play? Dog food.
Siberian Husky sportsmanship? Nah.
'Delinquent.'
General had nicknames galore.
Black bean noodles. Previous life, high school friend treat. At six, held Mom's hand at market once. Attic days? Rare luxury.
"Our Jin-hyuk want double portion?"
Park Jae-seung's grin warmed. Teeth flashed white against black face—scary at first, but kind soul made it endearing.
"Regular's fine, teacher."
"Whyy, big boy like you needs to grow! Eat plenty!"
"Double then."
Grateful, he ordered double.
Chinese joint's aroma teased hunger. Stomach rioted like it'd waited all day. Feed it black bean bliss or it'd revolt.
Slurp slurp—
Chopsticks danced over noodles.
Glossy strands mingled sauce, radiant.
Gulp—
'Kuh—delicious!'
Body difference? Tasted worlds from adult days.
Chomp chomp—
Sauce on lips? Focused on eating.
"Jin-hyuk, tangsuyuk too?"
"Wes—."
Mouth full of noodles.
His family richest around. But he refused town transfer, stayed rural. Mom feared town; outings rare.
'Too good.'
Mom Han Yu-young's cooking great—no cravings. But solo adult life? Sick of restaurant food. Now? Thoughts changed. Gulping noodles like drink.
'Yu-jin can have some now?'
Parents, sister—outing, market stroll, picnic. Lone wolf Son Jin-hyuk wanted family time now.
Out into the world.