An Elementary School on the Verge of Closure, Part 2

Daily traffic on Lee Yun-hyeok's blog suddenly skyrocketed from a mere dozens to tens of thousands.

This was because the eighteen children's gifts had gone viral one after another on the channels of eighteen different YouTubers.

The subsequent gifts and letters had openly addressed the situation at Doma Elementary School.

They candidly explained that the children had prepared this event themselves to raise awareness and save their school.

The threat of Doma Elementary School's closure instantly set social media ablaze, prompting citizens to search for the school and flood Yun-hyeok's blog.

The attached photos captured the chaotic, run-down school transforming at an unbelievable pace.

Many people didn't even know a place like Mir City existed. Even those who went, "Oh, I've heard of it," usually had no idea where it was located or what it looked like.

Let alone Doma-myeon, a rural backwater within Mir City.

Whether a single elementary school in such a place was demolished or not was of zero concern to the general public.

But now, the tables had turned.

Social issues of any kind are notoriously difficult to bring to light, but once they catch fire, they burn white-hot.

From rural elders to conglomerate engineers, college students to retired technicians—the sight of people voluntarily coming together to renovate a decaying school on the brink of erasure was pure drama.

And the public couldn't help but root for it.

"What on earth is this?"

Kang Se-jin, the Director-General of Education at the Gyeonggi Provincial Office of Education, felt his head spinning because of the elementary school that had suddenly become a viral sensation in a matter of days.

"Am I dreaming right now?"

To make matters worse, Doma Elementary School was now being featured on the 9 O'Clock News on KBC, the national public broadcaster.

On the school playground, lush green sod had already been laid across half the field.

Administration must pursue efficiency. Maintaining a school with only eighteen students left might seem highly inefficient on paper.

But if efficiency is the only metric, how is public administration any different from a private corporation?

"Sometimes, there are things in society that we must protect, even if it costs a little more money," Yun-hyeok's voice echoed from the screen. "The people gathered here understand that. I hope the Gyeonggi Provincial Office of Education understands it too."

Vibrant green grass. High-end window frames. Clean, sturdy floor tiles. Inside the tidy classrooms stood beautifully decorated desks, chairs, and cabinets.

Behind the school lay a gorgeous garden.

And vibrant murals adorned every wall.

The elementary school had become a massive work of art in its own right.

"There is a concept called a forest kindergarten," Yun-hyeok said.

He was speaking to the village elders at a barbecue party held that evening.

"Literally, it's a themed kindergarten set in the middle of a forest. Mothers who want their children to run around in nature send them there. They observe insects, play in the dirt, pluck leaves, and so on. Forest kindergartens are just as popular among mothers as English kindergartens."

Yun-hyeok had benchmarked the forest kindergarten model while planning the renovation of Doma Elementary School.

This elementary school was no longer a decaying, miserable rural school on the verge of closure.

It was now a premium elementary school that anyone would love to attend.

"However, the level of education the school provides must also be high. To achieve that, I need you elders to pitch in a bit."

Yun-hyeok's final card was the teaching staff.

The two beloved homeroom teachers and the administrative teacher who had been with the children all this time would, of course, remain.

But he wanted to take it a step further.

A premium elementary school needed elite instructors who could rival any private academy in the city, even if they weren't Gangnam's top-tier star lecturers.

And where would they find them?

"We will recruit temporary guest lecturers."

This time, they would have to pay them a salary, since they were professional instructors.

The local elites of Doma-myeon would pool their resources to cover those salaries. The recruited instructors would be on contract, enjoying a relaxing chon-cance—a rural vacation—in the village's vacant houses ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while sharing their specialized knowledge with the kids and earning a handsome income.

"Let's also hire a native English-speaking teacher."

A premium school had to have at least one native speaker, after all.

"Who the hell authorized the volunteer hours?"

The moment Kang Se-jin, the Director-General of Education at the Gyeonggi Provincial Office of Education, found out, he stormed down to the Mir Education Support Office in a towering rage.

"The provincial office's policy is to close that school down! What kind of brain-dead idiot approved volunteer hours for college students decorating it?! Why the hell are they decorating a school that's about to be demolished?!"

Kang Se-jin roared, slamming a stack of documents onto the desk.

The public servants all hung their heads low, desperately trying to avoid his wrath.

"The budget allocated for Mir City is incredibly tight! We already agreed to relocate an elementary school near the newly built Raymi Castle in Yeok-dong! We don't have a single cent of budget to waste on some backwater village school with a dozen fucking kids! You useless bastards!"

Kang Se-jin kicked a nearby filing cabinet with a loud crash.

The budget required to maintain a single school was substantial: purchasing textbooks and learning materials, lab and practice fees, after-school program operating costs, administrative expenses, student safety management, school events, equipment and facility maintenance, electricity, water, heating, and teachers' salaries.

Economies of scale applied to schools as well. Small schools in agricultural and fishing communities had fewer students, making the per-capita educational cost relatively much higher. From the Office of Education's perspective, a place like Doma Elementary School was a bottomless money pit.

Kang Se-jin had planned to dismantle it and reinvest those savings into the prestigious school districts of Seongnam. That way, when the election for Superintendent of Education came around, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his chances of winning would skyrocket.

"Fucking... bunch of morons."

But now, things had become incredibly tangled.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Pushing for the closure at this point would be career suicide. Without exaggeration, Kang Se-jin's face could end up on the next 9 O'Clock News as 'the man who destroyed the school.'

"Why on earth did they give them volunteer hours..."

Even as he vented his frustration, Kang Se-jin knew deep down that the volunteer hours weren't the real issue.

Who knew what went through the heads of the low-level bureaucrats who approved it? Trapped in their daily rut, they had probably just clicked the approval button without a second thought when they heard some volunteers wanted to spruce up a school in a rural village like Doma-myeon. They had likely signed off on it with a breezy, 'Well, it doesn't cost us anything! It's volunteer work, after all!' Even that guy, Lee Yun-hyeok, who applied for the volunteer program, probably hadn't expected much. But once the hours were actually approved, he must have been thrilled.

"Um... Director-General."

A secretary spoke up, warily reading the room.

"The principal of Doma Elementary... has invited a native English-speaking teacher and requested that they be registered as a temporary guest lecturer..."

"Ha... fuck."

Kang Se-jin clutched his head.

"W-what should we do?"

"What do you think we should do? If we go against anything that school is doing right now, we're completely fucked. Don't you get it? Just approve it."

The principal invited a native speaker? Ridiculous. There was no way the principal had pulled that off.

"Lee Yun-hyeok."

He was the mastermind behind everything happening at Doma Elementary School. He had never even tried to hide it. He hadn't bragged, but as the person in charge, his presence naturally stood out.

Gathering the volunteers, dragging in Raymi Castle, mobilizing the local elites and retired technicians...

It was all Lee Yun-hyeok's doing.

And perhaps even that missile strike disguised as gifts sent simultaneously to all those YouTubers.

The Director-General's political instincts flared. Something bizarre—a monstrous, ascending dragon—was writhing and awakening in Mir City.

"Suspend the closure plans entirely."

Kang Se-jin handed down the order with a bitter taste in his mouth.

His plans to swallow up that school were officially dead.

"They suspended the closure plans!"

The village chief bellowed at the top of his lungs.

He had been calling the Gyeonggi Provincial Office of Education every single day to ask about the status of the closure, and he had finally received the answer he wanted.

"Whoaaaaaa!"

The grandfathers, grandmothers, retired technicians, laborers, and college students at the site erupted in cheers.

"Yeahhhhh!"

The morel mushroom grandfather suddenly came running over and threw his arms around Yun-hyeok.

"Mr. Lee! No, wait! Mayor Lee! Hahaha!"

He went so far as to call Yun-hyeok "Mayor."

"I think I made a bit of a mistake before, eh? We failed to recognize a true savior right in front of us!"

"Aigoo! This is truly wonderful! Yun-hyeok, how on earth did you plan all of this?"

The pajama grandmother was also overjoyed.

"It really turned out well. It's all thanks to everyone here," Yun-hyeok replied.

Yun-hyeok dialed General Manager Choi Jun-taek. The man was incredibly busy and had already left the site quite some time ago.

Raymi Castle's reputation had literally skyrocketed. While the security camera dispute at the Yeok-dong Raymi Castle was a minor incident fit for local news, the Doma Elementary School issue had captured national attention.

For construction companies, brand image is everything.

This is because consumers fundamentally harbor a deep-seated belief that construction firms are nothing but swindlers.

But Raymi Castle had seized this opportunity to flip that perception on its head. They had effectively declared, 'Everyone else might be swindlers, but we aren't.'

"Even though Raymi Castle was playing games with security camera resolutions not too long ago," Yun-hyeok teased.

"Ahem."

General Manager Choi Jun-taek cleared his throat.

"I sincerely appreciate your help, General Manager. Mir City is a city with immense development potential. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the future."

"I'm glad to have met such an excellent business partner. I truly hope you become the Mayor."

"I will still keep public bidding strictly fair, though."

"Of course. But when the time comes, I assume you will include the Doma Elementary School incident as part of the evaluation criteria for selecting contractors."

"Naturally."

The same logic resonated with shareholders. 'Raymi Castle is different.' The image they secured through this event would heavily influence the company's future trajectory. Whenever they competed in major construction bids down the road, Raymi Castle would reap immense benefits from this reputation.

Driven by this investor sentiment, Raymi Castle's stock price surged by a staggering 10% in just two days.

And what did Raymi Castle spend to secure all those gains?

Laying sod, replacing window frames, and planting ornamental trees at an elementary school.

For a major conglomerate, it was practically pocket change.