Kneel! (2)
“Lee-sensei!”
“Yes, Director!”
Monday morning in the teachers’ lounge of Cheonghwa High School.
Academic Affairs Director Wang Jindeok had summoned math teacher Lee Jangyong.
“Wrap this up by noon. I’ll back you from behind.”
Wang Jindeok could not defy the will of Parent Association President Ju Miju. He needed the mess cleaned up quickly so he could finally collect the pocket money he had yet to pocket.
Disposing of a single Sabaeja—a social underdog—was not even worth counting as real work. To a man who had spent years dealing with the scions of powerful families, a student without backing was nothing at all.
Even if the test results reflected genuine ability, it made no difference. Once the people above applied pressure, a Sabaeja had no means of withstanding it. That was simply their fate.
Things like this had happened before. Of course, among the Sabaeja students there were occasional genuine prodigies—students who even claimed the top rank of the entire school. But those students never managed to graduate either. They could not endure the relentless pressure from the children of prestigious families and the teachers those families had bought.
In the Cheonghwa Empire, even a Sabaeja who took first place in the school was still just a Sabaeja. No matter how delicious a side dish might be, it could never replace the main course.
Even the ones who gritted their teeth and held on eventually collapsed under the constant, merciless shouting. Wang Jindeok’s choice today was simply the same choice that had been repeated since the past. He felt not the slightest hesitation—and these days he even took a certain pleasure in it.
How dare he… What kind of place does he think Cheonghwa is!
Sabaeja students were meant to serve only as extras and props for the school’s honor, exactly as originally planned. The protagonists of this world had already been decided.
“Heh heh heh.”
Anticipating a nicely padded wallet, Wang Jindeok let out a sly, greasy laugh.
“Why hasn’t it gone up?”
“Has this ever happened before?”
“Never. And it’s Monday…”
Class 3 of the second year. The classroom atmosphere was unusually restless that morning.
It was the first Monday after the midterms, the day when every student’s scores were posted on the central hallway bulletin board—a long-standing tradition of Cheonghwa High. At any ordinary public school the practice would have triggered an uproar over privacy and student rights, but Cheonghwa was the exception. As an autonomous private high school it thoroughly ignored every recommendation from the Office of Education, and the Office itself issued only formal warnings it never actually enforced.
Parents and students alike accepted the administration as a matter of course. Korea’s upper class regarded this kind of open competition as an essential condition for survival.
Yet today an unprecedented anomaly had occurred. The score sheets that should have been publicly displayed first thing Monday morning were nowhere to be seen.
“Something must have happened, right?”
“Like what?”
“Maybe someone cheated…”
“Oh my god!”
“For real?”
A story began to take shape among the clusters of students chatting together.
Is something going on?
Staring at the empty bulletin board, Lee Hyoju felt a prickle of unease as well. She had never once lost first place in her class, yet school-wide she always hovered around third or fourth. No matter how hard she pushed, she could never break through that concrete ceiling. A gap existed that sheer effort could not close.
She had actually been looking forward to this exam. Her mother had hired a highly skilled private tutor—the expensive, top-tier kind that actually improved results. Except for mathematics, the impregnable fortress of Cheonghwa, she had handled the rest of the subjects smoothly. And now the public posting of scores had been delayed.
Footsteps approached. A figure stepped through the front door of the classroom—a male student whose style and presence had completely transformed.
Every face in Class 3 shifted; every gaze swung toward a single direction. These were children born with golden spoons, their senses finely tuned by a lifetime among the upper class. Even the smallest change registered instantly with them.
Not long ago Ha Taewoong had still carried the distinctive scent of the lower class. The boy who now walked through the front door had arrived at school fully transformed.
The watch glimpsed on his wrist was a luxury brand—one that even students from well-off families would hesitate to wear in high school. His indoor shoes were the limited seasonal model that Hyeondo Department Store had supplied exclusively to VIPs. The fabric of his uniform looked different too. His hair had been styled clean and sharp, exactly the way a Cheonghwa student should look. The once scrawny, hunched frame now seemed strangely solid. His tall height and handsome face stood out more than ever; anyone looking would call him the approachable, likable type. He radiated a charisma and overwhelming presence that would make even a popular idol think twice about handing over a business card.
“What the…”
“…”
The first reactions came from the girls. They were the ones most sensitive to any change in Ha Taewoong. They had always looked down on him for being a Sabaeja, yet his good looks and height had never failed to catch their eyes. Unlike the permanently cowed figure of before, he now possessed the kind of visual that could pass for upper-class without anyone questioning it. More than that, he gave off an aura of an entirely different caliber—an air of authority that rivaled even Lee Hyoju, the absolute sovereign of the class.
Taewoong lifted his eyes and smiled at every classmate whose gaze met his. His unwavering stare met theirs head-on.
“…”
The students whose eyes he caught flinched and hurriedly looked away. The aftershocks of the Oh Gwangjun violence incident still lingered.
“Cute… Heh.”
Taewoong let out a short, amused snort at the ones who averted their eyes, then found himself locking gazes with Lee Hyoju.
“Hyoju, morning~”
He raised one hand and gave her a light, casual wave.
“Is he insane?”
“To Hyoju??”
The class erupted in shock. Lee Hyoju was a chaebol-family member whom ordinary students hesitated even to address. A mere Sabaeja was never supposed to acknowledge her existence.
“Uh… morning.”
Lee Hyoju returned the greeting.
“Huh!”
“Ah!!”
“Wh-what?!”
Gasps of pure astonishment burst across the room. The almighty Lee Hyoju had actually responded to a Sabaeja’s greeting.
“So… why’s the atmosphere like this?”
Taewoong asked as he found his seat and sat down.
“The score sheets weren’t posted.”
“Ah. The scores.”
He straightened his chair and gave a small nod. That was the end of his reaction. With an expression that showed zero interest in the score sheets, he pulled out his smartphone. Unlike the rest of the class, he seemed completely unbothered.
Is he just not expecting anything from his grades?
Watching Taewoong’s calm demeanor, Lee Hyoju felt a flicker of envy. He had claimed he would take the exam with his usual ability. Judging by the total lack of expression, he must have bombed it. In any case, Sabaeja students never entered university through principal recommendations or early admissions; the only proper path for them was the regular CSAT track.
Footsteps again. A familiar silhouette appeared in the front doorway—the math teacher every Cheonghwa student dreaded, the psycho Lee Jangyong. Thick gold-rimmed glasses perched on his face, he scanned the classroom with a thunderous scowl.
“……??”
Every student in Class 3 froze in confusion. He was not even their math teacher. There was no reason for him to be here…
“Who’s Ha Taewoong in this class?”
His uniquely unfriendly, grating voice filled the entire room. Every pair of eyes swung toward Taewoong sitting in the back. Lee Jangyong’s gaze followed theirs and landed on him.
“You’re Ha Taewoong?”
He looked like a judge who had already decided on a guilty verdict and had only come to deliver the sentence.
“I’m Ha Taewoong. What’s this about?”
“……!!”
“Whoa…”
While everyone else was busy reading the room around the psycho math teacher, Taewoong’s posture never wavered. He showed not the slightest fear. The entire class dropped their jaws. This was not how one faced the absolute monarch who controlled mathematics at Cheonghwa High. In a voice almost stripped of emotion, Taewoong simply asked why he was being sought.
“A little cheating bastard… and still acting so bold.”
“Ch-cheating?”
“Ha Taewoong??”
The students reeled at the math teacher’s unbelievable accusation. Ha Taewoong, who until days ago had possessed zero presence in the classroom, had somehow become a complete troublemaker in the span of a few days. Even so, branding him a cheater was a massive overreach. He was a Sabaeja. How could cheating even be possible at Cheonghwa?
“Cheating? Me?”
Taewoong asked again without the slightest trace of fluster.
“Haa! Has this bastard’s guts swollen up, or is he just shameless because he’s a Sabaeja?”
An open sneer twisted Lee Jangyong’s mouth. He was no ordinary teacher. He was a psychopath who derived pure joy from tormenting growing students through mathematics. There were students who were simply never supposed to pass his exams—especially Sabaeja. He simply could not accept that reality.
“Heh…”
Taewoong snorted.
“You little shit! Hey! Are you looking down on me right now? You fucking Sabaeja bastard!!”
The snort blew the lid clean off Lee Jangyong’s temper; he lost all reason and spat a stream of raw curses.
“…”
Class 3 fell into a silence thick with shock and awe. The students glanced around, thrown into confusion by the sudden power struggle between Lee Jangyong and Ha Taewoong.
A Monday morning that set the rhythm for the entire week—and already a storm had swept through the classroom before the first period even began.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahaha.”
Taewoong burst into a wild, booming laugh. The sound filled the classroom with an eerie, almost grotesque resonance.