University Festival: Tanghulu Temptation
The student council member in charge of inspections tilted his head when I held out the strawberry tanghulu and juice for review. It was obvious he'd never seen tanghulu before; his expression practically screamed, "Who in their right mind would eat this?"
"It's called tanghulu—fruit skewered on a stick and coated in sugar syrup. The strawberries are fresh, bought just this morning."
"Ah, right. If they're that fresh, there shouldn't be any issues. Just be careful if you're planning to use any meat or seafood, and make sure all cooking tools are..."
He rattled off the standard food-poisoning precautions in a bored, mechanical tone, clearly uninterested. Once he finished, he popped a piece of tanghulu into his mouth without any real expectation.
His eyes widened almost immediately.
"Huh? What the—why does this taste so good?"
He devoured the strawberry completely, then even sucked on the wooden skewer. The sight was a little unseemly, so I gave a light cough. He snapped back to his senses and cleared his throat in embarrassment.
"Ahem, ahem. Sorry about that. It was way better than I expected. You're from the Business Administration department, right? I'll definitely bring my girlfriend by later."
A student from another department waiting in line behind us asked curiously if it was really that delicious. I told him to come find the Business Administration stall if he was curious, then left.
"Oppa!"
"Huh? Naeun!"
On my way back to the stall, Park Naeun, a first-year, spotted me and waved. She wasn't alone—other first-years like Yoo Soyeon and girls I'd met at the retreat were gathered in small groups. They seemed to be enjoying the festival together. The juniors greeted me lightly.
Park Naeun walked over.
"Weren't you supposed to be preparing the stall?"
"I just stepped out for a bit. Time to head back and work."
"I wanted to try working in a maid outfit too."
"You'd just eat everything and do no work, so no."
Putting aside the eating part, she was such a walking disaster that I couldn't risk letting her help. Her older sister, Park Nayoung, felt the same—she never called her little sister in even when the café got busy. Naeun had a special talent for creating more work than she finished.
"Ugh, Oppa, you're so mean. If you're going to be like that, buy me something tasty."
"Shoo, shoo. Go away. I'm broke."
I had my card, but the festival only accepted cash. With just a single 10,000-won bill in my pocket, I tried to refuse, but she latched onto my arm and refused to let go.
"Then at least win me that!"
"Win what...? Arm wrestling?"
"Oppa, you're an arm-wrestling expert! If you win four matches, you get a power bank made by Apple!"
I looked where she pointed. Members of what seemed to be a sports club—mostly burly guys and one girl—were running an arm-wrestling booth. A sign advertised 5,000 won per match, with prizes for consecutive wins:
- 1 win: Soju voucher
- 2 wins: Anju voucher
- 3 wins: Soju + Anju voucher
- 4 wins: Apple power bank
- 5 wins: Hotel restaurant tasting ticket for two
Professional athletes were banned. The soju and anju vouchers could only be used at the club's own pub later that evening. The first opponent was a normal-looking girl who appeared to be the manager, not one of the muscular guys. Most people won their first match and received the soju voucher. Since a bottle of soju at the pub cost about 5,000 won anyway, several students had lined up thinking it was worth a shot.
"They've got some brains," I muttered. By giving away cheap soju vouchers, they were advertising their pub. If people didn't show up, the vouchers were worthless anyway. Either way, the club profited—assuming no one reached three wins. So far, no one had.
"Oppa! Hurry up, hurry!"
"I'm good."
"Eh? Why?!"
"If I step in, it'll ruin the balance. This festival is for students to enjoy. No point in shutting down their business on day one."
"Hmm, I guess. Yeah, if you joined, they'd stand no chance."
It wasn't an official tournament—just something the students had worked hard to organize. Jumping in would be like an adult barging into a kids' playground and stealing their toys. I was about to walk away when someone from the booth called out, having overheard us.
"Hey, instead of just talking, why don't you try it yourself? Who says we stand no chance? You look like the one who wouldn't last a second."
The guy was addressing me as if I'd been the one talking, even though it was Naeun. He glanced at the girls around me, clearly trying to show off by embarrassing me. He'd picked the wrong target.
"If he wants to get beaten that badly, I might as well oblige."
Thinking it would be fun to watch, everyone cleared space. I stepped up to the table.
The first opponent was the girl I'd seen earlier. I won the moment our hands locked, but no one reacted—it was expected. When the second and third opponents, both guys, went down just as easily, the mood shifted. They'd poked what they thought was a soft target and discovered a hornet's nest instead.
The fourth opponent was the guy who'd called me out. He had decent arm muscles, but if even actual arm-wrestling athletes weren't my match, he never stood a chance.
"Please go easy on me."
"Y-yeah, likewise."
His voice trembled as he realized his taunt had just tanked their business from the start. His palm was slick with cold sweat when we gripped hands. The moment we began, his face turned beet red as he poured every ounce of strength into it, but it was like pushing against a mountain. Despair crept across his face as his arm slowly gave way. When his hand finally touched the table, the match was over.
I reached four wins without breaking a sweat. Naeun and the other girls cheered loudly. The booth staff looked shell-shocked. Five wins didn't seem impossible at this rate. If I kept going, their first day of the festival would turn into a funeral.
"This should be enough."
The guy had picked a fight to impress the girls, but Naeun had also spoken out of turn. I decided to stop at four wins—the exact prize she'd wanted: the Apple power bank.
When I stood up, he flinched.
"Hand it over."
"Huh?"
"I won four times. Give me the power bank."
"R-right away."
He handed it over immediately, terrified I might change my mind, then apologized profusely for starting trouble. I didn't need the power bank, so I gave it to Naeun.
"Hehe, thanks, Oppa. I'll use it well."
"Yeah, yeah. Happy now?"
As I turned to head back to the Business Administration stall, another first-year girl spoke up.
"By the way, there's a game over there where you throw sandbags to knock things over. The grand prize is the latest Apple iPad."
"Oppa! It says iPad! iPad!"
Naeun's eyes sparkled at the mention of an Apple iPad and grabbed my arm again.
"They're giving away an iPad as a prize?"
Even as a loss leader, that didn't add up. iPads cost nearly a million won depending on the model. We headed over to check it out.
A long line had already formed. It was a classic sandbag-throwing game—knock over the target to win the prize. Inside a wooden partition resembling a bookshelf were piles of stuffed toys. In one corner sat a fake Apple iPad box with the model name written on it. Knock that over and you'd supposedly win a real iPad. Five sandbags for 5,000 won.
I'd assumed it would be rigged to be difficult, but aside from the box being tucked in the corner, there were no real obstacles. Everyone seemed to think it was doable and kept throwing.
"You do this one yourself. Winning something that expensive with my help would just be bad for business."
"Tch, fine."
Naeun must have agreed it looked manageable, because when her turn came she threw with confidence. Her first sandbag hit the iPad box.
"It hit—ah, so close!"
It looked like a direct hit, but the box only wobbled and stayed upright. She hit it again on the next throw, yet it still refused to fall.
"Hngh, why won't it go down?"
From my angle, I could see why. Someone had secured the box from below so it would only shake, never tip over.
"These bastards..."
A ridiculously expensive prize that looked just barely out of reach—pure bait to drain people's money. Once suspicion grew, they'd remove the rigging, let a friend win, and walk away with the prize. This was outright fraud, something that had no place at a university festival.
I took the last sandbag from Naeun. She lit up, already imagining the iPad in her hands. I turned to the guy who looked like the manager.
"You didn't rig anything underneath that box, did you?"
He flinched at the word "rig," then answered smoothly.
"Of course not. If there was anything like that, it wouldn't even wobble when hit."
"Is that so?"
I took my stance. He tensed for a moment, but when my sandbag flew in completely the wrong direction, he smirked. The smirk lasted only until—
BOOM!
A thunderous crash echoed far louder than any sandbag should have made. The wooden partition took a direct hit in the center and slowly toppled forward. Stuffed toys flew everywhere. Only one box—the iPad box—remained perfectly upright, defying physics.
The crowd's stares turned icy.
"It didn't fall."
"W-wait, this is..."
We opened the real iPad box. It was completely empty—he'd never intended to give one away.
"Y-you—!"
The guy tried to run. I grabbed another sandbag and hurled it at his legs. He went down hard, rolling across the ground.
Students on patrol rushed over at the commotion. After I explained what happened, one of them approached the scammer.
"Could I see your student ID?"
"Uh, well, you see..."
He wasn't a student at all—just an outside vendor who'd paid to set up shop. A police car arrived shortly after, and he was handcuffed and taken away.
"Wow, Oppa, that was amazing."
"How did you even do that?"
The first-year girls looked at me with admiration after I'd exposed the fraud so quickly. Only Naeun, who'd been dreaming of the iPad, stared at me with teary, betrayed eyes.