Deciding the Winner
Kim Manbung had walked only the path of success in his previous life. Though it ended in ruin because he fell for the wrong woman, now that he'd reflected on it, he was determined to live an even better life than before.
Of course, starting over from childhood with an adult mind would let him build even better specs. But showing too much genius would draw excessive attention, and nine times out of ten, that meant outside pressure. Not wanting his freedom restricted, I aimed to play the role of the top student among my peers—nothing more. The exam I'd just taken was at one of the prestigious high schools in the capital area, where top students flocked.
The entrance exam was notoriously tough, but once you got in and kept your grades up, they supported not just college prep but arts, athletics, and even job placements. It was the optimal choice for deciding your future path, so I needed to score as high as possible here. No, if possible, I shouldn't stop there—I had to prepare for the exams after enrollment too.
"Hey, Kim Manbung! Where do you think you're going?!"
To that end, I'd planned to head straight home after the exam, but as always, that ghost-like shout made me hesitate in my tracks.
Sigh, here we go again.
"The exam's over, so I'm heading home."
"Home? Once the exam's done, you should come see my face first!"
You're neither my mom nor my sister—why would I report in to you every time? Swallowing words that would fall on deaf ears, I confessed my desire to go home right in front of Mary.
"...Sorry, but I don't think I can hang out today. I've got a lot piled up at home."
"Hah, who doesn't know you're just gonna go home and read books anyway? And who said I called you to play?"
"Then should I come to your place and tutor you?"
"Wh-what?! Why would you come to my house?!"
Mary's face flushed red as she recoiled in horror. It had to be the typical reaction of a pubescent girl repulsed by the idea of a boy her age visiting her home. Brushing it off as no big deal, I smirked and tossed my usual provocation her way.
"Come on, if we're gonna have a showdown, isn't competing on grades the best? Now that I think about it, we've never actually bet on test scores."
"Hey, don't underestimate me! Betting on test scores is way too in your favor anyway!"
"Ooh, unexpected~ To think you'd admit so easily that there's something I'm better at than you."
"Guh... ugh...!"
Finally realizing her slip, Mary clamped her mouth shut. But unable to quell her anger, she stormed past me and took the lead, as usual.
"A-anyway, we're competing today, so get ready! This time, I'll flatten that high nose of yours!"
Yeah, yeah~ If that's what the rich young lady wants, a commoner like me has no choice but to obey.
Bets, duels, competitions... whatever you called them, Mary and I had been staking our pride on them for ages. Mostly at her instigation, of course. The trigger was always her displeasure at a commoner like me daring to measure up to a chaebol heiress. And those bets had continued unbroken for the ten years since.
That made sense—she'd never beaten me once.
Yet she kept challenging me without giving up. Was it grit, or stubbornness?
"Today's bet is this!"
Refusing would just mean she'd show up at my house and throw a tantrum, so I couldn't let my family see that shrewish side of her. The place we ended up was a batting cage in downtown.
A simple sport where you swing a bat at balls launched from a machine—requiring skill and practice.
"Whoever hits the most balls wins."
Striding confidently into the cage, Mary swung her bat with more enthusiasm and self-assurance than ever. Before, anxiety about winning and fear of losing had held her back from her full potential... Was this fire from puberty hitting?
"You seem pretty confident today."
"Heh, of course. I've been training hard for the past week just for this."
Oh, right—a week. Meaning, right before the entrance exam for an elite high school, she'd spent her time alone at a batting cage instead of cramming?
"Did you even study? You didn't just scribble one line and nap during the exam, did you?"
"A-as if I'd do something that stupid! And test scores? As long as I don't fail, I can get in somehow..."
"...Satisfying with bare-minimum passing might make your dad reconsider handing the company to you."
"Sh-shut up!! Why do you care about my family?!"
True enough. We're not family, and there's no plan for that either.
Clang!
The bet was on, and Mary was hitting balls one after another with practiced form. Her smooth swing connected cleanly every time, showing she had some real athletic talent.
"Nice batting average. Due for a foul any second, but they're all hits."
"Heh, that's the result of my special training."
With that, she twirled her bat flashy-style, pointing the handle my way. Her narrowed eyes gleamed with certainty of victory and anticipation of mocking me.
"Your turn. You know the rules—since I hit them all, miss even one and you lose."
Man, how badly does she want to beat me to put that much force into her voice? Sure, I could throw it since I've always won, but I approached this bet seriously too.
As an adult, it'd be embarrassing, but honestly, I didn't want to see her gloating for a whole year over finally getting revenge.
Clang, clang, clang!!
Swing after swing sent balls flying farther than hers—judged as homers, way beyond hits. Maybe the bat's grip was just perfect today. The balls were flying great.
"H-how... I trained so hard. How can a bookworm who just stares at pages...?"
Mary stared in stunned disbelief, as if her efforts were invalidated. Seeing that, I figured it'd end like always. Resetting my bat, I tossed lightly at her.
"You got all hits, I got all homers... so I win this one, right?"
"N-no!"
Even with the obvious result, she couldn't admit it? Snapping out of it, Mary rolled her eyes desperately before spitting out a sophistic excuse.
"N-no! I said the one who hits more balls wins! We both hit the same number, so it's a tie! A tie!"
"...Kinda pathetic, honestly."
"Shut up!! I didn't lose! I didn't!!"
Sigh, I thought high school might mature her, but her denial's gotten worse.
"Fine, tie means we go again. Wanna see who can hit them all perfectly, alternating? FYI, I'm pretty confident in my stamina too."
Of course, she knew more rounds would favor me. Short bursts maybe, but long ones like races or swims always ended in her defeat.
"W-wait. Doing the same thing's boring. Let's do something else."
"Oh, sure, 'boring'—got it."
"Wh-what's weird about that? Bets should be fun! N-now, follow me!"
Sure, sure—gotta go if she says so.
We ended up at a nearby arcade. Mary plunked two coins into a machine and beckoned me to sit beside her.
"Fighting game this time?"
"Wh-what's wrong with fighters? Perfect for betting."
"Hmm, honestly, for a real bet, who'd get higher test scores is better..."
"Argh! You dragged me here and you're still on studying?! Just sit!!"
Figures for the heir to a toy company—she loves games. Mary & Chris dealt in games too, so she had skills, but ironically, I was good at them too. Not control, but finding surefire wins.
"H-hey! Spamming projectiles from behind is cheap! Don't run—fight fair!"
"Bets are ruthless."
"Aaaah! Invalid! Something else!!"
Guess cheap tactics don't count. Then I'll just keep pressuring till her spirit breaks. I dominated most genres in the arcade, pushing her relentlessly.
Her face paled, grasping at her last straw: a claw machine.
"P-please grab it, just grab!"
Clasping her hands in prayer as the claw descended. It gripped the doll's head perfectly... but shook loose from the motion, dropping short of the hole.
"Aaaah! Why won't it work?! Just a bit farther!"
"Everyone knows claw machines are rigged for the house. Toy company heir and you didn't know?"
"Shut up! I'll keep going till it works!"
Wow, shifting from skill to pay-to-win now? But glancing at her wallet, her face crumpled. Peeking in, I saw she was nearly out of coins.
"Allowance running low, huh."
"Ugh..."
Sad she couldn't continue? Even if she pushed on with bleeding cash, the moment of doubt meant she couldn't go all-in anymore.
Then no need to torture her further—just end it.
"Not doing it? My turn."
Shoving her aside, I fed in a coin, maneuvered the crane to target the doll she missed. A quick snap to adjust position, press to drop—the claw gripped its neck and smoothly dragged it to the chute.
Clunk, and out popped the bunny doll.
"There, got it."
"H-how?!"
"Ways and means."
House rigs the crane? Analyze the trigger and counter with extra inputs. Another win tallied in our endless war, and Mary's face twisted like she might cry.
"Ugh... Why, why can't I ever win...?"
Yeah, her pride's getting crushed. Surrounded by sycophants, endless luxuries—a life of superiority. Realizing there's a wall even her birth can't overcome must hurt a girl not yet mature.
But pitying her now—would that let her grow? She'd falter in future crises after inheriting the company if she only won. Getting used to loss starts now, while she's still a kid.
At least, that's what I think. And after planting defeat, a little comfort's needed too.
"Here, take it."
"Huh?"
Handing her the bunny, her eyes went wide. Staring blankly, I gave a wry smile casually.
"A guy about to start high school isn't gonna cuddle a bunny doll to sleep. But you like cute stuff, so stick it on your shelf or whatever."
"..."
"...Too nosy?"
Come to think, toy heir probably has dolls overflowing. Hope she doesn't see it as pity.
"Th-tha...nk..."
As her mouth cracked open, she seemed about to say it. Curious, I looked—then she averted her eyes sharply, realizing her slip.
"Wh-what. If you're insisting on giving it, I won't say no. The great heir to Mary & Chris deigns to accept your tribute—be grateful."
"Yeah, sure. Feels real honored."
Honestly, I'd half-expected her to trash it in hate, so this was fine. Thinking the bet wrapped up, Mary clutched the doll tight and pointed at me with her usual vow.
"But don't get cocky. You won today, but next time, I'll win for sure. Wash your neck and wait!"
Man, after hundreds of losses, most would quit. But if getting back up is peak Mary, then it's Mary.
Calling after her as she tried to bolt:
"Wait, Mary. You weren't planning to just leave, right?"
"Wh-what?"
"Loser pays the winner's demand."
Within reason, sure—but that means squeezing to the limit if possible. Like mooching snacks from a poor girl short on allowance till payday.
"Oh yeah, there's this dessert at a nearby café—supposedly amazing, but too pricey to try."
"Y-you!!"
Realizing, she shrieked at me with grievance and resentment.
"You devil! Jerk! Manbung!"
Hey, last one's not an insult.