The Water Evangelist Departs

The moment PD Hwang Hyun-woo heard Joo Jae-rim announce he was leaving the show, his face drained of all color.

He'd already resolved to shut the program down the day Jae-rim quit, and he was pushing Jae-rim to the forefront as shamelessly as he possibly could. For Jae-rim to walk away now was like hanging a sign reading We're Open for Business on a building that was already half-collapsed.

Please, Jae-rim! If you leave, the show is dead!

And yet he couldn't bring himself to tell the kid the truth. As an adult, and as the main PD, his professional pride was directly on the line.

"The more I think about it, the cleaner it is if I'm the one who steps down—"

"Jae-rim, let me handle this first. We'll talk later."

The moment Jae-rim brought up leaving a second time, Hwang Hyun-woo declared that he would resolve the issue himself and hurried out of the room.

And then he really did run himself ragged.

That day, the main PD mobilized every last connection he'd built over a lifetime in the broadcasting industry.

"Oh, so this kid is Director Joo Sang-hyun's son? But what about that recent assault controversy—"

"That was malicious reporting. The truth is, Jae-rim put up with it and put up with it until some kid was swearing his head off at him, and he finally snapped and fought back."

"Wow. I'd heard kids these days have foul mouths, but heaven's sake—filthy verbal abuse, too?"

"Kids cursed each other out plenty in our day, too. What's the big deal now?"

"I was too busy studying back then to notice."

Jae-rim's father, Joo Sang-hyun, also played a major role in persuading the network—thanks to his excellent reputation within the industry.

In any case, once the media began reporting on the actual cause of the incident:

It didn't take long for public opinion to flip entirely.

After the incident was covered on the broadcast itself, public opinion split exactly down the middle.

One side held that violence was still going too far. The other held that the little brat had it coming.

But the strange thing was that opinion kept tilting further and further toward the latter.

Because the people defending the first position had started getting profanity hurled at them in the comments.

Is this what they call mirror therapy?

In any case.

The incident had mass-produced a sizable legion of anti-fans, but the controversy itself was wrapped up without any major problems.

The main PD, however, apparently wasn't satisfied, and launched a full-scale image rehabilitation campaign on my behalf.

...I did that?

I figured I'd better start monitoring the broadcasts myself before long.

From there, time flew by.

The overseas filming schedule I'd been praying would never arrive was drawing steadily closer.

We were set to depart for Spain the coming Sunday.

Just thinking about being cooped up in training camp with a bunch of ankle-biters already filled me with dread.

"Jae-rim, have a safe trip."

As I stared blankly at the ceiling, some kid whose name I didn't know wandered up to me.

The news that I was heading abroad for a broadcast shoot had been spread school-wide through my homeroom teacher.

It struck me anew: people these days had mouths far too loose.

Could a face-to-face session with a big corporation's legal team — the etiquette-enforcement boot camp of the 21st century — fix that, I wondered?

"Sure. You take care too."

In any case, I nodded along to the kid's farewell. Thinking of today as my last day had made me positively magnanimous.

"Jae-rim, do you know who I am?"

The kid, startled by my unexpected response, shot back a question with a shocked look on his face.

"No."

I answered without a second's hesitation. It was the first time I'd ever seen the face.

"...I'm your desk partner."

Whatever.

"Whoa. Joo Jae-rim, unbelievable. He can't even recognize his own desk partner."

"At that point, isn't something wrong with him?"

The kids around us suddenly burst out laughing.

What's so funny about that?

Elementary schooler sensibilities were utterly beyond my comprehension.

In any case — though I couldn't list it all — quite a lot had happened at school in the meantime.

The biggest incident was my clash with the principal.

Nothing special, really.

Without consulting me in the slightest, the principal had unilaterally decided to establish a new football club, and offered me a place in it.

Why is it that a guy offering you candy never crosses your mind, but you'll gulp down kimchi broth all by yourself?

Simply put, there were far too many pathetic adults out there who, faced with an inexperienced child, tried to exploit them for everything they were worth without offering anything in return.

"No thanks."

I turned down the principal's offer, naturally. It was a proposal that brought me nothing but losses.

Even the hours I was already pouring into the broadcast were a waste; there was no reason to burn additional time on a football club on top of that.

At least the broadcast makes my parents happy.

When I refused, the principal sank so low as to threaten me.

And even after my refusal, he obstructed my broadcast activities at every possible turn.

Well. To a regressor, all of it was utterly trivial.

I should start preparing a transfer soon. And while I'm at it, maybe look into homeschooling.

But before I could so much as mention a transfer to my parents, the main PD — sick of the interference with his filming — showed up at the school alongside a PD from an investigative exposé program.

That very day, the principal unconditionally declared surrender.

Is it really okay for people like that to exist in education?

I lamented the principal's utter spinelessness.

I'd expected him to hold out at least once.

Saturday.

One day remained until our departure for Spain.

Since they wanted to film me packing my luggage, my father raised his smartphone yet again.

Perhaps because his last video had been showered with praise online—

my father was setting up separate lighting and framing his shots like an absolute professional.

...You're really going all out.

Part of me wondered if it wasn't a bit much.

But he was clearly enjoying himself, so I stayed quiet and let him be.

In any case.

Once they'd finished filming every last inch of my packing, I sat down on the sofa.

"...You're filming this too?"

"Yep. The footage is way too short, so we'll need to shoot some extra."

Due to broadcast runtime issues, they'd decided to shoot additional footage of me monitoring the show.

"I'm getting paid for this, right?"

My father gave his usual OK sign, and I nodded.

The TV commercial ended, and the broadcast began.

It was nothing special.

Just an ordinary episode of the kids picking their uniforms over snacks.

The set atmosphere hadn't been bad, so there wasn't much to react to.

...Huh? What's that.

But the problem came from somewhere entirely unexpected.

The letters "PPL" were printed in the upper corner of the screen.

"Jae-rim, you don't like soft drinks?"

"They're bad for your health. I'll just have water."

And in that very instant, the main PD's gaze began darting wildly back and forth.

...I'm dead.

First, let me offer a brief defense—

I had absolutely no idea that product was a placement.

According to the broadcast content revealed afterward, the advertiser had wanted the kids' "authentic reactions" and specifically requested that the cast not be told about the PPL.

But what mattered to the public wasn't facts — it was laughs.

That day.

My list of nicknames gained a new entry: the Water Evangelist of the Korean Peninsula.

The next day, in the small hours of Sunday morning.

My father and I headed to Incheon International Airport to depart for Spain.

It would have been nice for my mother to come to Spain with us, but with her recent pregnancy, she couldn't travel for safety reasons.

...A little sister, huh.

Well.

I vaguely seemed to recall there'd been a brief ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stretch, ages ago, when something like that had happened too.

It was a little sister back then as well, I think.

It had been so long that the memory didn't come easily.

I didn't feel anything in particular about the news of my parents' pregnancy.

Aside from my parents, everyone else in my life had always been a passing presence to me.

Even a sibling, I figured, would be no great exception.

We completed the boarding procedures as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb the other passengers.

An hour ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠later, we boarded the plane bound for Spain.

Fly World Class 11 arrived in Spain.

With the flight alone taking fifteen hours, it was decided we'd head straight to our lodgings and rest.

Upon landing, my father immediately called my mother to tell her we'd arrived safely. Ten years had passed since their wedding, yet watching the two of them still so openly in love was a heartwarming sight.

The moment my father hung up, I felt my own smartphone buzz.

When I checked it, a message from my mother caught my eye.

I sent a reply to my mother, then climbed into the vehicle headed for our lodgings.

The accommodation was a spacious, standalone house.

Presumably, with so many young children in the cast, they'd booked a private house for safety's sake.

Room assignments began.

For the female cast members, the matter was settled quickly — the idol-turned-actress Hong Ji-min and Yoo Min-jung, the sole girl on Fly World Class 11, would simply share a room.

The real problem was the male cast, myself included.

For starters, every single kid wanted to avoid sharing a room with Director Lee Jae-jin.

Whoosh—

But I raised my hand and volunteered to room with the very director everyone else was avoiding.

I'd judged that sharing with one director beat sharing with three children.

"...Jae-rim."

Lee Jae-jin, unaware of my reasoning, gazed at me with touched eyes for a good while.

In any case, aside from the room assignments, we took the rest of the day to rest with no real filming.

And then that evening.

"Jae-rim, any worries on your mind? About football, or anything else?"

Director Lee Jae-jin was straining to squeeze out some usable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠footage.

"No, sir. Lights out."

"...Already?"

"Goodnight."

"...Right. Sleep well."

The second the clock hit ten in the evening, I switched off the lights and went to bed.

Growth demanded it.

Eating well and sleeping well were, above all else, the most important things.

The next day.

Fly World Class 11 officially kicked off its overseas filming.

The first club we would meet in Spain was Valencia CF — the club Cristiano Ronaldo had acquired.

It was also the former club of a player named Lee Kang-jin, who had once appeared on Shootdol-i, the senior program to Fly World Class 11.

"That son of a— no, that no-show bas— no, the FOOTBALL GOD is really coming?"

PD Hwang Hyun-woo's nickname for Cristiano Ronaldo morphed in an instant from "that bastard who no-showed at Seoul World Cup Stadium" to "His Football Godness."

That was how shocking Cristiano Ronaldo's sudden visit was.

Ah, glorious. I can already hear the ratings exploding.

Hwang Hyun-woo's heart began pounding like a drum.

If Cristiano Ronaldo merely watched Joo Jae-rim's play and tossed off even a single casual remark about it, viewership would skyrocket.

But the main PD's sweet dream—

"Director, I'm not feeling well today. I don't think I can play."

—was sent hurtling into the sky by Joo Jae-rim's sudden declaration of a no-show.