The Language of the People
As everyone reacted with the same look of confusion, the Korean instructor in his early forties gave a wry smile. "Has anyone here ever seen this word before?"
No one raised a hand.
"In truth, this word has no meaning. However, when you read it, you must pronounce it as 'fish'."
The students became even more bewildered.
"Is it even a real word?" someone asked. The instructor nodded.
"A good question. This word has existed since 1855, created to criticize the irregular pronunciation rules of English. Honestly, the moment you saw it, you all read it as 'go-ti', didn't you?"
As everyone nodded in agreement, the instructor took the opportunity to write the word 'Listen' on the blackboard. "Everyone, this word means 'to hear'. However, it is pronounced 'li-sen'. Does anyone think that is strange?"
A white man who looked to be in his mid-forties raised his hand. "I've thought it was strange since I was a child. Why is there a 'T' if you don't pronounce the 'T'?"
Everyone nodded as if they felt the same way.
"Exactly. 'Listen' contains a 'T', but that 'T' has no effect on the pronunciation at all. There are many such words in English." The consensus among the students grew stronger.
"And because of these problems, you could die in future missions." The classroom was instantly filled with a sense of unease.
"Everyone, think carefully. Here, we have Koreans, Soviets, and Americans mixed together. So, whose language is the right one to use?"
If they didn't share a common sorrow, everyone would have thought, 'Obviously, it should be the language I use.' But they had developed camaraderie while living together. They were all comrades who carried the painful memories of war.
Because of that, no one could answer easily; they just glanced at each other.
"Everyone, have you ever experienced problems in real life because of pronunciation like this? I suspect you have. Does anyone?" At the instructor's words, everyone raised their hands.
People often think that communication between English speakers is easy, but surprisingly, speaking the same language doesn't guarantee understanding. There are cases where you can barely understand someone depending on their region.
"In that sense, I'd like to introduce you to a truly excellent language."
Without using the word 'Hangul', the instructor picked one Korean student, three Soviet students, and three American students.
"Korean student, put on these headsets." The Korean student, wearing headsets blasting loud music, was turned around by the instructor.
"From now on, I will give each of you a single word. Memorize the pronunciation well." Through the interpretation of the class president and vice-president, the meanings were conveyed clearly, and the instructor taught the students six words and the tasks they needed to perform with them.
A moment later, he took the headsets off the Korean student and brought out a box filled with various items.
"Now, begin."
At the instructor's signal, the first black student spoke to the Korean student. "Gga-i!"
Hearing the word, the Korean student took a pair of scissors from the box and handed them to the student. A third of the students in the classroom looked somewhat surprised. The pronunciation was clearly different from the instructor's, yet the Korean student had retrieved the item without issue.
"Next student."
As soon as the instructor spoke, a white student said, "Ddong!"
The Korean students sitting in their seats laughed, but the Korean student retrieved 'money' (don) without issue and handed it to the white student. Now, even more students were amazed.
"Next!"
"Jju-gge."
It was a word that was almost hard to hear, but the Korean student brought the item that most closely matched the pronunciation. It was none other than an 'eraser' (ji-u-gae). The Korean students wore expressions of 'Of course!', while the foreign students looked on in shock.
"Next!"
After that, for pencils, notebooks, and marbles, the Korean student retrieved every item perfectly, and the classroom was instantly plunged into a silence born of astonishment.
"Everyone, you saw it, right? This is called 'Hangul'. Hangul's pronunciation rules are remarkably consistent compared to other languages. Even if the pronunciation is slightly off, it's possible to bring the item that is closest to it. Just imagine it."
At the sudden command to imagine, the students didn't understand what they were supposed to picture. However, as the instructor's words continued rapidly, that imagination began to take shape.
"Let's think about it. You are out on a cold battlefield in Siberia. And an enemy appears in the distance. But oh no! You accidentally left your gun behind. So you asked your colleague next to you to bring you a 'Gun'."
The students, imagining themselves discovering an enemy in the bone-chilling cold, finished the scenario of their colleague bringing the weapon. But the instructor said something completely different.
"Oh, oh no! Your colleague next to you didn't bring a 'Gun', they brought 'Gum'. Thanks to that, you couldn't launch a preemptive strike on the enemies, and instead, you were attacked first and died?"
The Americans groaned, "Ugh!", fully immersed in the situation. The Soviet side was the same. Since they could basically handle a minimum level of English, they were able to immerse themselves significantly, if not as much as the Americans.
"Now, everyone. We are beings who can soothe each other's pain, transcending nationality, and become true comrades-in-arms. In such a situation, do you want your comrade to die because words were miscommunicated?"
Everyone shook their heads vigorously and shouted 'No' in their respective languages.
"Good. Since your hearts have become one, from today, you will learn 'Hangul'."
If he had just told them to learn Hangul, the American and Soviet personnel would have harbored resentment. But by showing them a clear example right in front of their eyes, the students all understood the reason why they had to learn it.
Choi Deok-bae looked on, clicking his tongue in admiration. This scene was not limited to this one classroom; it was content introduced in all 50 classrooms. Although the basic textbooks themselves weren't made by Yoon-gi, but by experts he hired, the story was that Yoon-gi had taught the instructors how to kick off the lessons. Even the first day of class had surprisingly high practical immersion.
"Everyone, in English, after you memorize the spelling, you have to memorize the words, right? The same goes for the Soviet side?" As the students nodded, the instructor smiled and said, "In Hangul, you only need to memorize 40 letters to read every single word!"
The beginning of the plan to make Korean the mother tongue for 3,000 people. Later, when they learned about homonyms that sounded the same but had different meanings, or dialects, they would shed tears of blood, but at least in this moment, they held hope for Hangul.
Mandatory daily Hangul education. However, this was not the only training they had to receive. They had to consistently undergo basic physical fitness training. Even if it wasn't military training yet, YK required a significant level of physical conditioning so that their physical abilities wouldn't decline while they were learning knowledge-based education.
The first group of recruits ranged from their early thirties to late forties. Even though it was difficult, most of them were performing the physical training as if their lives depended on it. However, there are always exceptions in the world. There were clearly people who, no matter how hard they tried, could not digest the required amount of training due to age or the aftereffects of war. That group consisted of about 20 people. Every day, they suffered while looking at their failed training scores.
And finally, an event occurred where they were all called to one place. Since the training itself was done in groups, the underperformers knew who the others were, so the moment they realized they had been gathered in one place, they intuited a sad ending.
[Ah... here too...]
But they had nothing to say. The place they were supposed to be employed was none other than a PMC. In a war zone where bullets flew, they had to fight for their lives, and someone with insufficient physical ability could never be welcomed.
[It must be unavoidable...]
In the end, they each prepared their hearts and waited for the escort to arrive. The escorts who would send them back to where they came from.
[Wait... we already obtained Soviet citizenship...]
The moment they thought this, the people from the United States fell into a near-panic. Because, even though the U.S. allows dual citizenship, one of the conditions for obtaining this Soviet citizenship was the renunciation of U.S. citizenship. The U.S. leadership did not want them returning to the U.S. to cause social problems again. They couldn't go back to the U.S., and if they stayed in the Soviet Union, they had absolutely no foundation. Thinking that they would be kicked out into the blizzard outside, some were even wetting their pants.
In that situation, when the door to the small conference room where they were gathered opened, they were so terrified they wet themselves until the front of their underwear was soaked. You could think of it as a level of fear equivalent to a Korean thinking they might be kidnapped to North Korea.
"I have news I must share with you." At the staff member's words, sighs erupted from all over the conference room. However, the staff member looked extremely puzzled.
"No, why is everyone acting like this?" At the Korean staff member's words, the Soviet interpreter and the American interpreter delivered the message almost simultaneously. Then, an American student sighed.
"Aren't you trying to kick us out because we don't meet the requirements?"
The staff member looked stunned. "No, what are you talking about? Why would we kick you out?"
Then the students' heads snapped up. "We aren't being kicked out?"
"Of course not. Because your physical abilities didn't meet the training requirements, we are going to give you two options. One is to be assigned to the advanced Hangul class and receive high-intensity Hangul education. If you pass this, you will become specialized administrative agents. Of course, you will continue to receive basic training, but your cutoff line will drop to less than half."
The students' complexions brightened significantly. Some were even shedding tears of relief.
"And for those of you who cannot adapt to this advanced class..." The students' complexions turned pale again.
"If you wish, you will be sent to a YK-affiliated factory construction site. However, you will receive treatment similar to that of the current Soviet people; room and board will be provided, and if you study Hangul personally, you will have the opportunity to apply for an administrative position again at any time in the future."
Only then did laughter and tears of relief erupt in the conference room.
"We thought we were being kicked out!" At the words of the white man laughing while shedding tears, the staff member gave a wry smile.
"No, why would Mr. Guster abandon you? As long as you show 'will' and 'effort', Mr. Guster and Chairman Choi Yoon-gi will never abandon you."
That day, the 20 people in the conference room conveyed the story of what they had experienced to all the other students. And they began to learn Hangul harder than anyone else. The other students were the same. Grateful for the grace of Guster and Yoon-gi, who provided alternatives even if they had shortcomings, they began to study with their very lives. Yoon-gi's PMC, which didn't even have a company name yet. Its foundation was truly as solid as a rock.
Choi Cheol-min, the second son of the Samwoo Group. Choi Cheol-min still hadn't been able to escape the construction sites of the Samwoo Group. He performed the assistant roles he had to do endlessly at the workers' cafeteria. However, compared to the past, his life had improved a little. Because his father, Choi Ki-hyun, had asked his other children to 'take care' of Choi Cheol-min a little, even though he hadn't spoken to Yoon-gi about it.
Therefore, Choi Cheol-min was able to live a life with earnings on the level of an average office worker, and thanks to that, he could finally breathe a little easier. Even though he didn't stop regretting his past day by day.
And Choi Cheol-min's son, Choi Jung-gi. Because his parents had done something the family could never forgive, Choi Jung-gi also had to lead a life on the level of a commoner. Accepting Choi Jung-gi could be seen as accepting Choi Cheol-min and Park Gyeong-ja, so the other relatives also kept their distance from Choi Jung-gi. Even Choi Ki-hyun.
But today, Choi Jung-gi appeared at his grandfather Choi Ki-hyun's house for the first time in a long while.
"No, what brings you here?" Choi Ki-hyun's surprised expression contained bewilderment, but it was also clearly mixed with a bitter look for his grandson who was living a difficult life.
'Should I give him some pocket money...?'
However, Choi Jung-gi hadn't come to his grandfather to receive pocket money.
"Ugh, hu, hu, hu, sob..."
At his grandson's sudden outburst of tears, Choi Ki-hyun, who had been watering the flowers in the yard, stopped and spoke to him. "Jung-gi, what's wrong? Why on earth are you crying?"
Finally, Choi Jung-gi stated the purpose of his visit. "Grandfather, please find my dad...!"