The Silver Spoon (1)
It wasn't just any professor. It was the Dean of the Department of Business Administration at Seoul National University! Honestly, one could just brush it off as a coincidence, but Yoon-gi hardened his thoughts toward the possibility that this was no mere accident. When you target someone, you have to account for every single possibility. It is a common experience in this world for things to go wrong simply because someone overlooked a detail, only for that very detail to become the source of the problem.
That was why Yoon-gi checked Kim Son-hwan’s high school academic records. "Flashy, aren't they?" They weren't all perfect scores, but Kim Son-hwan had ranked first in his entire school throughout high school. "The difference isn't huge, but it’s still higher than Seo Gyu-young’s. Well, if Won-hee’s words are anything to go by, Kim Son-hwan wouldn't have been able to stand having a lower score than Seo Gyu-young."
Thinking this far, Yoon-gi came up with a hypothesis. "If someone knew about this personality of Kim Son-hwan’s, and if they had a deep connection to him, they would have stepped in to solve that little problem, wouldn't they?"
While he was at it, Yoon-gi checked Kim Son-hwan’s elementary and middle school records as well. "Oh?" Usually, a student who ranks first in the entire school in high school has been ranking first since elementary and middle school. There are rare exceptions where someone plays around in the middle or lower ranks during their younger years and then suddenly hits first place, but those are extreme outliers. However, Kim Son-hwan’s middle school grades weren't as perfect compared to his high school ones. "Second in his class during middle school?" Seo Gyu-young had been fourth in his class. And in elementary school, it was even lower. "Kim Son-hwan was 6th in his class, and Seo Gyu-young was 12th."
There was a clear pattern. "Kim Son-hwan had better grades than Seo Gyu-young for all twelve years. Is this a coincidence, or is it artificial manipulation?"
Yoon-gi requested additional data from Im Chan-chan’s group through Choi Chul-kyu: the property registration records of the teachers who had taught Kim Son-hwan, along with their salary histories. A certain situation soon came to light. There was a noticeable volatility in the property registration records of the homeroom teachers, the grade heads, and even the principals.
In those days, teachers' salaries were rock bottom. Back in the 60s, a teacher’s monthly salary wasn't even enough to buy a decent bicycle, which is why teachers often secretly took on private tutoring jobs. The 80s weren't much different. Even in the 2010s, someone with 30 years of teaching experience only made about 5 to 6 million won. No matter how cheap housing was—though it was starting to show signs of rising—it was nearly impossible for teachers in the 70s and 80s to purchase the kind of homes these individuals had acquired.
People in that era, when they came into money, the first thing they did was buy a "house." Yet, these teachers had moved into large houses despite having no legitimate source of income.
"Well, then, there’s another thing to investigate." This time, Yoon-gi checked if any of those teachers had wealthy relatives or someone who had succeeded through business investments. Strangely, such people were few and far between. In that case, there was only one answer. "They manipulated it."
Seo Gyu-young must have studied while gritting his teeth. But listening to Won-hee, Kim Son-hwan didn't seem to have that same desperation. Of course, Kim Son-hwan had some natural intelligence, and coming from a wealthy family, he would have received intensive private tutoring. He definitely had a strong foundation. But to have higher grades than Seo Gyu-young, always, and only by a "slight" margin for twelve years straight? That suggested the "possibility" of external intervention.
"Of course, high school internal grades mean absolutely nothing for university admissions." In the 2010s, more people get into college through non-standardized test methods, including internal grades, than through the regular entrance exam. But in the 80s, you had to get into college through the academic achievement test, so the weight of internal grades was virtually zero.
"That’s why I think Kim Son-hwan has basic intelligence. But, as it happens, last year’s entrance exam was quite interesting, wasn't it?"
The "interesting" thing Yoon-gi was referring to was the "essay exam." While essays are common in the 2010s, they weren't in the 80s. They didn't exist at all. But for exactly two years in the 80s, there was an essay component, and one of those years was the year Yoon-gi took the entrance exam. And the essay portion accounted for a whopping 10 percent of the total score.
"Let’s see..." Yoon-gi pulled out the university placement chart he had tucked into his desk organizer.
[299 points - Seoul National University, Department of Business Administration]
Newspaper articles estimated that for the humanities track, a score of 299 out of 340 on the academic achievement test was enough to apply to the SNU Department of Business Administration. The top tier was, of course, the Department of Law, where Yoon-gi was enrolled, at 307 points.
"Let’s see... since the essay exam was 10 percent, if we make the academic test out of 90 points..." If the academic test was scaled to 90 points, one needed 79.1 points to get into the SNU Business Department. And since placement charts basically assume that students receive a "similar level" on the essay as they do on the academic test, it could be estimated that SNU Business students received 7.91 out of 10 on the essay. Therefore, the "estimated final cutoff" for SNU Business students at the time was 87.01 points.
Then what about Kim Son-hwan? Assuming he got a perfect score on the essay, he would be 2.09 points ahead of others, meaning he only needed 77.01 points on the academic test. Converted back to the 340-point scale, that’s 291.1 points. With that score, one could apply to the SNU Department of Education, the Korea University Department of Korean Literature, or the Yonsei University Department of Law. While it still falls within the same "top-tier" universities, the salaries of "non-university" educators in those days were truly miserable. Furthermore, as competition at the top tier intensified, it was common for a single question to change the university one could attend, so this was by no means a situation to be taken lightly.
Moreover, this calculation was based on averages. In reality, there were definitely students who did well on the academic test but failed the essay, so there was a clear possibility that he had gained even more of an advantage.
"Alright, the puzzle pieces of deduction are complete. Now, it’s time to catch the physical evidence..." Yoon-gi smiled, thinking he would need to meet with the President of Seoul National University.
"Hm? You want to see the essay answer sheets from last year’s Business Administration entrance exam?"
The President’s office at Seoul National University. The President and a university student were naturally drinking tea. Honestly, it was a situation that was incredibly hard to imagine. A Dean might be able to have such a meeting if they were a top-performing student, but for a mere student to have such a seat with the President was truly difficult. Even more so in the 80s. But Yoon-gi was able to do it.
"Yes. There’s one thing I’ve come to verify."
"What is it?"
Yoon-gi handed a report to the President. It was a report neatly printed with a computer and printer. As the late 80s approached, Yoon-gi was slowly entering a life of "familiar civilization." Of course, there was still a lot of waiting to be done.
"Kim Son-hwan...? Ah, the son of Gyeongwan Construction was a student at our school."
Since he had never met him personally, the President realized who Kim Son-hwan was based on the contents of the report. "Wait, the Dean of the Business Department is the brother of the CEO of Gyeongwan Construction?" Since the President couldn't possibly be unaware of the Dean’s background, he immediately grasped the relationship between Kim Son-hwan and the Dean.
"...So, you are saying the Dean of the Business Department leaked the essay exam questions for his nephew. Is that it?"
"To be precise, it wouldn't be a leak to an unspecified number of people, but rather a 'delivery'."
The President’s brow furrowed like ripples on a stream. "This isn't a matter that can be investigated based on mere suspicion. The aftermath..."
"I will take full responsibility. If my guess is wrong, I will drop out of the university and pay sufficient damages. I don't mind being expelled, either."
"N-no! That won't do! That’s out of the question!"
The President shook his head vigorously. Given how much Yoon-gi was contributing to Seoul National University, the idea of him dropping out was absurd. Expulsion was obviously out of the question, and dropping out wasn't even a matter to consider. However, it wasn't easy to touch the honor of the Dean of the Business Department, either.
"Mr. President."
"Y-yes?"
Yoon-gi whispered, almost as if he were letting him in on a secret. "Don't worry too much. Who gives you, the President, a greater benefit?"
In the end, the President took Yoon-gi’s side.
Basically, exam answer sheets are required to be kept for a certain period. And that period is much, much longer than one might think. Even school report cards are often kept for 50 years. Of course, the retention period for exam answer sheets might be shorter than for report cards, but since the exams were taken only last year, there was no way they had already been shredded, so obtaining Kim Son-hwan’s answer sheet wasn't procedurally difficult. Although, there could be issues outside of the procedure.
"P-President! W-what on earth are you trying to do right now?"
It was the flustered voice of Kim Chang-yoon, the Dean of the Business Department. He had come running the moment the news broke that Yoon-gi and the President were looking for last year’s essay answer sheets.
"Why, you. How did you know to come here?"
To the President’s words, Kim Chang-yoon spoke urgently, even while catching his breath. "T-that is n-not the i-important thing right now, is it?"
After catching his breath, Kim Chang-yoon spoke in a somewhat more stable voice. "Why on earth are you suddenly asking to see the Business Department’s essay answer sheets?"
A side-parted hairstyle slicked with pomade. A mole the size of a 1-won coin next to his eye. Round, rimless glasses. He looked more like a neat office worker than a professor, but the glasses betrayed the fact that he spent a lot of time reading books in dark rooms.
"I can look at them if I want, what’s the problem?"
The President decided to just put on a brave face. It might have been different before he made up his mind, but once he had, he had to act decisively. The President was a man who clearly understood that.
"Excuse me? No, that’s..."
"I just have something to verify, so don't worry about it."
The President drew a firm line. And this was also part of Yoon-gi’s plan. If the President had called Kim Chang-yoon and told him to bring the materials, there was a possibility the answer sheets would have been "lost." But because the President had come to the archives himself, it stopped at the level of the staff under Kim Chang-yoon’s influence reporting it to him. Thanks to this, the answer sheets safely landed in the President’s hands.
"Ah, that’s right."
As if he had just remembered something, the President used the copier in the corner of the archives to print all the answer sheets, including Kim Son-hwan’s. Then, he put the originals into a safe in the corner of the archives and locked it.
"Should we perhaps post a guard as well?"
"That would be for the best."
If there were a fire in the archives, even a safe might not be enough. That was why the President went as far as to station 24-hour guards by the safe.
"As for the essay portion, it will take a considerable amount of time to verify what you’re curious about. At the very least, it will take ten days... or more. We have to check for 'similarities.' It might be boring, but please wait with some patience."
"I understand."
Yoon-gi nodded as if he were fully convinced by the President’s reasoned deadline. And Kim Chang-yoon, who had been watching this scene, judged that there was nothing he could do in this situation, so he bid the President farewell and scurried outside.
"My nephew has finally dropped a torch on his own feet!!"
It wasn't just a candle. It was as if he had doused his own feet in kerosene and dropped a torch on them. But even at this moment, Kim Son-hwan was busy enjoying his life, flicking the back of Seo Gyu-young’s head.