A seemingly unrelated Gomtaengi faces human malice head-on, while its mind is being eroded.
Shiyeon, commendably, sat at a low desk instead of in front of the computer and opened her bag.
The task I thought I wouldn’t have to do myself, the so-called homework.
“Mary, what is this?”
I looked at the page of the math book that Shiyeon handed over, asking what it was.
The problem presented was 5 minus 3.
I could have simply told her the answer, but that wouldn’t help a student whose mind is still developing.
“Open your left hand wide, how many did we say this was?”
“Five!”
“Then, let’s fold three away, how many do we have left?”
“Uh, um… two!”
“What did we say two was for?”
With the successfully conducted tailored education at eye level, the number 2 was drawn from the tip of the pen in a curvy line.
Elementary school studies are, after all, just common sense.
Up to this point, I could teach without difficulty by sticking close beside her.
“Well done, that’s the right answer!”
“Ehe.”
‘What a basic level of elementary school work….’
Thinking like that, I stuck close to Shiyeon for a moment, helping with hints to solve the rest of her homework.
The real problem starts from middle school.
From that point on, I remember none of the common-sense level teachings—nothing from middle school studies at all.
Things like Venn diagrams, probability, and statistics have their uses somewhere.
Even if I had to use them, I could ask one of the countless calculators on the internet.
‘Oh, I had that too?’
Seeing what Shiyeon was doing reminded me of my homework, and I pushed the keyboard aside, quickly finishing the homework.
I had completely forgotten about the homework that would have been enough to start writing as soon as I got to school.
Things like dictation or writing a few characters wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.
After quickly finishing the homework and enjoying some retro games, I wrapped things up by giving her space when Shiyeon finished and showing her an anime.
The next day on the way to school.
Cars cautiously passed along the narrow road in front of the school, which was designated as a children’s protection zone.
At that moment, the loud honk of a car sounded, followed closely by the laughter of children.
“Uhaha-!”
A narrow crosswalk without a signal.
Kids suddenly darted out in front of slowly moving cars, enjoying the thrill of passing right before them.
It was a trend among kids around third grade to play a dangerous game of dodging cars.
With the buff of the children’s protection zone, they were invulnerable primary school students.
The bad law that automatically blames drivers was being used by the kids.
Watching such things, I couldn’t help but throw my precious vote to the notion that humans are fundamentally evil.
‘Only after they get themselves hurt and break a bone or two will they realize.’
I muttered to myself, recalling the countless news articles I had seen on the internet not long ago.
Some mischievous little ones would purposely crash into slowly moving cars, demanding compensation at their age.
If they met a truly crazy driver, they wouldn’t survive; they were kids who didn’t know the value of their lives.
As I kicked my indoor shoe bag with all my might, I walked into the corridor through the gate beside the school.
As always, the central passage and staircase of the school seemed to be unavailable for students for some unknown reason.
Still not uncovering that reason, I walked to the classroom.
‘Ah, I want to go home.’
That thought came to me immediately upon sitting in my seat.
The school life of a first grader, learning common knowledge they already know.
Could there be another time so empty and meaningless?
After a little wait, the teacher’s two slaves.
Two kids fooled by the empty titles of class president and vice president entered the classroom with a plastic container full of milk cartons.
Familiar enough, I got up from my seat and grabbed a milk carton from the container placed at the front of the classroom before returning to my seat.
The cookie and chocolate stick I had stashed in the very front pocket of my bag for dipping into the milk.
I tore off one side of the milk carton, pulling it away to create a sharp edge, and twisted the stick with my thumb and index finger to open the tip.
“Hey, can I have some too?”
Seeing the powdered stick made the innocent beasts of malice begin to gather one by one.
Well, it’s true; it all leads to this.
“Why should I?”
Without tilting my head, I simply dumped a stick straight into my milk carton’s opening while saying that.
Kids are incredibly brazen.
Furthermore, this kid, who had come all the way to the front asking for a stick for the milk he’s going to drink.
A child who talks about tteokbokki using someone else’s name when bored, a spoiled and thoughtless little brat.
“I won’t tease you about being Kim Mal! Just give me one!”
Does he still think he’s in kindergarten, whining and clinging like that?
“Thanks!”
“Me too! Me too!”
As I began giving one to one kid, the others snuck closer, looking for their chance.
It was a pack of twenty sticks that would only cost about 4,000 won, cheap sugar powder.
“Here, eat it, you insolent and shameless little beasts.”
I thought controlling them with food was the best way.
I tossed the sticks I had tucked away in the front of my bag, letting them fly.
“Wooah!”
The kids, not even knowing the meaning of what they said, had only their eyes fixed on the sticks.
They greedily plucked out the sticks, almost like chopsticks stuck between their fingers.
Among them, I wondered if those little ones who were so excited about teasing me as ‘Kim Mal’ had independently learned manners.
It was the most absurd thing that they, without noticing, were the first to grab the treats.
Are they really neglected and independently learning manners?
A pure question circling through my mind.
I never said it out loud, so I wasn’t criticizing their parents.
‘Shameless little brats.’
After cursing them internally, I held the milk carton with both hands, shaking it vigorously to drink my share.
Not able to close tightly, milk started to spurt a little from the opened corner.
Holding onto the carton, the milk that squirted out slightly stained my thumb and index finger.
Licking that up, I tasted the faint chocolate milk flavor left on my tongue.
‘Not bad?’
Even if it wasn’t a strong chocolate milk flavor, this was still pretty good.
Far better than the artificially flavored strawberry or banana that felt overly sweet, this was much more to my liking.
It was just a tease, and I felt it was a bit lacking.
To finish, I opened the entrance of the carton that I had shaken well and downed it in one go.
The little granules felt like they were dancing between my teeth, crunchy and slightly sweet.
What stood out the most was the bottom of the milk carton.
There were almost no residues!
No matter how well you mixed it, something always remained clumped at the bottom of traditional flavors; in comparison, this was a remarkable result.
After the ceremony ended, there was a brief moment of leisure before class time arrived.
In fact, aside from the homework we had to do, there was no need to pay attention.
Still, there were classes that we had to participate in.
“Okay, everyone! Today, we’re going to draw a picture of ourselves having achieved our dreams!”
“Yeeees-!”
The classroom echoed with a sharp response that sounded like a collective scream.
High-pitched voices freshly free from infancy scraped against the ears like the edge of a blade.
“Ugh.”
Amidst the loud voices, one voice drained away.
The owner of that voice, what can I say?
Gripping a gray crayon, I looked at the blank sheet in dismay.
I might be holding a crayon for the first time in this life.
For the entire hour, I merely doodled something on the blank paper.
The kids bickered over trivial things like whose turn it was to use blue.
The teacher walked around the classroom, evaluating the drawings of kids who were really focused on theirs or stopping fights.
Seeing what I hadn’t even realized before be revealed, I now saw the struggles of the teachers.
Ah, teacher.
Now I understand that agony.
“Okay, friends who want to share, please come forward and tell us!”
After some time had passed, the teacher sought to pick a few presenters due to class time constraints.
Surely there wouldn’t be many who wanted to present, I thought…
“Me!”
“I want to do it!”
Countless hands from eager children went up. Some even raised both hands high.
It’s definitely the age for self-promotion.
“Alright, Hayan, why don’t you come up and share?”
“My dream is to be an excellent doctor! I will heal and create a world without sick people!”
Doctor, teacher, YouTuber, chef, police officer, pro gamer, magical girl, and even soldier.
Even if there was one weird choice in there, there weren’t as many unrealistic professions like president as I’d expected.
‘But there’s a soldier, huh?’
Tilted my head, thinking they are still kids and don’t know much.
But there’s no need to worry about that.
Even if they come to not want it later, they will certainly get the experience.
“Heh.”
A natural snort of laughter escaped me.
After all the kids who had raised their hands presented, the bell signaling break time still hadn’t rung.
Maybe due to that, it looked like the question was about to come bouncing back over here.
“Let’s see, who hasn’t presented yet…”
The teacher glanced around searching for anyone who hadn’t presented.
That included me.
Immediately avoiding the gaze of the teacher who was scanning around, I buried my face in the corner of the teacher’s desk.
But it was useless.
The teacher wouldn’t miss a kid with their head down.
“Mary, do you want to tell us what your dream is?”
‘Damn it.’
I thought I could pass without presenting, but the special nature of sitting in the front got me caught.
There was no helping it; I pulled my chair back and went next to the teacher’s desk, turning to show everyone the drawing I had done.
Not a single person drawn; just a lone apartment-like building.
A profession everyone in modern times longs for.
Finally, I had spoken it.
“My dream is to be a wealthy landlord.”
“Uh…?”
The teacher looked at me with a smile, but when she heard my first sentence, her expression froze as if time had stopped.
Slightly glancing at the teacher, I paused in silence for a moment, then continued what I had interrupted.
“With this dream, I could just lie down in my room every day and order my favorite delivery food, and money would automatically flow into my bank account—a true rich person possessing both time and money….”
“Okay, that’s enough! Great job presenting!”
Once I got about halfway through, the teacher showed visible distress and hurriedly stopped me from presenting.
I was just getting started.
