The children’s eyes were filled with determination. It wasn’t like they were heading off to war, but the atmosphere had suddenly shifted because of a single test, and it was hard to adjust. Just a moment ago, the noisy chatter had all been a lie, it seemed.
These kids had just entered the 3rd grade—literally just yesterday they were 2nd graders—but the passion for education in South Korea was intense. Who would’ve thought these bright, promising kids could radiate such intensity? Even a martial arts competition to select the next prodigy wouldn’t be this intense.
[Ah… ah… We will now begin the 3rd-grade exam at Starlight Elementary School.]
The announcement echoed through the broadcast, signaling the start of the exam. It seemed like each grade was connected to the broadcast.
The test papers were handed out, and the children began to focus. The only sound in the classroom was the rustling of papers being flipped. Unless you were taking the TOEIC or some other certification exam, you wouldn’t experience this kind of atmosphere again. Being on the test-taker’s side now felt oddly surreal.
On the first page was a cover, boldly decorated with the words “Starlight Elementary School, 3rd Grade” in a large, blocky font. The test paper consisted of 10 pages in total. It felt thick, probably because it included both Korean and English sections. Still, the questions were short-answer, so it wasn’t too bad. If it had included literature, it might’ve easily stretched to 20 pages. After all, a single Korean reading passage could take up half a page.
Anyway, I picked up my pen and started with the first math problem. The first question on the first page was always designed to boost the kids’ confidence—something you could solve just by looking at it.
It was like the famous saying: “I’ll accept a 97 in math, but a 98? What kind of being are you?!” From the perspective of a studious student, getting a 2-point question wrong was harder than getting a 3-point question wrong.
I carefully examined the first multiple-choice question. I planned to tackle math first.
[If there are 7 bags, each containing 30 candies, how many candies are there in total?]
It was a simple multiplication problem. If you asked a college student, they’d probably answer in 3 seconds. It was the kind of problem where not being able to solve it would be strange.
“7 bags, so 210 candies…”
What was I even expecting from a 3rd-grade problem? I didn’t even write out the steps—I just solved it in my head and wrote the answer on the card. Lately, my brain felt sharper, and I was breezing through the problems without a hitch.
[Which of the following has the smallest result?]
There were three-digit numbers listed. This was also a problem you could solve mentally. I glanced around and saw the kids struggling, furrowing their brows as they worked through the problems.
I suddenly felt like the protagonist of a reincarnation story. Maybe the title would be something like “The Protagonist Returns as an Elementary School Student, Hiding Their Power” or “A Child Hiding Their Strength.”
I finished the math section in about 20 minutes and then turned my attention to the Korean and English sections. These were also simple problems that could be solved at a glance. My brain hadn’t rusted yet.
I chuckled to myself as I worked through the questions.
—
Ding-ding-ding!
“Hands up! I’m collecting the cards now!”
The teacher announced as she went around collecting the cards herself. Since there weren’t many students, it didn’t take long. Back in my day, the kid sitting at the back would collect the test papers.
After the teacher collected the OMR cards with the answers and left, the classroom turned into chaos. Everyone was comparing their answers with the top students.
The kids who were average at studying were arguing like Greek philosophers, each insisting their answer was correct. The kids who didn’t care much about studying were checking if their guesses matched the answers of the top students. It was the usual scene after an exam.
I couldn’t help but join in. Jiyu and Yumi came over to my desk with their test papers.
“Hana… are you okay?”
“Huh? Why?”
I had finished all the problems, but Yumi was speaking in a tone that sounded like she was comforting me. Did something go wrong?
“Well… I wasn’t trying to look, but you were lying on your desk within an hour…”
Ah. I had finished the test in less than an hour. I wondered what to do with the remaining hour, but there was only one thing to do during an exam.
I just lay down on the desk and slept.
Yumi must’ve misunderstood. From the perspective of elementary school students, this level of difficulty would require a full 2 hours to comfortably solve all the problems.
“Hana, you finished the problems and guessed the rest, right?”
“No, Yumi?”
Next to her, Jiyu spoke with an unbiased gaze, giving a reasonable explanation. As expected of Jiyu.
“Still, if you do well on the next test, it’ll be fine. Our school has so many tests that failing one won’t ruin everything!”
“I also ran out of time halfway through and had to guess the last page’s questions!”
“Huh? No, I solved all the problems.”
I corrected the children’s mistaken thoughts. Even so, these were third-grade Elementary School problems—there was no way they had to guess. If I were in their shoes, the problems might have been a bit challenging, but I had already completed university-level studies.
To Jiyu and Yumi, I was an unimaginably ancient fossil. To these elementary schoolers, I was probably like an ammonite to modern humans.
“You solved all those problems in just an hour? I was seriously short on time… I had to guess the last five English questions!”
“Did you really solve them, Hana?”
They looked at me with doubtful eyes, so I picked up the test paper.
“Maybe if we compare, we’ll find out?”
“Hmm…”
On the desk were Jiyu’s, mine, and Yumi’s test papers. Mine and Jiyu’s papers were clean with no solving process, while Yumi’s was covered in writing. Jiyu probably didn’t care much about studying. Or maybe she was like me—an adult who became a kid again.
“The test was so hard for me…”
Jiyu said that while subtly trying to pull her test paper away. She seemed to lack confidence. But Yumi stopped her.
“Jiyu! Did you skip studying and read some weird book again?”
“N-no!”
But as Yumi’s glare focused on Jiyu, she lowered her head and admitted.
“I… I read a little, really!”
“Sigh.”
Yumi let out a deep sigh. It seemed Jiyu was heading down a strange path.
“I was okay with Korean and English, but math was hard! It was probably the hardest ever, right?”
Yumi seemed to have excellent linguistic skills. There were only one or two questions in Korean and English that were iffy. If even I found them iffy, they must have been incredibly difficult for these third-graders.
But math was a breeze for me, probably because of my accumulated knowledge. Even though I hadn’t studied recently, the skills I learned from Haru and Bora before hadn’t faded. The problems were much easier than what they had taught me.
“By the way, did you really solve it in just an hour?”
“Yeah, want to see?”
I showed them my test paper. Seeing my blank paper, they looked skeptical. Solving problems of this level mentally probably didn’t suit someone of this age.
“Hana, did you solve this too? It was so hard, I couldn’t do it.”
Yumi pointed to the last math problem with her finger. Jiyu looked clueless. Jiyu seemed like a kid who had built a wall between herself and studying.
I calmly replied.
“Yeah. Want me to teach you how to solve it?”
At that, Yumi nodded.
“Okay, the way to solve this problem is…”
I explained in detail, writing down the math formulas as I taught. Math problems that seemed impossible at first glance could be solved by substituting values into the formulas.
The tricky part was twisting the questions mathematically, but once you wrote them down as formulas, they became simple.
“Wow… you really solved it… Hana, are you a genius?”
“I’m not a genius…”
Yumi was amazed, while Jiyu fidgeted nervously. Jiyu probably got stuck from question one, not just the last problem.
If I joined a gifted class at this age, I’d probably show a remarkable difference in grades. But in half a year, the gifted kids would catch up, and I’d end up with mediocre grades. I wasn’t a real genius—I just had an unfair cheat code.
