Chap 3
First morning

At dawn the next day, I woke up on my own without the sound of a loud alarm. It was the biological clock of a fifty-year-old middle-aged person, ingrained in my body over the past thirty years. Outside the window, the sky was still a bluish hue where the darkness had not yet fully lifted.

My nineteen-year-old body felt as heavy as a thousand pounds and cried out to sleep more, but my fifty-three-year-old mind resolutely pulled me up.

Dragging my creaking body, I did some simple stretches. It was astonishing.

Just a few days ago, I had been groaning in pain in my lower back and shoulders every morning, but now, far from feeling pain, my body was filled with overflowing energy. My joints rotated flexibly with even the slightest movement, and as I took a deep breath, I felt fresh air filling deep into my lungs. This was youth. To know the value of something painfully precisely because it has been lost. I vowed not to waste this physical body, my greatest asset.

After washing my face with cold water, I stood in front of the small sink that hardly deserved to be called a kitchen. My eyes fell on the pile of comic books I had tied up last night. Next to them were the packets of ramen that were always lying around haphazardly. In the past, my daily routine was to skip breakfast or, if I was lucky, just make do with soggy, overcooked ramen.

Your body is your asset. You have to eat well to fight well.

I put water on a pot and cooked a packet of ramen.

But I didn’t just cook it. I took out some green onions that were drying out in the corner of my dorm refrigerator, chopped them finely, and added them. Then, I carefully whisked in an egg I had bought with my meager allowance.

Sitting cross-legged at the table, I ate the steaming bowl of ramen slowly and gratefully. For the first time in thirty years, it was a breakfast I had prepared solely for myself
Everything felt new on the way to school, dressed in my uniform.

The clear morning air of Mungyeong, the fresh laughter of students heading to school, and the old shops along the roadside. Every scene came back to life not as a black-and-white photograph from the depths of memory, but as a vivid, full-color image, stimulating my senses.

As I entered the classroom, several children glanced at me, perhaps due to the commotion from yesterday. I sat down as if nothing had happened, took the Standard Math textbook out of my bag, and opened it. Twenty minutes remained until the first period began. To me, it was precious time.

“Hey, Kim Min-jun. Are you crazy? Why is *Standard Math first thing in the morning?”

My best friend Cheol-ho came over, tapped me on the shoulder, and asked. Like me, Cheol-ho was a friend who had no interest in studying and spent his youth at arcades and billiard halls.

Trying to get my act together.

When I answered without taking my eyes off the book, Cheol- ho let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.

“Hey, what difference does it make if you get your act together 100 days before the deadline? Let’s just graduate quietly. Who wants to go play that new fighting game tonight?”

If it were the me of the past, I would not have hesitated for a single second at that temptation. But the me of today was different. I closed the book and looked straight at Cheol-ho.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can play around like that starting today.” “What?” “I… I’ve found a university I want to go to.”

At my firm answer, the expressions of not only Cheol-ho but also the friends watching us from the sidelines hardened. Their eyes were a mixture of mockery-“You think you are?” and a sense of unfamiliarity toward a friend who was choosing a path different from theirs. I’did not avert my gaze. This was my first declaration of separation. A break from the lazy me of the past, and from the complacent world that had surrounded me.

That day, I did not doze off even once during class. I tried my best not to miss a single word the teacher said. Listening to the lesson again with the comprehension of a person in their 50s, it
was surprisingly clear. Concepts that used to sound like alien language began to be systematically organized in my mind.

As soon as school ended, I headed to the library. In the reference book section, I looked for EBS textbooks and the latest CSAT past exam question sets to analyze the current trends in the exam. Then, I returned to my rented room and took out a sheet of A4 paper.

[D-100, Battle Plan for Seoul National University]

First, I objectively assessed my current state. In the Language and Foreign Language sections, thanks to the reading comprehension and vocabulary of someone in their 50s, I could enter the top tier if I just regained my touch a little. The problem was the Math and Science sections. It was practically a blank slate.

I divided the 100 days into ’10-day intervals. The first 30 days were dedicated to rebuilding the basic concepts of all subjects using only EBS materials and textbooks. The next 30 days were for analyzing past exam questions by type to target my weaknesses.

Finally, I designated the last 40 days as a period to practice time management and adapt to the most difficult questions by repeatedly taking mock exams.

Waking up at 5 AM, going to bed at 2 AM. Excluding meal and travel times, every moment was divided into 10-minute intervals and packed tightly into the schedule. It was an almost murderous schedule, nearly impossible for a human to handle.

As I finished the schedule, I let out a hollow laugh. Could I really do this in this condition? I opened my diary and quietly called out my wife’s name.

Seoyeon, I miss you.

And I picked up the pen again. Only when I win this terrible battle will I be worthy of meeting you again. I wrote this in red pen at the very top of the schedule.

Let’s sleep when we’re dead.