I,A Gangster, Became a High School Student

After leaving the café, the man crossed the same crosswalk as Kim Deuk-pal. Thinking they were headed in the same direction, he followed him to the front door of the hospital and asked,

‘Why is the student following me?’

“Why are you following me?” he asked.

“I’m also on my way to Central Hospital, Byeongmun-an.”

‘How did he know I was going to Central Hospital? I frowned, a wary glint in my eye, and the man pointed to a padded patient suit. ‘

The padding on the forearm shoulder that had been hit by the ringer was just enough to read the hospital name on the shirt. Embarrassed, Kim meekly pushed the ringer around and crossed the hospital’s driveway first.

The man behind him saw that the ringer’s wheels were caught on the sidewalk and carried it without asking. Kim was impressed.

It was always felt that the kid was really young. He mistakenly thought he was in middle school. However Kim Deuk-pal wondered if he’d recommend a problem book at the beginning, or if he’d bring adult beverages even though he didn’t, or if he was studying well by the way he talked, or if his face was… like a parasitic orabi, but he looked like he made women fall in love with him, and he was tall, so his back was fine.

How proud his parents would be if they had a son like him. He can’t spoil a dog, Kim Deuk-pal said, and he used age-appropriate caution.

“His parents would be full even if he didn’t eat.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while. Do you live with your grandfather? You’re young, but so old.”

The man couldn’t hold it any longer and laughed out loud. I thought his mouth was twisted earlier, but he held back his laughter. Kim Duk-pal realized he had acted like an old man and stroked his neck nape. When he noticed that Song Yiheon’s earlobes were unusually red from the cold wind, he bent down to meet her gaze. His fine hair swayed slightly as he bowed.

“You sound like a Tanaka, not a student.”

“Student, what do you call it? I don’t even know your name.”

The boy teased him with a wink, and Kim Duk-pal scowled. His fists clenched as he hesitated to punch the guy, who was less than a fist.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me your name. I’m Choi.”

“Se-kyung!”

A woman wandering out of a hospital lobby spotted a man and called out to him. Choi se-kyung The man responded to the sound of his name being called with a wave of his hand and was greeted with eyes that folded into half moons until the very end.

“I have to go. It’s late. Good luck with your studies.”

He shoved the shopping bag he’d carried from the cafe into Kim’s hands and ran to the front door where the woman was waiting. His long legs stretched out from under his unbuttoned coat’s flapping hem. For a moment, he stood there and watched her and Choi Se-kyung enter the hospital’s revolving door, and then he scratched his head.

“The boys are splitting up…….”

How many times had he smirked in that short period of time? With the premonition that his savage smirk would linger in his mind? Kim Duk-pal pushed the ringer.

As he exerted himself, a dull pain shot through his ribs. He looked down at the source of the pain and saw the shopping bag in his hand. It contained a stack of problem books from the bookstore. He realized that he hadn’t brought the problem books out of the cafe with him when he bought them. Choi Se-kyung brought it for him. He thought Se-kyung was crazy for holding his hand before leaving, but Se-kyung handed it over so it wouldn’t be too heavy.

He couldn’t see him in the crowd of people coming and going from the lobby to thank him for carrying his luggage for him. Eventually, Kim Duk-pal put the shopping bag on the ringer handle and organized Choi Se-kyung, whispering to himself.

“Good boy.”

He couldn’t match that Choi Se-kyung to the one in the diary.

***

The winding back alley in Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-gu, was followed by rural houses with high walls, unlike the boulevard lined with shopping malls and bars. It was a convenient neighborhood to hide a chairman’s government, as the saying says. The disconnection from the neighborhood was an implicit rule, and the lamp base is dark.

Since people who live in this neighborhood have many secrets, employees in this neighborhood also chose quiet and passive people.

It helped to know that the Seosan family, who got a job in this mansion, also had a heavy mouth, which ended up being decisive. Forget what you saw in this mansion, and don’t speak out. Don’t get involved with the people who live in the mansion. Just do what you’re told and do the housework.

The Seosan family followed the contract’s terms.

They recognized that the woman living in the mansion was an attractive actress who heated up the media and disappeared more than 20 years ago. However, they pretended not to know, and even when the woman’s son returned home with a shoe mark on his body, he did not ask.

Besides being a perfect stranger, Seosan’s house also served as a perfect observer for them as well. And Seosan House sensed a new change as an observer.

Song Yi-heon, the family’s son. Always walks with his head down and his long bangs hide his face.

When Seo Sandaek heard he had been in a car accident last year, she packed his bags for the hospital. This was ordered by the deacon. He was seriously injured and hospitalized last year, but when he returned home for the upcoming semester, he was different.

At least Seo Sandaek had worked in the house for ten years and recognized the shaved head. However, if it was anyone else, she wondered if he had been switched in the middle.

The original Song Yi-heon was weak. It would have been better if he was blunt, but he had a sensitive temperament and recognized things. He knew his mother hated him, and every time she visited the chairman drunk, she got a stomach ache from the stress.

When she got better, her mouth became shorter. She reluctantly picked up her chopsticks whenever she had a meal with the chairman who visited the mansion. The tiger-like chairman asked if that weakling was his blood and kicked him out of the room. His mother begged him to stay longer, and Song Yi-heon was so exhausted that he spent the whole night eating on empty stomachs.

A bean powder family that wouldn’t make a weekend soap opera. The weakest member of the family. Song Yi-heon was such a child. At least in the eyes of Seo Sandak, who worked in the mansion for nearly a decade.

Waking up at dawn to exercise and eat gobbledygook was not something Song Yi-heon Seo knew.

His habit of eating three grains of rice while cracking his knuckles was gone, and he was happy to eat it with a spoon. At dawn, he left before Seo Sandaek could get to work. He came back sweating profusely, gobbling up rice to satisfy his appetite.

“More rice, please.”

Seo San-daek, who looked at Song Yi-heon curiously, took the empty rice ball from him.

“Uh, okay. Do you want me to grill more fish? And soup?”

“No thanks.”

The cool answer was also a change. The next day, after leaving the hospital, Song Yi-heon walked to the gym, glanced at the empty table, and demanded breakfast. The original Song Yi-heon, who was too shy to ask for anything, demanded it as if it was a matter of course and easily refused.

 Seo Sandaek noticed his overbearing attitude.

Before, she would just serve him a meal and go to the kitchen, regardless of whether he ate it or not. However, now she set the table by putting out more side dishes and a glass of water. As she wiped her hands dry on her apron, she remembered that today was the first day of Song Yi-heon’s upcoming semester.

Laundry and ironing were her duties, but she never cared for Song Yihe’s school uniform. The original Song Yi-heon would have worn it without fuss, but the altered Song Yi-heon would not hide his displeasure with the wrinkles. Seo Sandaek hastily pulled on her house shoes, not wanting to offend her young master

***

The luxury sedan pulled out of the alley and onto the main street. Driving in Seoul’s traffic can be rough, and the driver was careful not to sway the car. His nervous gaze flickered in the rearview mirror.

The boy in the back seat was relaxed, cross-legged, and fiddling with his phone. Who would recognize him as the same sullen Song Yi-heon who used to keep his head down?

“What are you looking at?”

‘I thought he was distracted by his phone, but he must have felt my gaze, because he spoke in a low voice.’

He’s obviously ten years younger than the driver, but he’s so naturally flirtatious that Mr. Park is stunned.

“Oh, nothing.”

Realizing he had been rude to the younger man, Kim Duk-pal scratched his head and apologized.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Hearing the apology, which reeked of middle age, the driver pulled into an alley near Song Yi-heon’s high school. However, when Song Yi-heon didn’t bother to get out and instead tapped on his newly opened phone, the uncomfortable driver was left alone.

“Sir, why are you not leaving?”

“Here?”

Kim Deuk-pal finally took his eyes off his phone and looked out the window. Outside the alley, he could see students wearing the same uniform as Song Yiheon walking uphill.

“You said you didn’t want to get off in front of the school, but you always get off here.”

“Why walk uphill? Don’t bother. Get to the front of the school.”

The driver was about the same age as the henchman he used to have as a gangster, Kim Deuk-pal, so he added a half-word.

“C’mon.”

The gleaming luxury sedan stopped in front of the school gates. It was a rich town, but high school equalization meant not all students came from chaebol families. The rare foreign car drew the attention of kids on their way to school.

The back seat opened, and Bajidan climbed out, his ankles exposing his chubby peach bones. On their way to school, the current students saw their classmate getting out of the car and passed by with similar thoughts in mind.

“Come pick me up when I call…”

Kim Deuk-pal stammered out a half-hearted reply and slammed the car door. Leaving the sedan fumes behind, he stifled the urge to scream and faced the school gates. He saw the folded green iron gate. A school, a school gate, a student!

The golden age of my life is here again!

Even though I intervened in someone else’s life, I was overwhelmed by the fact that I immediately put on my uniform and returned to school. Jung Joon-ho, who starred in Doo Sabu Ilchee, was in his thirties at the time. At forty-seven, he thought that if he tried on a school uniform, he would be called an old man, so he would not contact school uniforms in his life!’

Kim Duk-pal steadied his breathing, which was about to become ragged with emotion, and gripped the strap of his bag.

Song Yi-heon, now in full uniform, was nervous, even though he knew he had nothing to lose. The school gate was guarded by grade prefects and life guidance students. His poor imagination ran wild, wondering if an old man like you would dare come in and be thrown out.

The sound of his heart beating reached his ears. Trying to blend in with the other students, he stretched carefully, step by step. His newly purchased sneakers scratched the skin on his ankles. His iron pencil case rattled in his backpack, which contained only exercise books for the first day.

‘I blended into the crowd of students as I walked through the gates. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I had made it through the gates safely, when a harpoon-like call pierced my heart.’

“Hey, there! You!”

Kim, who had stopped in his tracks with his upper body stretched out in front of him, eager to get through the gate, pointed awkwardly.

“Me?”

“Yes, you are. You. There’s someone else here besides you.”

That’s a lot of people…. Kim Deuk-pal couldn’t help but notice Hak-joo’s odd way of speaking, and was drawn to his ticking index finger. Hak-joo pointed a 30-centimeter ruler at Kim’s pectoralis major. Kim’s eyebrows furrowed.