Chapter 141 < Latecomer. (3) >
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Translator: thursdays Editor: Yahiko PR: LightBrin
★.
Therefore.
Let us talk about my defeat.
The position of the protagonist.
It is the first time I, who had only played the hero’s role, became a villain who had to be knocked down.
I had never tolerated a defeat thus far.
Any defeat would have been disastrous.
If I had been defeated, all of Harlem would have been burned to the ground.[1] My defeat meant the fall of the empire. My defeat meant the end of the land of rivers and lakes. And it meant… My defeat meant…
Now, for the first time, my defeat wouldn’t lead to devastation.
This is the story of my downfall.
It is a story that would only end when ‘I’ am defeated.
[Currently, your immersion rate is 100%.]
My consciousness.
But ‘I’ am strong.
‘I’ am a manipulative and shrewd person.
I don’t know how you all will remember your school days. Were you happy? Did you enjoy yourself? The cla.s.sroom, which was small enough to be painted with the excuse of the ignorance of childhood. Are the scenes that occurred there colored with a beautiful sepia filter?
It isn’t for ‘me.’
‘I’ am a little more subtle than you guys. I am cunning. Maybe there was n.o.body like me in your school. Or maybe, you simply don’t remember. But ‘I’ was definitely here.
A person who framed his cla.s.smate.
A person who has plotted and manipulated evidence to slander someone.
A person who intimidated cla.s.smates to keep them quiet.
If you share these memories, ‘you’ must be my colleague. ‘You,’ at least, will fathom my existence, and if I’m lucky, you’ll even understand.
That’s right. While the other students were defenselessly playing in their childhood, their so-called [school days], ‘we’ easily hunted those foolish minnows.
Our hunting was furtive.
That’s why people don’t remember.
Most people understand our skillfully hidden hunts the wrong way. Students are too [immature]; they’re not smart enough for high-level hunting.
Not smart enough? Who? ‘Us’? What a ridiculous delusion.
They can’t even remember what happened under their very noses.
I’ll first confess to those people the secret method to hunting.
This is a story that happened before ‘I’ became possessed.
“There are two ways a student’s rank is decided at school. First, there are the students who study well. But you have to work hard to get good grades. Students hate working hard more than anything.”
On the other hand…
“It is easy to ignore or laugh at others.”
It took no effort.
“Since mocking someone is effortless, any student can join in. This is the crucial difference between [study] and [ridicule]. What’s the difference? Just a matter of how many students can easily partic.i.p.ate.”
You had to study for 10 minutes to raise your score by 1 on an exam, but it took less than 10 seconds to tease someone.
“It’s much more fun to be [better at making fun of others] than it is to be [better at studying]. It’s much easier. Accordingly, it is much more powerful. Unlike studying, anyone can handily jump into the game. That is why [ridicule] is standard at all schools.”
Here are the mechanics of bullying.
“First, the victim has to be conspicuous.”
Are they noticeably richer than the other kids? Or noticeably poorer? Do they have a face that anyone would say is weird? Does it smell strange when they pa.s.s by? Is their speech severely incoherent? Are they overly sincere? All of that is good. The particulars don’t matter.
Ridiculing is powerful because it’s easy.
The victim of the ridicule must be easy to make fun of.
“Kim Yul.”
There is a good reason why Kim Yul was selected as the prey of the hunt.
“He’s poor.”
Obviously so.
“He’s distinctively poor. There’s a bad smell when he walks around.”
One’s poverty could not be covered up with the monotone school uniforms. The awful thing about poverty is that it shows. Everyone could tell that Kim Yul was poor. Anyone who got close knew that he smelled bad.
He is easy for anyone to ridicule.
“Hey.”
So it is easy to begin.
“It might be a bit harsh to say this, but when you go near that guy…”
“Oh, yeah. He did smell a little. Poor guy…”
Level 1.
Go lightly at first.
‘You’ probably know, too, that you shouldn’t reveal your hand at the beginning. That would be dumb.
“Did he enter on a financial aid?”
“I’ve known Kim Yul since middle school, and even then…”
Idle talk.
It’s enough to use the prey as a simple topic in conversation.
“Should I tell you guys a secret? Actually…”
Gradually increase the number of students who partic.i.p.ate in the small talk.
“He lives there? Wow. That’s a literal dump.”
“I heard his dad is the trash collector.”
“Huh. Could that be the same guy who picks up the waste at our house?”
“Hey. No way…”
Like this, gradually brighten the spotlight on him.
The initiator, here, must be careful to never reveal his malice. Not yet! ‘You’ know it, too. It isn’t time for that yet.
Look.
‘Isn’t Kim Yul kind of annoying?’
Instead of saying that, say:
“Oh, wow. It’s true. The trash collector for our house is Kim Yul’s dad!”
This is much smarter.
“What, really?”
Of course, it’s a lie.
“How did you find out?”
“I was also skeptical at first. But on Sunday, the man came to pick up the trash, so I asked, [Are you Kim Yul’s father? I’m his school friend]. He acted a little embarra.s.sed, but then he asked me to take care of his son.”
“Dude…”
“Really?”
Lies are the bases of ‘our’ accomplishments.
Even as they doubted me, my cla.s.smates looked at me with twinkling eyes. Those gazes, that interest, are the proof of your success. You’ve succeeded in drawing people to the subject of [Kim Yul].
“Kim Yul! By any chance, does your dad—”
“Hey, hey. Why are you asking that? Shut up.”
“Why not? Did you lie?”
“No, but anyway. Sorry, Kim Yul. It’s nothing.”
“……”
Level 2.
The observation phase.
Malice s...o...b..a.l.l.s well enough on its own from here.
“Pft.”
There isn’t anyone in the world who does not make mistakes. Students make plenty of them. Now that the cla.s.s is paying attention to Kim Yul’s every move, they view his mistakes like they are looking through a magnifying gla.s.s.
“Haha…”
Then, they laugh.
He missed the volleyball in gym cla.s.s and had to run a little farther.
He fell asleep in fourth period and didn’t wake up even during lunch.
He stuttered a little when the teacher asked him a question.
“Ha…”
It doesn’t matter how trivial the mistake was.
Easy and conspicuous.
Always remember the mechanics of [ridicule].
“You know, he always goes behind the school for lunch. That’s…”
“Is he feeding the chickens? Seriously?”
“Go to the window and look. I’m serious.”
Something that anyone can see easily.
Something that anyone can partake in easily.
“Kim Yul! Look up here!”
“What, he’s really looking here.”
“Is he trying to get the chickens for free once they’re grown?”
“Eww.”
Eventually, a game that anyone can join in.
‘You’ probably know, too, that most bullying ends here.
Up to this point, it can happen naturally. There doesn’t need to be a clear ringleader. There doesn’t have to be any accomplices. You can get up to [Level 2] with just sympathizers.
Level 2 bullying corresponds to the following:
Mild violence once every two weeks. Group a.s.sault once every three months. A public beating once every six months. One small scar that cannot be removed on the body. If it’s short, one semester. If it’s long, three years. Sometimes a few students lead the violence, but there isn’t a long-term culprit…
But as ‘you’ probably know.
“Hey.”
‘We’ do not stop there.
“Let’s test it.”
We take one step further.
“What?”
“Look. I bought these shoes, so they’re brand new.”
If you have successfully brought others to this point, ‘you’ must certainly be good at lying. Now, you had to perform a small magic trick for your cla.s.smates.
“I’ll draw some stars on the sole of the shoes with a marker. See? You guys saw it, right?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“I’m going to throw it away with trash in front of my house.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“Idiot. Kim Yul’s dad is the waste collector for my house.”
Of course, it’s a lie. The trash collector for your house is not Kim Yul’s father, actually. But that doesn’t matter. You know what paths Kim Yul’s father usually took.
“Will that mister give Kim Yul a present if he sees new shoes being thrown out? Why wouldn’t he? So, look. If Kim Yul’s father really is the trash man, then Kim Yul will wear these shoes tomorrow.”
“Uh…”
“I guess?”
“I bet that Kim Yul will come to school wearing these shoes tomorrow.”
Now.
You’ve privately prepared a second pair of shoes.
“There we go. I’ll leave it here. You all saw, right? I won’t ever touch it.”
One pair, you threw out with the trash at your house in front of your friends.
“Okay.”
The other pair had already been placed on the route Kim Yul’s father walked the day before.
Needless to say, both pairs have a ★ on the soles.
You want to show your friends some magic. So, you pretend to draw the ★ in front of them. If you’re cautious enough, you can also establish a perfect alibi by hanging out with your friends for the rest of the day.
“Hey, check the shoes!”
It is lunchtime on the following day. We are in the cla.s.sroom.
“What if someone catches us?”
“Just look quickly!”
“We’re just sneaking a peak. It doesn’t matter…”
While Kim Yul is gone, having headed down to the cafeteria, we gather. Kim Yul’s desk. There is a bag holding the shoes hung on the hook.
The students’ eyes sparkle. Giggling to show that [it’s only a joke], we lift up Kim Yul’s shoe bag. Then, we take out shoes that are cleaner than normal.
“Wow.”
Naturally.
“I-it’s real!”
A ★ is drawn on the bottom of the shoes that Kim Yul brought.
“Oh, s.h.i.+t. Then, Kim Yul’s wearing what you threw out…”
“You didn’t plan this with Kim Yul, did you?”
“‘Course not. He’s been with us all day yesterday and today.”
“Then, it’s actually…”
The students look at you. Those eyes have just witnessed a fascinating magic trick. At this point, you can choose from a number of lines. It depends on your personality and preferences. ‘Didn’t I tell you I was right?’ is one of the options. Or, ‘That’s kind of unpleasant.’ You can slowly reveal your ill will.
“Wow.”
But I recommend this line.
“So it’s true…”
Bury yourself in your surroundings.
“I mean, that old man could have lied that he’s Kim Yul’s dad.”
Feign ignorance.
“So I wasn’t 100% sure, either.”
Laugh like you don’t get it. Check the shoes again, acting like you’re seeing something unbelievable. Then, refine your tone like you’ve realized some new truth.
“But wow. To think it was real…”
And take back one step.
“Ah, whatever. I don’t know. I’m calling off the bet. I don’t need it. You guys, just pretend you don’t know. This is something between just us. Let’s call it quits. Anyway, I don’t know.”
Inexperienced leaders always try to do everything themselves. As ‘you’ know, this is stupid and impatient. You feel impatient because you know that the evidence and magic you concocted is sloppy.
That’s why you have to perform the magic perfectly from the beginning.
“What’s happening?”
Just in time.
The other students return to the cla.s.sroom one by one from lunch.
“Hey, Kim Yul is actually…”
“Huh? Tell me, tell me!”
Of course, you deliberately set lunchtime as the setting for your magic show. You can’t waste your magic during a mere break.
At lunchtime, the cla.s.s returns to the room in twos and threes. There is enough time. It’s perfect for whispering about and spreading the ‘event’ that just happened.
“No way.”
They look at Kim Yul’s shoes.
“That’s crazy. It’s real?”
‘As if.’
You sit in the back row, pretending to be asleep.
You’re cautious.
You can never spread the story yourself. You can’t get ahead of yourself. You have the virtue of a lion, which does not monopolize its hunt and shares its prey with its pride.
“What are you guys talking about?”
“Come over here.”
“What about Kim Yul’s shoes?”
Let others have the fun of spreading rumors. Plant the illusion that they ‘discovered’ the ‘truth’ themselves. Allow them to gorge themselves on the b.l.o.o.d.y chunk of meat.
“Ugh. Is he picking up other things and using them, too?”
Trust in humanity’s malice.
“Yeah. Keep it quiet, but Kim Yul’s dad is actually the trash collector. We went to the same middle school. We once had to talk about our parents’ jobs…”
Trust in the power of ridicule.
“That’s pretty nasty…”
Trust in the magic of ★.
“Wow. Then, is everything he owns recycled?”
“It’s recycled, I tell you.”
“Pfft.”
★.
“I feel sorry for him, but he’s disgusting. Really.”
“Oh, gross. I can smell his feet. Weren’t these shoes supposed to be new?”
★.
“Hey, the recycling man is here. Hide it.”
★.
“Kim Yul. Did you come back from feeding the chickens?”
“Your shoes look pretty clean today!”
“Heh.”
★.
“……?”
After school.
You all form a pack and head down to the front gate to go after Kim Yul. Kim Yul tilts his head because he doesn’t know the reason, but he doesn’t care.
The moment Kim Yul takes his shoes out from the bag and changes—
“Pfft!”
★ is complete.
“Pft, haha…”
“Hey, Kim Yul! That over there…”
“Those are the shoes Eunseo threw away at his house yesterday!”
“Look at the soles!”
The young beasts are immersed in the pleasure of exposing the ‘truth’ that Kim Yul doesn’t know. He is a dirty child. It’s pointless even if he denies it. We have ‘evidence.’
“……”
The truth is that Kim Yul’s father found a new pair of shoes and gave them to his son. The truth is, Kim Yul’s father picked up the shoes, carefully examined them to see how new they were, and thought it was all right, so he gave them to his son. The truth is, Kim Yul knew everything, but he silently received the gift from his father. His father’s concern, his silent expression, and Kim Yul’s muted eyes are the truth.
But beasts didn’t have the imagination to think of that.
They didn’t even try.
“……”
Because ridicule is much easier.
With the proof you fabricated, the beasts easily feasted upon ★.
“Do you have that much free time?” Kim Yul said expressionlessly. “Is it fun?”
He is composed.
“If you’re bored, do your own thing. Stop bothering others.”
Then, he turns his back and leaves.
“Uh…”
“……”
The students remain silent for a moment.
If someone says anything, like ‘Hey, this isn’t funny. Let’s stop,” things may end. ‘We’re in high school. Why are we bullying people?’ You have to drive away that atmosphere. As ‘you’ know, it takes courage to say something like that.
“What? Why’s he acting like that?”
“We were just joking…”
When n.o.body is saying what they should.
“b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
“Even though he’s walking around wearing trash.”
“I didn’t know he was that kind of guy…”
Level 3.
Violence against the scapegoat is allowed.
“Hey, someone buy indoor shoes and throw them away. Let’s see if he’ll wear those, too.”
I don’t know how you all will remember your school days.
“He leaves his bookbag behind at lunch. Put this pencil case in there while he’s gone.”
“You’re a really bad guy.”
“Whatever.”
Were you happy? Did you enjoy yourself?
“Huh? Isn’t that the pencil case I threw out yesterday?”
“What? Kim Yul, were you recycling again?”
“Pft.”
The cla.s.sroom, which was small enough to be painted with the excuse of the ignorance of childhood. Are the scenes that occurred there covered with a beautiful sepia filter?
“Ugh. The milk spoiled…”
“Hide it under his desk.”
“Quick! Cla.s.s is gonna start!”
It isn’t for me.
“…Where is the strange smell coming from?”
“You smell it too?”
“Yeah. It kept stinking all through math cla.s.s.”
“Wait a moment. I’ll look for it. Sniff, sniff.”
“I think it’s coming from the back row.”
I am a little more subtle than you guys.
I am cunning.
“Yul, why do you bother was.h.i.+ng the rags? A rag’s a rag no matter how much you wash it.”
“How sad. Maybe he sympathizes with the rag…”
Maybe there was n.o.body like me in your school.
Or maybe, you simply don’t remember.
[Currently, your immersion rate is 100%.]
But I am definitely here.
“……”
In this city.
In this school.
I am sitting in this cla.s.sroom, holding a mechanical pencil.
“Cla.s.s Pres, what are you looking at?”
The cla.s.s president looks at me with strange eyes.
“…Gongja.”
“Huh?”
“……”
The cla.s.s president trembled. It was very slight. He seemed to be disgusted with something, or maybe he was lamenting something. But his weird att.i.tude soon lifted.
The cla.s.s president cleared his throat and said, “No. It’s nothing. I just couldn’t remember your name all of a sudden. What was it, again?”
“What? Cla.s.s Pres, do you have dementia this young? I’m Hw.a.n.g Eunseo.”
“Ah. That’s right,” the cla.s.s president murmured, saying, “That’s the name.”
That kid usually didn’t interact with our group.
“I heard your girlfriend is running for student council.”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I think I will, too. Please tell her I look forward to working with her.”
“What? You wanna be the student council president? But all you ever do is study, Cla.s.s Pres.”
“I need recommendations to enter Seoul National University. They say it’s easy if you become the student council president.”
Is that so? Seems like it.
It’s kind of funny how he wants to join the student council to go to Seoul National University. Well, it’s the cla.s.s president. He’s an honest guy. I decide to let it pa.s.s.
“Cool. Good luck, Cla.s.s Pres. I’m voting for my girlfriend, but anyway, fight on.”
The cla.s.s president nods his head with a blank face.
“All right. Thanks.”
I am strong.
I am a manipulative and shrewd person.
Therefore.
“—Even if you didn’t say it, I’m going to try my best.”
Let us talk about my defeat.