The Way to Save the Crazy Returnees Chapter 11 - Cheongha High School (1)

 

 

Lee Yoo-seong’s lips trembled slightly.

 

Soon, the boy gave a quiet reply.

 

“No, I’m fine.”

 

I expected as much.

 

Lee Yoo-seong wasn’t the type to share the weight he carried. No matter how unfair things became, he always blamed himself—and endured it in silence.

 

‘That kind of personality… it’s probably what’s gotten him killed time and time again.’

 

Always enduring, until he couldn’t anymore.

 

I looked at him, recalling the countless times I’d lost Lee Yoo-seong in past lives. Perhaps sensing the heaviness of my gaze, he lowered his head. Then he spoke again.

 

“Um, teacher. About the gift…”

 

“Just take it.”

 

I cut him off before he could refuse.

 

“When an adult gives you something, you’re supposed to say ‘thank you’ and accept it.”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded.

 

“…Thank you.”

 

What a good kid.

 

I wanted to reach out and pat his head—watching him constantly gauge my expression like that—but I held back. There would be plenty of chances to do that later.

 

“I’ve got another class to teach, so I’ll be heading out now.”

 

“Ah, then I should also…”

 

“No, Yoo-seong. You stay and rest. I already talked to Teacher Choi, so don’t worry.”

 

For Lee Yoo-seong, the classroom was nothing short of hell.

 

He hesitated for a moment, lips slightly parted, then gave a small bow.

 

“Thank you.”

 

I gave a brief nod and left the counseling room.

 

I thought I wouldn’t see Lee Yoo-seong again that day.

 

But I was wrong.

 

“Lee Yoo-seong! Are you seriously going to keep this up?!”

 

After second period, when I returned to the teachers’ office, I saw Lee Yoo-seong being scolded by Choi Seung-hye, the math teacher.

 

“Teacher Choi, what’s going on?”

 

“Ah! Teacher Kwak!”

 

Choi Seung-hye greeted me with a frustrated look.

 

“This kid walked into my class late without saying a word…!”

 

“Teacher Choi.”

 

Without saying a word?

 

“You know he was with me for counseling. I even told you he might be late.”

 

“Well, yes, but still—”

 

Choi Seung-hye trailed off.

 

She didn’t like Lee Yoo-seong. That much was obvious from how she reacted the moment his name came up after first period.

 

This scolding wasn’t really about him being late. It was just an excuse.

 

“Yoo-seong, go back to class.”

 

He looked at me with uncertain eyes, as if asking whether it was really okay.

 

“Go on.”

 

Only then did he quietly leave the teachers’ office. He didn’t forget to bow politely to both me and Choi Seung-hye on his way out.

 

He really was a polite, well-mannered kid.

 

And yet, Teacher Choi Seung-hye…

 

“Ahem. Hm.”

 

She cleared her throat awkwardly and avoided my gaze. Clearly, she felt a twinge of guilt. Should I call her out on it?

 

I was just considering what to say when—

 

“Teacher Kwak Yoon-hoo, can I have a word?”

 

It was Kim Byung-chul, the homeroom teacher of Class 3-A.

 

***

 

He led me to the parking lot behind the school building.

 

A cigarette between his lips, he began to speak.

 

“I know you’re eager because it’s your first day, but you shouldn’t embarrass your fellow teachers like that.”

 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

 

He sighed and continued.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, confronting Teacher Choi Seung-hye like that over what was clearly a misunderstanding?”

 

A misunderstanding? Was he serious?

 

I let out a dry chuckle in disbelief, but he pressed on.

 

“Since you’re only a temporary teacher, we’d appreciate it if you quietly filled in until Teacher Choi Kyo-bin returns.”

 

“You want me to quietly fill in for Teacher Choi Kyo-bin?”

 

“That’s right. I’m glad you understand.”

 

He nodded, lighting his cigarette.

 

I gave a faint smirk and replied—

 

“No. I don’t want to.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said, I don’t want to.”

 

The cigarette slipped from his lips and hit the ground. Calmly, I stepped on it, snuffing out the ember beneath my shoe.

 

“I heard this was supposed to be the best high school in Korea. But now? I’m not impressed. Then again, I guess it makes sense. Whether teachers or students, you’re all just frogs in a well.”

 

“…What did you just say?”

 

“Frogs in a well.”

 

You and your students both.

 

I stepped forward confidently, giving him a slight, teasing smile.

 

“Teacher Kim Byung-chul. You know Lee Yoo-seong is being bullied, don’t you?”

 

His eyes flickered. That alone was enough of an answer—not that I needed one.

 

In all the lives I’ve lived, not once had Kim Byung-chul been unaware of Lee Yoo-seong’s bullying.

 

And not once had he ever lifted a finger to help that boy, even as he watched him being pushed closer and closer to the edge.

 

Thinking about it now… really pissed me off.

 

“Teacher Kim Byung-chul,” I said, forcing my expression into something neutral to hide my frustration. Then I added:

 

“I’d appreciate it if you handled Lee Yoo-seong’s situation properly—before I have to step in myself.”

 

With that, I turned and walked away.

 

‘He must’ve gotten the message.’

 

At least, that’s what I thought.

 

But I was wrong.

 

“Lee Yoo-seong. Lee Jin-hyuk. Come to the front.”

 

That was when I realized I’d misjudged him—during the last few minutes of class.

 

With a stiff expression, Kim Byung-chul called the two boys up to the front of the room.

 

“Lee Jin-hyuk, apologize to Lee Yoo-seong.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“We received a report. Apparently, you’ve been bullying him repeatedly.”

 

Lee Jin-hyuk shot Lee Yoo-seong a glare sharp enough to kill. Lee Yoo-seong, unable to endure his cousin’s venomous stare, lowered his head.

 

“Now, if you apologize here and now, we can settle this without escalating it to the school violence committee. Just say sorry, Jin-hyuk.”

 

Lee Jin-hyuk’s face twisted in frustration.

 

“Lee Jin-hyuk!”

 

Under pressure from Kim Byung-chul, he finally gave in.

 

“…Sorry.”

 

You little piece of shit.

 

He didn’t even say the words—just mouthed them toward Lee Yoo-seong. But of course, Kim Byung-chul either didn’t notice or pretended not to.

 

“See, everyone? This is how we resolve things. We all need to get along, right, Teacher Kwak Yoon-hoo?”

 

The way he said it—with that smug, fake smile—made my lip curl in disgust.

 

But what could I do? Speaking up now would only make things worse for Lee Yoo-seong.

 

So I simply said,

 

“…Yes, Teacher Kim Byung-chul.”

 

That was all I could say.

 

Damn it.

 

***

 

“Welcome home, young master.”

 

I gave the staff a brief nod and focused on the phone pressed to my ear.

 

“Yes, go ahead with it. I’ll talk to my grandfather myself. Don’t worry about the board meeting—I’ll be using my own funds to take over anyway. Yeah. Thank you.”

 

I ended the call as I opened the door to my room—only to see someone sprawled on my couch.

 

“What the—?!”

 

Seo Do-hwan, who’d been napping there, bolted upright in surprise.

 

I had no idea why he was in my room, but I checked on him anyway.

 

“That swelling’s still there? Did you ice it properly?”

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “But why do you look so grumfy, boss?”

 

“What?”

 

He pulled out his notebook and scribbled something before flashing the page at me:

 

[Why the hell are you in such a bad mood, boss?]

 

“Do I really look that pissed?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

I let out a low chuckle.

 

“Good eye. I’m seriously pissed off right now.”

 

Seo Do-hwan blinked. His face said it all: Who the hell managed to tick you off?

 

“Something happen at school?”

 

I nodded silently. Explaining it would just make my blood boil again.

 

But more importantly…

 

“Hey, Seo Do-hwan. Teaching kids isn’t your thing, right?”

 

“Huh? Yeah, hell no.”

 

“How about just hanging out with them?”

 

“That too. I hate kids.”

 

“What if you had no choice?”

 

He blinked, then frowned.

 

“…Why are you asking me that, you damn boss?”

 

I gave him a broad, suspiciously cheerful smile in response to his irritated voice.

 

***

 

“Fucking hell, I’m so pissed off.”

 

Spitting on the ground, Lee Jin-hyuk grabbed his cousin by the hair.

 

“Hey! Yoo-seong! When the hell did I ever bully you, huh? Say it! Say it, you little shit!”

 

Lee Yoo-seong kept his head down, silently enduring his cousin’s anger.

 

“Goddamn it! This bastard—seriously!”

 

Just as Lee Jin-hyuk raised his hand to hit him—

 

“Whoa, whoa, Jin-hyuk. Chill, man. What if someone reports you again and the homeroom teacher makes you apologize? What are you gonna do then?”

 

“Yeah, come on. I’ll treat you to karaoke. Just cool it.”

 

His friends stepped in, trying to calm him down.

 

“Tch. You little shit. If something like this happens again, I swear—I’ll kill you. Got it?”

 

Lee Jin-hyuk let go of him, though it looked more like he was flinging something filthy away than letting go.

 

As Lee Yoo-seong collapsed onto the dusty ground, Lee Jin-hyuk and his friends walked off, chatting casually.

 

“Hey, did you hear? We’re probably getting a transfer student in our class.”

 

“A transfer?”

 

“Yeah! Supposedly filthy rich.”

 

“Bet he bribed the principal to get into our class. New kids always go to Class C first. That’s the school’s rule.”

 

“He’s smart too, apparently. Studied abroad at some elite U.S. private school.”

 

Lee Yoo-seong slowly picked himself up, their voices fading into meaningless background noise.

 

Then someone snickered,

 

“Congrats, Yoo-seong. Maybe you’ll finally get a friend!”

 

A friend? Someone like me?

 

Ever since his uncle’s family took everything from his parents, Lee Yoo-seong had been alone.

 

‘And I probably always will be.’

 

It wasn’t like he was realizing it for the first time. But even so, the thought still made him want to die.

 

***

 

“Everyone, take your seats! You little punks—do you even realize how long it’s been since the homeroom bell rang?! Why’s it still this noisy?!”

 

Bang, bang!

 

The sound of Kim Byung-chul slamming his desk finally brought Class 3-A to silence. Only then did he speak, as if he were delivering big news.

 

“Alright! Some of you might’ve already heard, but we’ve got a transfer student joining us today!”

 

Creak.

 

The classroom door slid open—and a man walked in.

 

“Is he a gangster?”

 

One of the students muttered under their breath.

 

Honestly, you couldn’t blame them. The guy looked rough. His messy black hair hung down over half his face, and just one glance at him was enough to make people uneasy.

 

The same thought passed through everyone’s head:

 

‘Is he really our age?’

 

‘Did living in America age him or something?’

 

‘Dude looks like a full-grown adult.’

 

Oblivious to their reactions, the new student stood beside Kim Byung-chul and introduced himself.

 

“Hello, my name is Seo Jong-pil. My American name is David Seo. Nice to meet you.”

 

The class fell into stunned silence.

 

‘Was that supposed to be English?’

 

‘That pronunciation though…’

 

‘Even native speakers would drop dead listening to that.’

 

Ahem.

 

Seo Jong-pil cleared his throat awkwardly and tried again.

 

“I’ve lived in the U.S. for a long time, so there’s a lot I don’t know. Please take care of me.”

 

“Right, so don’t leave him out or treat him differently, okay?” Kim Byung-chul added. “Be nice to him. Class president—show him around during break.”

 

“Yes, teacher,” replied Kim Ji-ye, a friend of Lee Jin-hyuk and someone who often joined him in bullying Lee Yoo-seong. She gave a slight smile.

 

Just as Kim Byung-chul was about to leave the classroom, ‘Seo Jong-pil’ called out.

 

“Excuse me, teacher.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Where should I sit?”

 

Kim Byung-chul scratched his cheek, looking unsure.

 

“Anywhere that’s empty.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Without hesitation, Seo Jong-pil walked over and took an open seat.

 

There was just one problem.

 

“Hi! I’m Jong-pil.”

 

“H-Huh? Uh…”

 

“What about you?”

 

He had sat down next to the one person everyone avoided—Lee Yoo-seong.

 

Lee Yoo-seong looked completely panicked.

 

Seo Jong-pil tilted his head.

 

“What, no name? Did your parents forget to give you one?”

 

“Ah—uh, it’s… Y-Yoo-seong. Lee Yoo-seong.”

 

“Nice!”

 

Grinning, Seo Jong-pil extended a hand.

 

“Nice to meet you, Lee Yoo-seong.”

 

Caught off guard, Lee Yoo-seong stared at the offered hand, frozen in place. When he didn’t react, Seo Jong-pil simply grabbed his hand himself.

 

That sudden warmth—

no, the rare, long-forgotten feeling of someone else’s touch—

 

It made Lee Yoo-seong…

 

“Whoa!”

 

He flinched and instinctively pushed Seo Jong-pil’s hand away.