Novelist Running Through Time

Chapter 3: Cause of Death



Chapter 3: Cause of Death

Morning dawned again at the New Light Spring Orphanage.

The children woke up at 7 a.m., swiftly folded their blankets,

gathered in the dining hall to quickly eat their meals,

and briskly dressed in their school uniforms, ready to head to school.

It was the start of another peaceful day.

There was a bit of a commotion last night due to a surprise inspection in the high school section, where a few students were caught with condoms and cell phones, but this was still considered relatively peaceful.

Whats a condom?

I dont know.

Moon In-seop, a fifth grader in primary school, didnt know about such things.

EP 1 Cause of Death

Moon In-seop, a fifth grader, went to school.

Right upon arriving, it was the winter vacation ceremony.

It made sense, being the day after Christmas.

Adapting to school life seemed difficult, but luckily I managed. I couldnt even remember where my seat was

Fortunately, thanks to the notes my friends kindly left on my desk, I quickly found my place.

The notes read:

[Mom in America]

[MD]

[Seop-Seop misses you]

[Miss Seop-Seop]

Ah, right.

I was bullied.

TL Note:

Above is basically

[Mom in America]

[MD]

[Disappointment misses you]

[Miss Disappointment]

Also if you wondering [MD] here is Mother Death aka Motherless

* * *

Mun Chung-jae, the director of New Light Spring Orphanage, held the ideology of raising the children as his own.

Therefore, he bestowed the Mun family surname and generational name to those children he could name.

The problem was that the generational name was Seop.

Seop was a word too old-fashioned for the MZ Generation.

Thus, at school, I became known as Seop-seop.

I dont even want to think about how I was treated when the catchphrase Feeling Seop-Seop from a famous drama became popular. (TL: (Seop-Seop) is a slang to express disappointment or sadness)

Of course, the real reason those kids bullied me wasnt my name, but the fact that I was from an orphanage

Anyway, I intensely disliked the character Seop.

Ah- its winter vacation now? Is Seop-seop going to be sad that he wont be seeing us anymore?

Are you happy that you wont see us?

It would be fucking hilarious if we end up in the same class next year.

A child without parents is unprotected.

The unprotected are weak, and the weak are despised. Its a law of nature known even to beasts. Humans, being animals, have followed this for thousands of years.

However, this traditional perception isnt the sole reason orphans are ostracized.

Children from the orphanage know they are likely to be victims of bullying.

They also know from experience that adults wont take their side.

Therefore, orphans protect themselves.

Whether its themselves or others.

Their means is usually violence.

This is why most parents advise their children to not associate with that child.

Anyway.

If a kid from the same orphanage gets insulted and beaten up, rushing over in a group to beat the offender was considered a code of honor among fellow orphans.

This was our social safety net.

But I was a child outside that safety net.

If you boil it down, I was just incredibly unlucky.

When drawing lots for primary school assignments, I was the only one unlucky enough to end up at a distant school.

I could have asked for help, which might have improved the situation, but as a natural loner with a slightly sensitive disposition, I lacked the confidence to actively seek help from adults. I was embarrassed about being bullied and, after being rejected once when I finally mustered the courage to ask for help, I never spoke up again.

Also, being introverted, instead of confronting and asking Why are you bullying me? This is wrong., I spent my childhood saying Im so pitiful. So lonely.

In fact, the problem could have been easily resolved with the help of the education authorities or human rights groups. (School police officers are friends with the teachers, so they cant be trusted.)

But an opportunity to correct that mistake came.

I decided to take action immediately.

The padded jacket-wearing bullies, ABC, were my target.

Guys. Its not good to bully people like this. I have feelings too. Wont you stop these mean pranks?

To my firm reprimand, the trio of bullies in padded jackets were taken aback and fell silent.

The leader of the group, wearing a red padded jacket, pondered for a moment before replying.

Who cares?

What?

Who cares your mom?

Seeing my dumbfounded expression, the kids in blue and white padded jackets, who seemed to be his left and right-hand men, burst into laughter.

Hahaha-!

Hey! Crazy! Dont make mother jokes about someone who doesnt have one!

What are you talking about? He said Who cares TV.

Oh, then its cool. Agreed?

Yeah, agreed.

The three kids, dressed in red, blue, and white jackets, repeated Who cares your mom?, pronouncing it so quickly that it sounded like Who cares TV.

(TL: TV is a korean slang and using in settings like above)

Who cares your mom, Who cares your mom, Who cares your mom

Overwhelmed by their chant, I lost my mind.

School violence in middle school is brutal, in high school its dark, but in primary school, its overtly blatant due to lack of social experience.

Not knowing how to respond, I stood there stunned, and the kid in the red jacket cackled at me.

Ah- Is Seop-seop feeling upset?

Hes sulking. Hes sulking.

Is Seop-seop sulking? Sulking?

And then,

a punch suddenly flew in and struck me in the solar plexus.

Ugh!

Is Seop-seop upset?

Dont pretend it hurts! Idiot!

As I lay on the ground, clutching my stomach and writhing like a caterpillar, they surrounded me and laughed.

Thats when I realized that no matter what I said, these kids wouldnt listen.

Luckily, it was still before the first period. The homeroom teacher should be in the staff room.

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I quickly ran from the classroom to the staff room.

I immediately spotted the homeroom teacher, looking tired and tapping on a computer keyboard.

I had forgotten his name, but I vaguely remembered his face. I think he was the English teacher.

Teacher.

Oh. In-seop? What is it?

I got beaten up by some kids in my class.

Ah.

The homeroom teacher looked more like a government official who had received a complicated complaint rather than being shocked.

It was more of a feeling of inconvenience than annoyance.

He sighed my name.

In-seop.

Yes, Teacher.

Well. Ill talk about it during the morning assembly. For now, go back to class.

Yes?

Well have a counseling session after school.

Lets see.

The homeroom teacher had proposed a concrete solution to the complaint.

He decided to announce a ban on school violence in a school-wide notice, and offered to counsel me later.

Had I been younger, I would have accepted his words and returned to class.

What would follow was predictable.

First, the homeroom teacher will sternly admonish during the morning assembly, saying, I heard theres been school violence in the class recently. If anyone is caught, they will be severely reprimanded, so everyone should get along well.

After that, he will leave to teach another class, and I will probably be called names like snitcher and getting beaten until the end of school today.

And after school, the teacher, claiming to be suddenly busy, would postpone the counseling session until after the winter break.

And if he dragged it out a bit longer, the students would become sixth graders, and the teacher would be free of any responsibility.

Good heavens.

What kind of hell was South Korea 10 years ago?

Teacher, it wasnt just a light hit among kids, I was seriously beaten. I was also verbally abused. You know about my family situation.

Yes, In-seop. I understand. Ill talk to them sternly.

Are you not going to convene the School Violence Committee?

What? The committee? Lets talk about that after our counseling session.

Ah, now I understand the homeroom teachers mindset.

I know the teachers in South Korea have it tough, with the declining authority and the stress it brings.

But I have rights too.

If they keep ignoring my rights, I have no choice but to become a bully myself.

Ah, homeroom teacher-!!!

Wh- What!

With a roar that erupted in the staff room, all eyes were on me.

Seeing the homeroom teacher startled, and not just the nearby teachers but even the vice principal in the far corner watching, I raised my voice in protest.

I may be an orphan and live in a Orphanage, but that doesnt mean I should be subjected to being called motherless by my peers!

Hey! Who do you think you are, raising your voice like this? Cant you be quiet?!

I just got beaten up badly enough to get bruises. And youre not going to do anything about it? If a student hits another student, shouldnt there be some kind of action taken?

Alright! Alright already! Lets talk outside the staff room, okay!?

Then please be clear about it! You should convene the School Violence Committee, understand the whole situation, and proceed to formal punishment!

You! Get out now.

Amidst the murmuring of the surrounding teachers and the overwhelming attention, the homeroom teacher, feeling pressed, forcibly dragged me out of the staff room.

He pulled me into an empty corridor, grinding his teeth and bursting with anger.

Once we were out of earshot of others, the homeroom teacher shouted at me.

What kind of way is that to talk to an adult!

From experience, I knew that arguing back now would only mean the louder person wins.

The teacher was certainly an adult, but not a perfect one. He was blinded by anger.

I decided to listen.

This is what you think of a teacher-

Im going to call the Orphanage and tell them everything that happened-

Kids these days are really scary-

Where did you learn such behavior-

I cant believe this, really-

After about 2 minutes, the teacher, who was heated from head to toe, started to calm down.

He seemed to realize that he had gone a bit too far in his verbal attack against a fifth grader and started to restrain himself.

Now was my moment.

Im not going back to class.

What?

Ill stay in the staff room, do whatever you think is best.

I walked back to the staff room. The teacher tried to physically stop me, but as I pushed forward with all my might, he was dragged along.

Even though an adult man is stronger than a primary school student, its extremely difficult to muster the courage to fully restrain someone in your workplace.

As his anger subsided, the teacher began to feel intimidated by me.

You, you! In-seop, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?

Hit me if you dare.

What?!

If I go back to class now, I will be beaten up. I will continue to be beaten up until school ends. Rather than that, its better for me to get hit by you now and call the police. Its the lesser evil.

The teacher, although often indifferent to students, seemed a bit shocked by my words.

He hesitated for a moment, then offered a compromise.

Alright. I understand how tough it is for you right now. Im sorry. Ill speak to the nurse, and you can stay in the infirmary until the end of the holiday ceremony today.

No, Teacher. I was also rude. Lets forget about the School Violence Committee. Ill change classes after the winter break, so I just need to get through today.

Thats what you want?

Yes, no need for counseling. Thank you, thats all.

The homeroom teacher, returning to the staff room, was sweating profusely. This must have been one of the more memorable experiences of his teaching career.

I went into the infirmary, asked the nurse for permission, and sat on a bed, pulling the curtain closed.

While my mind was calm, my young body was in shock, my heart pounding heavily.

My hands and feet were trembling slightly. I collapsed onto the bed.

As the tension released, tears streamed down my face, but my expression remained blank.

A worn-out soul was controlling a pure body.

* * *

The holiday ceremony had ended.

I left my school bag and indoor shoes in the classroom and started my way home. Well, not home, since the New Light Spring Orphanage isnt my home so maybe its more accurate to call it the way back to boarding school.

Anyway, after what had just happened, I felt I would never be able to adapt to school life. Maybe I should consider a correspondence course or the GED

Thats when it happened.

Hey-!

The trio in padded jackets was waiting for me at the school gate.

They rushed towards me as soon as they saw me, seemingly furious.

Hey! Moon In-seop! Stop right there!

You motherfucker! You bastard!

Crazy guys. I never thought Id be involved in a chase scene at an primary school.

I ran with the thought that if I were caught, it would be the end, but there was no way I, who spent all my time in the library to avoid others, could outrun boys who were obsessed with soccer all day.

I was caught!

You went and told the teacher everything?!

Well make you pay!

To the training room!

They grabbed me and dragged me to a secluded playground. The trio in padded jackets seemed both angry and somewhat enjoying this situation.

To them, this was all a game. Perhaps the idea of catching a coward and punishing him was exciting.

Proof of this was that, even while they were hitting me, it didnt hurt that much.

They were too young to know how to hit properly.

Real education! Real education!

Self-defense! Self-defense!

Oh no. But these assholes suddenly started pulling my hair-

Ah! Ah! Ouch!

Kids who dont know how to hit properly dont hesitate to strike where they shouldnt.

At one point, a punch deep in my solar plexus almost made me vomit.

10 seconds.

For 10 seconds, I couldnt breathe and rolled on the dirt floor.

Ugh! Huff! Uuuugh!

Ah, stop pretending it hurts, you bastard!

Yeah, right! We got in big trouble because of you! Fuck! Were going to get punished at home too!

The homeroom teacher must have called their parents. Telling them that their kids had beaten up another student. To be more careful.

I appreciate that, but it seemed like these guys were enraged after getting scolded by their parents over the phone.

These evil kids kept muttering strange things and rationalizing their actions while I was rolling on the ground.

Shit! Shit! Why did you have to escalate things!

We got punished, so you have to get punished by us. Thats only fair.

We were the only ones who played with you, and you betrayed us? You deserve to be beaten up.

The kids in padded jackets kept muttering phrases they thought were cool from YouTube as they continued to beat me up. Typical MZ generation bullies with subpar dialogue. (TL: Millennials + Gen Z = MZ)

Just as they were about to start beating me up again,

Ah, fuck, you motherfucking sons of bitches. Fuck.

When the trio in padded jackets turned around, there stood a fearsome, muscular high school student, glaring at them.

His name was Ma Ki-hoon, 18 years old.

The disciplinary head of the New Light Spring Orphanage.

* * *

The position of the disciplinary head at the New Light Spring Orphanage is more political than one might think.

Surviving through violence and contempt, the orphanages internal society had become harsh and tough

In that environment, its not common for one orphanage resident to give orders to another.

The disciplinary head, with the teachers endorsement, can discipline other residents, gather their opinions and confront the teachers, and, with the teachers tacit consent, can do things that are not usually permitted.

The position is not officially elected but is more of an implicit consensus among everyone that this person represents us, which in some ways makes it the most democratically chosen role.

Therefore, the disciplinary head is usually a person who excels in morals, intellect, and physique.

They need to be good at studies, kind-hearted, and skilled in sports (or fighting).

But Ma Ki-hoon is terrible at studies, smokes cigarettes, and only excels in sports.

Theres a reason why Ma Ki-hoon, since middle school, has been able to take control of the New Light Spring Orphanage and maintain his reign for so long.

It wasnt because Ma Ki-hoon was extraordinarily good at fighting. Reality is not a webtoon. When it comes to fights among middle and high school students, theyre all similar.

The real reason Ma Ki-hoon became the leader of the orphanage

He might have lacked wisdom and virtue, but he had hyeop (cooperation or alliance).

These fucking brats messing with our kid?

Wh-Who are you?

Think wearing a padded jacket will hurt less when you get hit?

Ma Ki-hoon was a man who showed his chivalry through actions, not words.

He believed in doing what is right and just

With such firm convictions, one could even cut down a Buddha or a Zen master if they met them on the road.

So, he hit a primary school student upon encountering one.

Snap-!

That was the sound of Ma Ki-hoons hand meeting the cheek of the kid in the red padded jacket.

Instinctively identifying the leader among the trio, Ma Ki-hoon had sprinted and smacked him hard.

Waaaah-!

The kid in the red padded jacket fell to the ground and burst into tears.

The other two ran away at the sound of his siren-like wailing, but escaping from someone who used his part-time job money not on a phone but a gym membership was impossible.

Let let go! Ill call the police! Aaah!

Mommy! Mommyyyy!

Ma Ki-hoon dragged the blue and white padded jacket kids back to the still-crying red one.

And when snap sounds were heard twice more, the trio lay side by side on the ground, crying.

What. The.

By my own perception, and not the worlds general view, I was a 22-year-old adult man until just the day before yesterday.

So, it was shocking to see three fifth-graders (about to be in sixth grade) getting slapped by a second-year high school student, regardless of them having beaten me up.

I felt dizzy.

Ma Ki-hoon looked at me, frozen like ice, then smirked and helped me up.

Lets go, In-seop.

Yes, hyung.

Hyung my ass. What are we, gangsters?

No, hyung.

* * *

Ma Ki-hoon took me, drained of energy, to a park where a cool breeze was blowing.

He sat me down on a park bench.

Just sit here for a bit.

Yes, hyung.

Damn it, if you call me hyung one more time

I wont, hyung.

Ma Ki-hoon left me alone in the park and went somewhere.

He returned with two Bibibig Ice Creams.

(TL: Bibibig Ice Cream)

Here.

You shouldve brought Hodu-maru.

(TL: Hodu-maru Ice Cream)

Damn it.

Ma Ki-hoon chuckled and hit the back of my head.

I unwrapped the Bibibig and put it in my mouth.

It felt somewhat refreshing.

Did you get hit a lot?

No, not really.

Looks like you did though?

How much can you get hurt in a fight among primary school kids?

Fight? You were just getting beaten up one-sidedly. You should exercise more, kid.

The sky was slowly turning crimson.

A few pigeons in the park soared up towards the red sunset.

And then they disappeared into the sunset-soaked clouds.

The old streetlights in the downtown area flickered on.

How did you come to know?

The orphanage called. Said you got beaten up at school.

Really?

Room Teacher said your homeroom teacher thinks you seem emotionally unstable.

So you came to meet me because of that?

Not just that. I had a hunch. Felt like you stirred up some trouble at school today.

Trouble, huh.

If trouble means a situation that deviates from whats intended, then I certainly caused a big one.

My plan for today was to use the brilliant intellect of a 22-year-old adult man to effortlessly deflect any issues with fifth graders and foster a positive academic atmosphere.

But returning to my school life turned out to be harder than I expected.

The unrefined malice of children was harsher than I thought, and the refined conscience of adults was duller than I expected.

How did the past me endure such a life?

I couldnt help but say,

Wow. Kids these days are harsher than I thought.

Hearing this, Ma Ki-hoon burst into insane laughter.

Hahaha! You saying that? Kids these days, fuck. A kid from these days talking about kids from these days, haha!

Ma Ki-hoon laughed heartily for a while before calming down.

Then he looked at me with a pitying gaze.

Im sorry, my brother.

For what?

For yesterday. When you forgot the Christmas dance routine, I scolded you without asking if you were alright or if something was bothering you.

Oh, that?

Yeah.

I didnt realize it when I was younger, but Ma Ki-hoon seemed to have a stronger sense of responsibility than I thought.

Its remarkable for a mere high school sophomore to take such care of other kids who arent even his blood relatives.

Kids these days really grow up fast.

Well, its fine. Its not your fault. Its hard to pinpoint whos responsible when orphans are getting beaten up. Its just the world thats a bit weird.

Damn, kid, youre good with words. Are you in liberal arts?

Dont think too much. You have your own life to live If I were in your shoes, I think it would have been tough for me too.

What? Life? Yeah, right.

Ma Ki-hoon suddenly pulled out a cigarette from his pocket.

Then he placed it in his mouth and lit it with a lighter he took out as well.

I watched him, a bit taken aback.

Arent you going to ask if its okay to smoke?

Phew. Life. Fuck.

Seeing me awkwardly looking at his cigarette, Ma Ki-hoon laughed and patted me on the back.

Then he looked up at the sunset-filled sky and yelled,

Ah, fuck! Moon In-seop! In-seop!

What?

In-seop! The one who ate his poop in diapers!

I told you I dont remember any of that, it happened when I was a baby.

Wow, our In-seop has grown into an old soul, able to converse with me like this.

Ma Ki-hoons cigarette smoke spiraled up towards the sunset.

He lamented as he watched the days sun set.

It was as if he was afraid of the passing of each day,

like a child scared of the coming of tomorrow.

Ah, fuck, time feels like its going too fast.

Why?

The newborn who used to munch on diaper poop is now old enough to talk about life with me.

Ive grown up too.

Life. Damn life. Soon, in a couple of years, Ill have to leave the orphanage and start living my own life.

It seemed that life was a scary concept for Ma Ki-hoon, a high school sophomore.

Ah, fuck. What should I do? What am I going to do after graduation, damn it.

He muttered to himself for a long time, as if entranced by the word life.

Unintentionally stirring up the trauma of a young man, I, as a 22-year-old adult with ten years more experience, offered some advice, sprinkling in a bit of knowledge from my time-traveling experience.

I saw on the internet. Theres talk about changing the law. So that you can stay in the orphanage until youre 24.

Really?!

It looks like that change will happen soon. Also, orphans leaving the orphanage get preferential treatment for public housing applications, so make sure to look into that and find a place. If you cant get that, youll have no choice but to go to a gosiwon. (TL: Gosiwon are single room for rent mostly rented by students in south korea)

Whats an application?

Oh boy. Ill explain it, so listen carefully.

We spent a long time in the park, talking about various things.

By the time we decided to leave, the sunset had faded, and the sky had turned dark.

Ma Ki-hoons cigarette had almost completely burned down.

Brrr. Its cold. Lets go in.

Ma Ki-hoon stood up, shivering in the night air, but I still had something nagging at me.

Hyung, what about the kids you hit? What are you going to do?

What about them?

Dont you have to do something?

Eh, fuck, its fine. Ill handle it.

How are you going to handle it?

There are ways. Dont worry about it.

Ma Ki-hoon seemed to be saying anything to change the subject.

He offered me the last bit of his cigarette.

Do you want a puff?

What?

Ah, just kidding, just kidding.

But I wasnt planning to let it end as a joke.

Like a cat pouncing on its prey, I quickly snatched the cigarette.

Puff!

Whoa! Fuck!

Cough! Cough!

Hey, you crazy kid!

Wait, just one more puff.

Youre nuts! Give that back right now!

And thats how we went back home.

Although when I think about it, it wasnt really home.

* * *

Non-interference pact between government and martial arts.

An old rule stating that the government and the martial arts world do not interfere in each others affairs.

How could mere minions disrupt the hidden pacts of the martial arts world and interfere with the actions of a swordsman?

But in an era where righteousness and duty have fallen by the wayside, the old rules no longer held any meaning.

Where is student Ma Ki-hoon! Call him here right now!

Teacher, please calm down.

Calm down? How can I be calm at a time like this?!

The officials had begun to chase after the martial artists


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