The week before the test was a whirlwind of tension and preparation for Kim. Every corner of the campus seemed alive with activity, a flurry of students burying themselves in their notes, scheduling last-minute study sessions, and seeking advice from professors. For Kim, the air was heavy with the weight of expectation—not just from himself but from his family, his peers in Class F, and the unspoken challenge of defying the deeply entrenched biases of the system.
At times, the pressure felt almost unbearable. Kim’s evenings stretched into the early hours of the morning, his mind swimming with formulas, theories, and strategies. His body protested against the relentless schedule, but he silenced his complaints with sheer willpower. Failure was not an option.
<hr>
Meanwhile, the disparity between classes became even more apparent. As Kim walked through the library, he couldn’t help but overhear conversations between Class A students boasting about their private tutors.
“Dr. Hwang said I’ll definitely ace the physics section with his help,” one student said smugly, leaning back in their chair.
“Lucky you,” another replied, “I’ve been using Professor Lee’s practice exams. They’re so good—they’re practically the real thing.”
Kim bit his lip, resisting the urge to lash out. While they had access to professors’ personalized guidance and exclusive materials, he was left scouring outdated textbooks in the quiet corners of the library. The injustice of it all stung, but Kim refused to let it distract him. Instead, it fueled his determination.
<hr>
Seo was an anchor amidst the storm. He often stopped by Kim’s home, bringing with him an infectious optimism that cut through the gloom.
“Here,” Seo said one evening, handing Kim a bundle of notes. “I compiled these from the last five years of exams. If there’s a pattern, it’s in here.”
Kim accepted the notes gratefully, the gesture a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone in this battle. Together, they pored over the material, identifying potential focus areas and drafting strategies for the test. Seo’s belief in Kim never wavered, even when Kim doubted himself.
“You’ve got this,” Seo said firmly. “You’re smarter than half those Class A snobs. The only difference is they’ve been handed everything on a silver platter.”
Kim smiled faintly. Seo’s unwavering confidence in him was a lifeline he clung to in moments of doubt.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
<hr>
But as the days ticked by, Kim found himself grappling with a deeper fear: the possibility of failure. He couldn’t shake the image of Park Min-ho, the senior who had once been a beacon of hope for scholarship students. The memory of Min-ho’s downfall loomed over him, a stark reminder of how unforgiving the system could be.
“What if I’m not good enough?” Kim confided to Seo one night, his voice barely above a whisper.
Seo frowned, leaning forward. “Don’t let them win before you’ve even tried, Kim. You’ve already beaten the odds just by being here. The test is just another hurdle—one you’re more than capable of crossing.”
<hr>
To combat the growing pressure, Kim turned to his siblings, Ji-sung and Ji-yeon. Their innocent enthusiasm for life served as a stark contrast to the ruthless competition of the university. On evenings when the weight of his studies became too much, Kim would take a break to play with them, their laughter a temporary balm for his anxieties.
One evening, as he sat helping Ji-sung with his homework, Ji-yeon climbed into his lap, holding a crayon-streaked drawing.
“This is you, oppa,” she said proudly, pointing to a stick figure standing on a mountain.
Kim chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Is that so? What’s this?”
“It’s a trophy,” Ji-yeon replied, her voice filled with certainty. “Because you’re the best.”
Her words stayed with Kim long after they had gone to bed. For his siblings, he was already a hero, someone who could rise above the challenges before him. That thought gave him a renewed sense of purpose.
<hr>
In the final days before the test, Kim threw himself into preparation with renewed vigor. He created flashcards, set timers for mock exams, and immersed himself in the material as if his life depended on it. His modest room became a fortress of focus, walls plastered with notes and diagrams, his desk cluttered with books and papers.
Every now and then, Seo would drop by, offering encouragement and ensuring Kim took care of himself.
“Don’t burn out,” Seo warned one evening, setting a plate of food on Kim’s desk. “You’re no good to anyone if you collapse before the test.”
Kim nodded, though his mind remained fixed on the pages before him. The test wasn’t just an academic challenge—it was a battle against the systemic inequalities that sought to define his future.
<hr>
The night before the test, Kim lay awake, his mind racing. He replayed everything he had studied, mentally rehearsing answers to potential questions. Anxiety gnawed at him, but beneath it lay a steely resolve.
As dawn broke, Kim sat by his window, watching the sky shift from gray to gold. The world outside was calm, oblivious to the storm raging within him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead.
“This is it,” he whispered to himself. “I won’t let them decide my worth.”
With that, he rose, ready to face whatever lay ahead. The test wasn’t just about rankings or recognition—it was a chance to prove, to himself and others, that merit could rise above privilege. It was the first step in his journey to redefine the rules of the game.