Chapter 142 - The Fall (1)

1

One day.

"The videos have been pretty scarce lately," my girlfriend said.

"Huh?"

"The Kim Yul videos. You used to circulate at least one a week, even when you were running late. Are you taking longer because you're carefully selecting your [works]? Quite a few people in our group are waiting for the next installment. That nail-cutting video last time got a pretty good response."

Her expression was impassive. I briefly furrowed my brow at her words.

'Videos. Right. I filmed all the bullying of Kim Yul with a camcorder.'

But why had I done that again?

["I'll wait. Kim Yul. Director."]

Why had I...

[Your current immersion rate is 100%.]

...

Oh, right. I remembered.

That was it.

'I filmed them to give the others something to watch.'

Sinseo Middle and High School was packed with the children of prominent local figures. It was a prestigious school. And because it was prestigious, these children from distinguished families were forced to behave impeccably, which put them under tremendous stress.

Some relieved that stress by leading the bullying, but that was risky. Most of these children had no intention of taking things that far. I provided [Kim Yul videos] for kids like them.

It was quite a serious operation.

[Director, I'd like a scenario where you cut his nails with scissors!] -J

[Please make him grow his hair out and wear it tied with a yellow rubber band.] -7

[The kids in the last video did nothing but hit him. It wasn't very satisfying....] -11

Our school had something called the Student Council Grievance Box. It was a submissions box for sending notes or letters directly to the student council, but I used my girlfriend to put it to a slightly different use.

The so-called [Kim Yul Request Box].

Even the teachers left the student council submissions box alone. No one thought it was strange. Even if someone was caught putting a note into it, that wouldn't be a problem. My girlfriend had been active in the student council since her first year, so she could regularly manage the [Request Box].

It was a simple little idea, but...

'Even I have to admit, I'm pretty smart.'

It was a huge hit.

The young ladies and gentlemen of distinguished families developed a taste for the appeal of joining in the bullying with virtually no risk. The request box even guaranteed anonymity. They submitted requests under playing-card initials like A, K, Q, and J.

[I'd like a scenario where you do nothing but slap his face for twenty minutes.] -Q

Q was my girlfriend's initial.

[The shabby clothes are nice, but I'd like to see him in something else now and then!] -7

7 was the head of the broadcasting club.

[Director, I enjoyed your latest video as well. I thought making Kim Yul speak respectfully was a brilliant idea. In my opinion, Kim Yul's popularity stems from his strong pride. Therefore, unlike certain patrons who enjoy physical humiliation, I firmly believe a psychological approach is preferable. Director, the body should serve strictly as a symbol or metaphor for that psychological approach....] -2

The freak who kept dropping these lengthy reviews into the submissions box was some little bastard in a middle-school band. Crazy fucker. He used 2 because he had a terminal case of edgy eighth-grader syndrome.

Of course, even a crazy, edgy little bastard was a different story if he was the son of someone running a company with serious local clout. That made him a valued customer.

The so-called [Playing Card Club] consisted entirely of customers like that.

Secretly satisfying their sadism. Vicarious gratification.

I maintained my position by providing my customers with entertainment. Ever since I started filming my works, more and more "friends" had begun looking out for me, openly or otherwise. Yes. That was how I'd met my girlfriend, too.

Without something like this, how could I possibly date a rich young lady?

I didn't have a record of winning writing contests since middle school like Mom and Dad. Nor did I have a pretty enough face to make a living as a singer like my older brother.

For someone like me to climb the pyramid, I needed tribute to offer the people at the top.

"Sorry."

And so I apologized for the delay in my tribute. I, too, wondered why I hadn't been filming Kim Yul videos lately. There was no particular reason to stop. But a plausible reason soon came to mind. Coming up with reasons like that was one thing I was very good at.

"You're running for student council president. I figured I'd hold back a little during the election."

"What? You were being considerate of me?"

"We should be careful. Someone might submit something weird...."

"Well, well. Our director has a cute side after all."

Her eyes curved upward as she stroked my head.

"I like a puppy who knows how to read the room."

She was blatantly treating me like a dog, but I didn't mind. Instead, I performed a trick for her.

"Woof, woof. Woof! Arf, arf!"

"Pfft."

At last, my girlfriend laughed. I was the only person in this school who could make her laugh. I bent my legs like a dog and bounced up and down.

"You know that, Hwang Eunseo? You're really funny."

A funny guy. Those words proved my worth.

A guy who was fun to be around. A guy who always had everyone doubled over laughing. The social butterfly among social butterflies, who set the mood.

Dating on looks alone, like my brother did, had its limits. Real romance depended on how well you could run your mouth....

["I have been waiting, Gongja."]

...

I furrowed my brow.

What was that?

[Your current immersion rate is 100%.]

My mind went blank again, if only briefly.

Was I imagining it? I seemed to be zoning out more often lately.

"Anyway."

I swallowed.

"I'm taking a break from filming for a while. No point making trouble for ourselves by showing off. If any of your friends complain, just tell them I'm pacing things because Kim Yul might stop coming to school altogether if we bully him any more...."

That was when it happened.

-This is an announcement from the broadcasting club.

A voice came over the school speakers. A familiar voice. It belonged to the broadcasting club president, member 7 of the Playing Card Club. Though it sounded less energetic than usual, perhaps? There was something uneasy about the tone.

-Hwang Eunseo, Class 5, second year. Hwang Eunseo of Class 5, second year, please report to the broadcasting club room immediately. I repeat. Hwang Eunseo of Class 5, second year, please report to the broadcasting room immediately.... That is all.

Then the speakers fell silent.

My girlfriend looked at me.

"Is something wrong?"

I put on an equally bewildered expression.

"I can't think of any reason they'd call me to the broadcasting room...? The faculty room, maybe."

"If it's the broadcasting club president, maybe it's just something personal. Asking why there haven't been any new releases lately."

"That kid's a little crazy," my girlfriend muttered.

"Go on. I'll head off on my own."

"Okay. Thanks."

After a moment's consideration, I kissed her cheek.

I'd done a pretty good job of fawning over her today. My lie about being considerate of her had worked, too. A kiss on the cheek would probably be allowed. Above all, I had a duty to provide her—and the people around her—with the fantasy of a [school couple].

As if she'd read my calculations, my girlfriend snorted.

"How cute."

Rejoice. The princess had smiled again.

"I'm off. I'll text you later and tell you what happened."

So, you see, I was far smarter than the other students.

As I walked down the hallway, I graded my performance that day. Had I made any mistakes in my relationships? Had I said anything in a strange tone? Had I made the others laugh just enough, and laughed along just enough myself?

The result?

'Another perfect day.'

Full marks.

'That's me, all right.'

I had talent. A knack not just for bullying someone, but for turning that bullying into a game. Once these upper-class kids had discovered this kind of fun, they'd keep seeking me out even in college. They might even invite me into their exclusive little league.

'Even if they don't invite me, that's fine.'

They'd remember playing some slightly nasty pranks with me during their school days. My girlfriend would probably dump me around the time she entered college, but she'd still remember the old boyfriend who had once entertained her. Hwang Eunseo would remain a memory they could smile about forever. That alone was a huge gain.

Unlike the students who were just muddling along, I had a roadmap for my life.

'First, become a film director.'

I didn't need to be a huge success. I'd make a few indie films and build a decent career and network. That would become my calling card. Nobody disliked an anguished young director.

'And then?'

I'd introduce up-and-coming actors to the upper class. Then I'd become a sort of party designer, satisfying the young gentlemen and ladies in inventive ways just as I did now. Since my older brother worked in entertainment, I could branch out into that world, too.

'Good.'

A golden life.

I was on a completely different level from the idiots who blindly studied without any clear goal and only thought about their careers after getting into college.

A different level.

"I'm coming in."

RATTLE

I opened the broadcasting room door.

The moment I stepped inside, I stopped short.

"S-stop."

"..."

The broadcasting club president was alone in the room. Nothing strange about that. The room had soundproof walls and thick curtains hung all around it. Nothing strange about that, either.

"H-Hwang Eunseo."

But if the broadcasting club president was holding a camcorder and filming me with it, then something was strange.

"Close the door."

"..."

"Hurry. Close the door. Or you're in b-big trouble."

The broadcasting club president was trembling like a cornered rat. I didn't know why, but nothing good would come of provoking someone in that state. I quietly closed the door.

"Draw the curtain."

I drew it.

"N-now turn around and face me."

I turned around.

"Hwang Eunseo, Class 5, second year. Y-you threatened me... and forced me to join in bullying Kim Yul from Class 5, second year. Right? S-say it's true."

"... Is this some kind of hidden-camera prank?"

"Shut your mouth and say it's true!"

The broadcasting club president was genuinely trembling. A sense of foreboding swept over me. Normally, I would've joked, How am I supposed to talk with my mouth shut? But I couldn't. I was rattled.

"I don't understand what's going on. You need to talk to me."

"Y-you approached me first. I said I didn't want to... but you lured me in, saying you had something fun and asking if I wanted to watch. Right? That's what happened. So it's all your fault!"

This wasn't normal.

"What are you talking about? You heard about the videos going around the club and came to me. You asked me to let you in, saying you'd connect me with the middle-school kids, too. Why are you suddenly...."

"No! That's not true!"

The broadcasting club president's face went pale.

"It's your responsibility. It's your fault, Hwang Eunseo. You said we'd never get caught. You said anonymity was guaranteed. You said you'd take responsibility. S-so why is there a video with me in it!"

"No, I mean, what have you been talking about this whole time...."

"I only appeared once!"

Appeared.

Occasionally, some customers in the club wanted to appear in person. Rather than watching on video, they wanted to enjoy things live, on-site. If I remembered correctly, the broadcasting club president had indeed appeared once.

"Wait a minute. Are you acting like this because you're afraid a video might've leaked? Don't worry. After we passed them around, we destroyed all the videos—"

"Stop bullshitting me!"

The broadcasting club president's expression twisted viciously.

"You son of a bitch. You crazy fucking punk. I-I should never have trusted a bastard like you. Say it. Say you tricked me into joining! Or I'll tell everyone what you people did!"

"..."

"Say it! I have to record this and send it!"

What a lunatic.

I felt I shouldn't stay here any longer.

"Sorry. But I can't admit to something I didn't do. That would go against my conscience. I showed you the videos because you asked me to, and while I've thrown them all away now, I still have every note you put in the submissions box. I don't know why you're acting like this, but let's talk once you've cooled down."

I turned my back.

The broadcasting club president let out a groan.

"S-stop right there! Don't go. Don't go, Hwang Eunseo! Y-you're finished if you leave! Really finished! I'll tell the other kids and ruin your life! Don't you understand? Hey, Hwang Eunseo! You son of a bitch! You're finished! Your life is over! Just watch, I'll tell my parents and your life—!"

RATTLE

As the door closed, the broadcasting club president's voice cut off. Absorbed by the soundproof walls and muffled by the curtains, the screaming reached me as little more than a low, humming vibration. No one was passing through the second-floor hallway.

"Fuck. What the hell?"

I spat out a curse.

"Nobody throws a fucking fit like that for no reason."

Maybe a video really had leaked. There was no guarantee that one of the customers hadn't made a copy and kept it. Someone could have used it to blackmail the broadcasting club president.

"Damn it."

They said keeping customers was harder than getting them. They were right. I took out my phone and called my "customers" one by one.

RIIING

The ringing dragged on. After continuing for a while, it timed out and stopped.

"What?"

Suppressing my mounting anger, I called the next customer. I intended to ask if they knew anything about why the broadcasting club president was making such a scene.

RIIING

The next customer didn't answer, either. School had just let out. It briefly occurred to me that they might be on their way home and unable to answer. I calmed myself down and called the next customer.

RIIING

But that customer didn't answer my call, either.

"..."

Nor did the next.

"..."

Twelve people in all, excluding my girlfriend.

Not a single customer in the Playing Card Club answered my calls.

'What the hell?'

Foreboding engulfed me.

It felt as though a shapeless hand had seized the back of my neck.

'What the hell is going on?'

Without thinking, with a vague sense of Surely not, I called a classmate who wasn't a customer. If I was the director, this friend was my secretary. This friend handled delivering videos to the customers and collecting them afterward on my behalf.

RIIING

That friend didn't answer my call, either.

"..."

Only then did I realize.

Someone was trying to hunt me down.