INV 45

In a countryside full of mountains, rivers, and affection, Gwak Deukcheon grew up as a sturdy lad showered with family love, and from a young age, he was exceptionally different.

Until age eleven, he lived quite “quietly.” “Quietly” in this context means that while he displayed all the signs of genius, he didn’t cause any trouble outside the house.

One day, his father almost fainted when he saw the boy scribbling Hangeul on the dirt floor despite never being taught, but the reply he got was that the boy had mastered Hangeul back when he was still crawling. Mr. Gwak found it hard to believe, but since his wife reacted with a strangely calm “I see,” he simply assumed there must be a genius in her bloodline.

However, while studying at a leisurely pace, he mastered the Thousand Character Classic at age three and the Elementary Learning at age five.

His father was so overwhelmed by this unbelievable genius that he made a fuss, saying he should go up to Gyeongseong immediately and look for a university spot. Of course, Mr. Gwak was serious, but Gwak Deukcheon still considered it a mere display of ridiculousness.

But in these times, with the Japanese colonial period still ongoing, was it even possible for a man with strong patriotism like Mr. Gwak to pull strings just to send his son to university?

At five years old, Gwak Deukcheon was smart enough to analyze the mechanical relationship between the speed at which his father’s cigarette case emptied and the headlines of the morning daily newspaper. So, instead of immediately devouring the Four Books and Three Classics after that, he made a polite request.

“How joyful a thing it is simply to have been born into this world. A lifetime is too short even if one only indulges in the bliss of being alive every day; I do not wish to reek only of ink, Mother. Please give your son just two years to mimic the life of a romantic young master.”

As soon as Kwon Yihyeon heard this, he collapsed to the floor and began to laugh as if sobbing. It was an incredible statement for a five-year-old to make! Moreover, since it didn’t seem like something a child with such clear eyes—unlike the adult Gwak Deukcheon with his panda-like dark circles and dead-fish eyes—would say, Kwon Yihyeon laughed until he almost cried. But for some reason, Chacha did not laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile; he simply spoke.

“Sometimes, those with only a single life possess a certain sharp agility. I thought I knew, but he is even more than that.”

“What does that…?”

“He likely didn’t consciously realize it. Yet, did he know his fate would be wretched? It would be nice if he could stay in the peace of a veranda bathed in warm sunlight until his life ends, but perhaps he sensed he couldn’t. It is no different from beasts that sense a coming earthquake with their innate instincts and move quickly. The survival instinct of lowly creatures to protect their one and only life… is something one can never catch up to, no matter what one does.”

A sigh was buried in Chacha’s voice. It was not the fierce, cold tone Chacha had used until now, nor a flirtatious and violent growl; it was a voice steeped in mercy for someone. Only then did Kwon Yihyeon realize the meaning of those words and felt a grief that made his heart feel as if it were collapsing.

“I suppose that little child is trying to experience a life he will never be able to enjoy in the future.”

“…”

“He saw a future where storms would strike. Even if he didn’t consciously realize it, he guessed. He has eyes that have realized what he must carry and what he must fight through. Eyes that know what he must throw away, what he must give up, and what he must resign himself to for that sake. What did he see? Did he recognize his own destiny of living a wandering life even when he holds his parents’ funerals?”

“…”

“You shall live a life just as frosted with sorrow.”

Kwon Yihyeon really didn’t want to do something as stupid as becoming immersed in his boss’s past history—it’s a fool’s errand to build internal intimacy all by oneself—and yet…

“He likely won’t dare to guess when or how the peace he has grasped will be taken away. It would be natural for him to tremble, suffering from an absurd terror that the ground might give way just by breathing out. And yet, he says it is a joy to be in this world? That he is happy? He is truly extraordinary. To want to relish being alive day by day, to want to live—even just once—a path he can never tread forever. In the distant future, that man will look back on this moment and think: it was enough because I enjoyed myself then. Is it to cast away resentment? Is it a requiem only for himself? No, no. This is… a funeral.”

“…”

“How could that genius not know? That if he puts his mind to it, he can do anything. And yet, that he must do nothing. It is not my place to say, but receiving a god is a very heavy and arduous task. He has received the talent to do anything, but it is the same as having his hands and feet bound. Nevertheless, he says he will accept that fate himself. So he must hold a funeral. As a living person, he must bury the version of himself that might have left a great mark on the human world. He must comfort him. Only then.”

Chacha paused for a moment, and Kwon Yihyeon reflexively finished Chacha’s sentence.

“…Can he live out the rest of his life.”

Their eyes met. In that moment, just as one’s shoulders are soaked by a sudden rain shower, they vividly felt with what emotions they had spoken and heard those words.

It was hard to look at him any longer. Chacha lowered his eyes, only the corners of his lips turning up. Elegantly, yet bitterly.

“…That’s right. A funeral is ultimately a ritual for the living, so it is like killing oneself to save oneself. It started as cheap curiosity, but it has become a somewhat intriguing story. This man’s life.”

Having been granted two years of freedom, Gwak Deukcheon showed off his genius under the colorful eaves, writing poetry and painting orchids, claiming he would enjoy the arts. Scenes of him garnering people’s admiration by boasting talents in different fields each year passed by like a fast-forward, and occasionally, a glimpse of him sitting on a veranda with a figure who looked like a peer appeared.

It looked like his first friend in life, though it wasn’t clear when they were made. However, that friend was an unusually blurry shape, making it impossible to even tell the color of their eyes. When Kwon Yihyeon flinched for a moment at the sight that looked like swirling chaos, Chacha, wearing a subtle smile, draped an arm around his neck and lightly touched the area around his eyes.

When Kwon Yihyeon came to his senses, two years had passed just like that.

During the days he played at being a romantic young master, Gwak Deukcheon occasionally took an interest in modern things, such as studying foreign languages. However, he personally stepped forward and expressed his desire to basically follow the educational system used in Joseon’s private academies or local schools. It was truly fortunate that his mother knew the books, so there was no need to call a separate tutor.

In this era, it was quite convenient for a brilliant existence like him to be trampled by the Japanese colonial period.

Ms. Gwak and Gwak Deukcheon had reached a tacit agreement.

Even if it couldn’t be helped that rumors of him being a genius might spread to some extent, let us ensure that he never proves or demonstrates it in front of anyone, no matter what happens.

If rumors must spread, let us rather highlight his time as a romantic young master. Orchid paintings or classical poetry might be fine. Anything beyond that is dangerous—like that.

Thus, from the moment Ms. Gwak properly warned the men of the house not to speak recklessly.

Gwak Deukcheon began his “Confucius says, Mencius says.”

“This bastard… this person, no, the Team Leader is living life all on his own.”

“Badmouthing your superior. If I tell on you, will you get fired?”

“You must not know how the world works because you’re an elder from ten thousand years ago, but employment contracts and labor laws aren’t that easy these days. You can’t just fire anyone easily. I might become a conspicuous intern, though. One rumored to be a madman.”

“It seems you’ve already achieved that.”

He mastered the Great Learning at age eight, the Analects at age nine, and Mencius and the Book of Changes at age twelve—this was because after reading Mencius, he said he felt he needed to return to the Analects once more to navigate the space between the lines with a different depth than when he was younger, so he learned the Analects all over again from the beginning. He mastered the Doctrine of the Mean and the Book of Rites at thirteen. To put this in perspective, the age one usually entered a local school was sixteen, which was when one started learning the Elementary Learning, but Gwak Deukcheon had finished all of this before then.

If there was a saving grace, was it that his human relationships were narrow? No, maybe it wasn’t a saving grace. Kwon Yihyeon sincerely compared Gwak Deukcheon’s current appearance with this bright-eyed version of him and suddenly felt sad.

His whole body felt itchy because that angelic face was so insanely awkward, yet he wondered how he had ended up in this state…

“Is this how God feels looking at a former angel who fell and became a demon?”

“First of all, the expression ‘former angel’ is truly interesting. I have no memory of hearing such a word combination in ten thousand years.”

“Ah. Is that so…”

Even when Gwak Deukcheon was sent out for excursions, he didn’t make friends. It was largely because the rich man’s son in expensive clothes acted bluntly, making it hard for the local kids to approach. Above all, it was also difficult to find someone on Gwak Deukcheon’s level.

Is that why? Gwak Deukcheon looked very happy being with that unusually blurry-shaped friend.

But at some point, the screen faded out, and suddenly, a teenage Gwak Deukcheon popped out.

It seemed the “defense mechanism” Chacha mentioned earlier had activated, cutting out the middle content.

And from then on, the precocious, calm, and bright-eyed Gwak Deukcheon…

“Head to the floor.”

“…”

“Won’t you put it down? You punk?”

Finally, he returned as the “Gwak Deukcheon” we know!

“Ah, this is it! When it comes to Gwak Deukcheon, you can’t leave out his personality flaws…!”

When the scene of Gwak Deukcheon supervising a physical punishment was broadcast, only then did Kwon Yihyeon happily clap his hands.

Only Chacha wore a faint smile.

“I’m starting to worry that I might have corrupted you…”

“You should have had those worries back when you were trying to play me for sympathy.”

Since it sounded correct, he decided not to offer a particular rebuttal.