Vroom vroom vroom!
The sound of the engine, resembling a horse's hooves, surprisingly came to a stop right in front of my house.
Where the bike halted, a woman in a leather jacket, still on the bike, asked,
"Never seen this car before?"
She was pointing at a 1938 Bugatti parked there, bold as brass.
You know, the one Chairman Dazai of Japan handed over to me.
Perhaps he (Jo So-deok) thought it was a waste to leave it stuck in the garage at Hannam-dong.
I hadn't even asked, but Jo So-deok kindly had it shipped all the way to London.
'His sense is really top-notch.'
I marveled alone at the car just last night.
"Is that your car?"
I nodded.
"Mind if I take a closer look?"
I nodded again.
Wanting a better look, she took off her helmet, and a cascade of golden hair poured out like a waterfall.
It was definitely the woman I'd seen in front of the tailor shop.
Hmm.
Maybe she's the type whose blood boils at the sight of wheels.
She peered at the car with an utterly serious face.
The sleek curves, putting aerodynamics aside.
The tires, reminiscent of airplane goggles, and the elegant wheel design.
She was engrossed in the car, as if admiring a piece of art.
"Bugatti?"
"Yeah."
"For an old vintage car, it's in incredible condition."
"I've only taken it for a test drive, that's all."
"It's a pre-1950 model, right?"
"To be exact, 1938."
"Wow—oh!"
She let out a pure exclamation of wonder.
"Can you pass a message to your father for me?"
"...?"
"I need to know where one can find such a treasure."
She naturally assumed it was my parents' car.
Well, it makes sense, considering I'm not even old enough to have a license.
'Still.'
Hadn't people called her a brat to her seniors?
She'd looked quite tough back then… but when it came to cars, she was no different from any other ordinary girl her age.
She soon picked up her helmet and asked,
"You're a new student at the Royal School, right?"
"How did you know?"
"I saw you once, in front of the tailor shop."
Ah.
Maybe I stood out as the only Asian.
"Wanna ride with me?"
"What?"
"Aren't you heading to the orientation?"
"I am, but…."
She only had one helmet.
She must have read my thoughts.
"If you're worried, you can wear it."
Ha!
She really offered me the helmet.
Naturally, I shook my head.
"It's just around the corner. I can walk."
"Alright, then."
She swept her hair back and put the helmet on.
Then,
Vroom vroom vroom!
She revved up the engine once again.
Vroooom!
And with that, she glided smoothly out of the alley.
It would take me about five minutes to walk, but on a bike, it'd be just 30 seconds, right?
"..."
If only there had been another helmet, hmm.
I swallowed my disappointment and hurried my steps.
***
The campus was so large that it wasn't easy to find the auditorium.
'At least I made it just in time.'
Students were gathered in separate groups.
However, no matter how hard I looked around, Jack was nowhere to be seen.
I'd heard that nobles could transfer straight into advanced classes without even taking exams.
That's why they didn't bother showing up for orientation.
I wondered if Jack was one of them, but I couldn't be sure.
Tsk.
'It's a bit boring being alone.'
As a former novelist, I have a habit of observing people.
It's a small hobby of mine to guess someone's personality by piecing together their usual speech habits and small actions.
Sometimes, I could even develop a few characters that way…
More importantly, it helped me endure these tedious moments.
'Let's see.'
Over a hundred students.
The one who stood out the most was a man in a green suit.
You could call him a social butterfly, I suppose?
He went around shaking hands with each person, like a politician running for office.
His voice was loud enough for his conversations to be heard clearly.
His name was Julian Burnett.
He introduced himself as the second son of the Standard Bank president.
In response, others would give similar answers, saying they were descendants of famous founders or from old, prestigious families…
In the end, their "introductions" were all about revealing who their fathers were.
'Aren't they tired of this?'
They were all so intent on confirming each other's backgrounds.
Eventually, Julian made his way to me.
"Hello, I'm from Standard—"
"Second son, Julian Burnett, right?"
"You know me?"
"I've heard it more times than I care to count."
"But I don't know who you are."
For a moment, everyone's eyes were on me.
The rumor that I was admitted on the Queen's recommendation must have already spread.
Their faces were filled with curiosity, dying to know what kind of connections I had.
"My name is Park Ji-hoon."
"And?"
"That's it."
Julian gave me a sidelong glance, as if representing the others.
"This doesn't seem fair, does it?"
"…?"
"I revealed that I'm the second son of the Standard Bank president."
"Did I ask?"
"What?"
"As I recall, you were bragging about it on your own."
I was merely stating a fact, but he seemed to take it as an insult.
People with a victim complex lead such exhausting lives…
That's when it happened.
"Why the attitude?"
Julian tilted his head and asked.
"Didn't you come here to join forces with fellow highborns? That's why you got in on the Queen's recommendation, isn't it? So why act all high and mighty now?"
Though it seemed like he was talking to me, his words were clearly meant for the onlookers.
Perhaps that's why he came across as a performer in an exaggerated play.
Like an actor consumed by self-love, imagining himself as the lead on this stage.
Smirk.
"You're laughing?"
Normally, at this point, people would lose their temper and try to overpower me physically.
But Julian only glared at me up and down.
"...."
He didn't do anything else.
Perhaps it was the muscle fit.
The suit made his shoulders look broader than they really were.
Not to mention, he was about 10 centimeters taller than me, so maybe that's why.
He seemed to be seething for a moment, but then he suppressed his anger and stepped to the side.
And, undeterred, he continued,
"Hello, I'm from Standard Bank—"
"Don't talk to me."
"What?"
"You're annoying. Get lost."
Oh wow, what a bold move.
The bike girl shot him a look of utter disdain instead of a greeting.
But Julian had a pretty thick skin.
"You're from America, right? Your name is Olivia, the third daughter of designer Ralph Warren—"
"Didn't you hear me? I said get lost."
"...!"
"What? You can't understand me because I'm not speaking in a noble accent?"
She seemed fine in front of the Bugatti earlier.
But now, she was a full-blown tough girl.
Anyway.
Just as Julian's face began to turn red with anger.
Click.
The tightly shut doors opened, and a group of men entered the auditorium.
Thanks to that, Julian and the bike girl's standoff naturally came to an end.
A tall middle-aged man among the group slowly made his way to the podium.
He looked around the auditorium and said,
"Nice to meet you all. I'm Sam, in charge of administrative affairs."
He was probably a school staff member.
He continued speaking like he was playing a recorded tape.
The content was predictable.
He welcomed us to the school, and that today's session was to explain the school rules.
After about ten minutes,
"You all look bored."
The man brought up a rather important topic to change the mood.
"As previously announced, today we will have discussions for class assignments. You will be grouped in teams of five…"
Only then did the students start to show interest.
Of course, I had little interest, but that was to be expected.
'…?'
Olivia, if I remember correctly.
The bike girl also seemed indifferent about the class assignment, her expression saying she couldn't care less.
Heh.
Amusing.
"Your debate opponents will be seniors currently attending Oxford. Rather than focusing on defeating them, it would be better to concentrate on expressing your own thoughts honestly…"
It was right after the staff member explained the debate.
"We're debating… with seniors?"
"And they're from Oxford?"
"Is that even possible?"
While others were buzzing, Olivia and I remained indifferent… again.
After a moment, the staff began to group us into teams of five.
Then they handed out name badges in different colors for each team.
Red, blue, yellow, green, purple…
The badge given to me was gray.
I was the first, followed by a white boy named Peter.
Then… huh?
'Olivia?'
Two people with zero enthusiasm for the debate ended up in the same team.
This might not bode well for the rest of the team.
But then, something completely unexpected happened.
Someone I never thought would receive the same badge did.
The man in the green suit, forcing a stiff smile.
It was Julian.
***
If you've ever seen American movies, you've probably come across those lecture halls with tiered seating in a circular arrangement.
That's exactly where we were headed.
More than a hundred people sat in a ring, centered around the podium.
Soon, the team participating in the debate took the stage and grabbed the microphone.
It felt almost like stepping onto a performance stage.
Across from us sat the senior students who would be our debate opponents.
Next to them were professors, seated to evaluate the debate.
"Let's have the first team prepare for the debate."
For efficiency's sake, it would probably be better to have debates happening simultaneously in three lecture halls.
But for some reason, they decided to gather everyone here, forcing us to watch the other debates.
I guess they considered this part of the learning process too.
"The first topic is history."
As the moderator signaled the start of the debate, Julian, who loved to talk, turned to our team and said,
"See the guy over there? In the white shirt? He's the one who's been rumored to be a genius since he got admitted. He's from Scottish nobility… and of course, he entered Oxford as the top student…"
And his chatter didn't stop there.
As soon as the first team made a mistake, Julian quickly started talking.
"Debating is all about momentum. Even if your logic gets dismantled, if you back down, you're finished. In that case, what you need to do is…"
He immediately launched into a long-winded speech.
As if he were some kind of debate master.
Did he feel the distrustful looks being thrown his way?
"Maybe you don't know, but I've been attending a social club reserved for geniuses for a long time… and my IQ is at least 138…"
But his moment of enthusiasm didn't last long.
Half of the team (that is, Olivia and I) showed absolutely no interest in his words.
So what could he do?
"If you don't have the skills, it's natural to lose interest. Fine, I'll just handle everything myself, and you two can stay quiet like you are now…"
"You in the green suit!"
"…!"
"Yes, you. Do you think it's okay to talk so much while your teammate is debating?"
Only after the moderator's rebuke.
"..."
Julian finally closed his mouth.
TL/n -
Hey everyone!
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