Peter quickly left the room.
A school only for nobles.
A fallen noble who sold off even his castle but couldn't let go of past glories, forcing himself into a place he didn't belong.
It was obvious he'd become a laughingstock.
That's why his biggest worry was his roommate.
"Phew."
Peter let out a sigh of relief.
'I'm glad he seems to have a good personality.'
Even with a recommendation from the Queen herself and a top-ranked assignment, it would have been understandable if he had acted arrogant.
"..."
Park Ji-hoon seemed to be quite easygoing.
More than anything…
'He's the only person who didn't change his expression when I talked about my game…'
While walking and pondering various thoughts, the school administration office came into view.
'Alright, since the roommate situation seems fine, let's solve this issue first.'
Knock, knock. Creak.
"I'm Peter, a first-year student."
Maybe because the entrance ceremony was just around the corner, the administration office looked very busy.
"What brings you here?"
A female staff member, who appeared to be one of the lower-ranked employees, looked up and asked.
"I'd like to apply for a work-study scholarship."
"Is it because of the required volunteer hours?"
"No, it's literally for the scholarship."
"A scholarship?"
Perhaps the children of wealthy families didn't need school support. The staff member seemed to find the word "scholarship" rather distant.
"Hold on, let me check."
She headed toward the team leader's office.
After a short while, the staff returned, smiling brightly, as if she had received a positive answer.
"There actually is a work-study scholarship program."
"..."
"It's been so long since anyone applied, I didn't even realize it still existed."
"So, can I do it?"
"Well, there's a problem."
"A p-problem?"
"All the cleaning, repairs, and organization are already taken care of by a contracted company, so there's not much for you to do."
"But if I could help out, the workers might have an easier time…"
"What did you say your name was?"
"Peter. Peter Vindt."
"I'll add you to the list for now. If anything comes up, I'll contact you. You can head up for now."
"But what if nothing comes up for the whole semester…"
"I'll find something for you, like shoveling snow or organizing the garden. Don't worry, just head up."
Only then was Peter able to bow his head.
"Thank you."
"Oh, wait."
"Yes?"
"Have you been on a TV show before?"
"A TV show?"
"You know, when you were little. In front of a big chalkboard…"
Right at that moment—
"Jessica, how long are you planning to chat with a student?"
A sharp voice came from behind.
The female staff member flinched in surprise, then quickly spoke to Peter.
"Sorry, I have to go."
She hurriedly disappeared, leaving Peter standing there, unable to move for a while.
'You know, when you were little. In front of a big chalkboard…'
The staff member's words lingered in his ears for a long time.
***
All I had were a few pieces of clothing.
After hanging them roughly in the wardrobe, I left the room immediately.
There was still plenty of time before the entrance ceremony, so I thought I might as well explore the school.
I had only walked for about a minute, admiring the paintings hanging in the hallway, when—
"Where are you going?"
A familiar voice.
It was Jack Grylls.
Had he finished unpacking already?
Earlier, Jack had come with a military duffel bag packed to the brim.
Wiping the sweat from his chin, Jack asked, "Going for a workout?"
"Nah, just thought I'd look around."
"Wanna check things out together? While running?"
A chuckle escaped.
He just couldn't sit still for a second.
Luckily, I liked running too.
"Let's go."
"Wait a sec, I'll just change my shoes."
Jack's room was 3103.
Through the wide-open door, I could see his roommate.
'He's wearing a ruffled shirt?'
You know the type.
A ridiculously elaborate noble outfit with large lace at the collar.
He's wearing that while lounging around?
'He's the complete opposite of Jack.'
Even the room's atmosphere said it all.
One half looked like a soldier's quarters, while the other was decorated like an elegant salon.
'They're practically like oil and water.'
Compared to that, what about my roommate?
All he had was a single computer…
'He's practically an angel, an angel.'
Anyway.
Jack, looking completely carefree, stepped out of the room.
"Let's go."
Outside the dormitory was a sprawling garden.
A wide path shaded by numerous trees.
Without needing a signal, we both started running.
The most striking feature was the statues.
They were probably famous British figures.
The first ones we saw were royalty, marked by their large crowns.
After them came a line of ministers holding books, and beyond that were soldiers on horseback.
Next were the artists.
Books, sheet music, art supplies, and so on.
By the time the parade of artists, each holding their tools, came to an end—
Whoosh! Ah!
A massive fountain as large as a lake appeared.
The fountain was adorned with cherubs blowing trumpets, and when the water shot high into the air, faint rainbows could sometimes be seen.
'It feels like a completely different world.'
It was as if we had stepped into 18th-century England!
Tat-tat-tat! Tat-tat-tat!
Perhaps the surreal landscape made us forget our fatigue as we kept running without stopping.
Finally, as we approached a four-way intersection, we glanced at each other.
Where to go next?
We headed toward the river.
A pair of swans.
And four little cygnets trailing behind them.
A group of upperclassmen rowing in the distance, trying to avoid the swans.
Even amidst this pastoral scene, we ran for quite a while before finally catching our breath.
"Now that we're warmed up, how about hitting the gym?"
"...."
I'd noticed this back in Korea, but Jack doesn't know the meaning of moderation.
Once he gets started, he doesn't stop until he's completely done.
The problem is, he gets started all the time.
The even bigger problem is that I can't just laugh it off either…
"Sure. Why not? Let's do it."
***
Maybe we overdid the leg workout.
"...."
My legs are shaking like crazy.
Regardless of my condition, the entrance ceremony seemed to drag on forever.
Maybe it was because this school catered to nobles.
Not only families but also extended relatives came in droves, making the auditorium feel like a concert hall.
The one who took the stage as the freshman representative was, unsurprisingly, Tennessee Grosvenor.
After Tennessee finished his oath—
"Wah—ah!"
Clap clap clap clap! Clap clap clap clap!
The response was overwhelming, like after an orchestra performance.
It made the rest of the incoming students feel like mere extras.
'Yawn.'
Not that it bothered me much—I've always been pretty indifferent to such things…
But I wasn't the only one who felt that way, apparently.
Jack was, of course, dozing off while standing, and Olivia spent the entire ceremony sketching in her notebook.
Is it high self-esteem?
Or are they just uninterested in school affairs?
Anyway.
Clap clap clap clap! Clap clap clap clap!
Thunderous applause rang out again, signaling that the long and dull entrance ceremony was finally coming to an end.
Sure enough.
Relatives who had been sitting in the seats flooded onto the auditorium floor.
Flashes of cameras went off in all directions.
'Must be nice.'
All I wanted was to crash on my bed.
I was about to head back to the dorm when—
"Park Ji-hoon!"
A voice called out from behind me.
It was Olivia.
It wouldn't have been a big deal if it was just her.
But standing beside her was a middle-aged man in a brown jacket, beige shirt, and chocolate-colored tie, looking right at me.
'Huh?'
The basics of men's fashion are navy and gray.
If you want to mix it up, you can go for olive or khaki.
But brown? That's tricky.
It's a color that looks simple but is difficult to pull off.
Yet this man managed to pull it off perfectly, with a flawless tone-on-tone combination.
In that moment, I knew.
'This guy isn't just anyone.'
And I was right.
"My dad wanted to meet you," Olivia said.
"I've heard a lot about you from my daughter," the man said.
Which meant…
This man was none other than Ralph Warren, the designer who represents the U.S.!
I shook his hand and introduced myself.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Park Ji-hoon."
"I've heard you've got a firm grip on the East Coast distribution market."
"The West Coast isn't all that different either…" I replied.
He burst into laughter.
It was the kind of laugh that told me he'd just figured out everything he needed to know about me.
"What's that supposed to mean, Dad?"
It seemed Olivia and her father hadn't coordinated beforehand. As she looked between Warren and me, Warren turned around.
A man who appeared to be his assistant brought over a large shopping bag.
"This is a small gift," Warren said.
"…Pardon?"
"I heard my daughter received some help from you."
Inside the shopping bag was a purple jacket.
"Actors often request outfits for award ceremonies. This one was designed for Harrison Ford. I guess I'll have to make another one soon," Ralph Warren added with a sheepish smile.
"It might feel like a bold color to wear casually, but it'll stand out at a party. A simple black outfit with a purple jacket will make you the center of attention."
"Is it really okay for me to accept something like this…?"
"Of course, absolutely." His voice was firm.
"A friend took care of something I should have done as a father. Frankly, just giving you a jacket feels inadequate to express my gratitude."
"I didn't really do much, though."
"If my daughter was helped, then that's all that matters."
Hmm. Well, if he insists.
I bowed my head slightly to show my appreciation.
"I hear you've got a strong grip on the distribution networks on both coasts. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other often."
"That was half a joke," I replied with a smirk.
Warren gave me a long look, his pleasant smile completely devoid of any suspicion.
Just then, Olivia stepped in gracefully.
"We've taken up too much of your time. Dad, let's go get something to eat. My friend needs to rest too."
It seemed like everyone's parents had arrived.
Olivia, Jack, and even Peter were all with their families.
Normally, I wouldn't care much about things like that, but…
'I guess it does make me feel a bit awkward.'
As I hurried away, I spotted a very familiar face at the entrance to the auditorium.
"Boss!"
I had never been so happy to hear someone speak Korean.
It was Jo Soo-deok, and he was holding a bouquet as large as a floral wreath, as if determined not to be outdone by anyone.
"..."
Suddenly, my joy faded, replaced by embarrassment.
But I was still mostly happy to see him.
"What brings you here?"
"What do you mean? You're starting school! I dropped everything and rushed over."
"Aren't classes about to start soon?"
"I wanted to see you so badly that I've moved my address to the UK!"
"Oh, come on…"
"I'm serious."
"...?"
We moved to a different spot.
Thankfully, the school had a large café.
Since we were speaking in Korean, there was no chance anyone around would understand us.
Jo Soo-deok updated me on everything that had been happening.
"So, you're working as a research professor at King's College?"
"That's right. The chairman must have been worried, so he even provided me with a house."
Wow, Park Ji-hoon. You've got your grandfather wrapped around your finger…
Our conversation then moved to something I was particularly happy about.
"How about we divide responsibilities? Baker will handle sports-related matters, and I'll take care of everything else."
"Sounds perfect to me."
Jo Soo-deok immediately jumped into a report about an abandoned factory project.
He had contacted a city-owned factory since it needed repurposing anyway.
Even in the UK, his efficiency in handling things was remarkable!
"It'll still take a few months, though," I said.
"Shall I try to speed things up?"
"No, no. There are procedures to follow. We'll adjust to their timeline."
After a short pause, I continued, "How about you take some time to rest and adjust?"
"Rest? As a research professor, I don't even have to teach. I just need to hold a solo exhibition within three years, and no one will bother me…"
"You should still take it easy."
"Come on, you know I get restless when I'm not doing something!"
"..."
"CEO, don't you know me by now? I'm the type who gets fired up when there's work to do. Just give me something, anything…"
"Well… should I, then?"
"Sorry?"
"It's much better for you to be fired up than sitting around feeling aimless."
"Y-yes, of course. That's definitely a hundred times better, haha."
Jo Soo-deok pulled out his notebook.
"I want to open a pop-up store in that factory. A shop that will only operate for a limited time."
"Ah."
"So, I want the first store to be particularly special…"
"You've already got something in mind, haven't you?"
Nodding, he replied, "Just say the word. I'll persuade the brand and bring them on board immediately."
"There's no brand."
"Then do you want me to find a designer?"
"Something like that."
"As long as I know where the designer is based, I can…"
"They haven't started working yet."
"Excuse me? What do you mean by that…?"
"They're so new, there's hardly any information on them."
This was an utterly absurd request.
Yet, Jo Soo-deok didn't seem to question it.
Perhaps it was because he'd been given a similar task before.
Like when he was asked to find an architect with a specific painting in Boston—a seemingly impossible mission.
And the result?
'We ended up discovering an unpublished work by da Vinci.'
Maybe the memory of that day came back to him.
Gulp.
Jo Soo-deok's throat bobbed noticeably.