The next morning, Jim Mu returned to school.
The classroom door slid open quietly.
The teacher stopped speaking for a moment.
Every head in the room turned.
Whispers spread almost instantly.
"That's him…"
"He finally came back."
"Why was he absent?"
Some girls near the window covered their mouths as they whispered to each other, smiling openly.
Jim Mu noticed the looks immediately.
He had forgotten how things used to be.
Back then he had been extremely popular.
Partly because he was handsome.
Mostly because he was frighteningly intelligent.
The classroom had never been a competition for him. He solved problems faster than anyone else. Sometimes he even corrected the teacher's mistakes. During exams, while others struggled with the questions, he finished early and sat quietly waiting.
Even when he was still a junior student, he occasionally solved problems meant for seniors.
That reputation had spread through the school quickly.
The teacher folded her arms.
"Jim Mu."
Her tone carried both relief and irritation.
"Why are you only returning to school now?"
Jim Mu gave a calm expression.
"I was sick, ma'am. The doctor told me to stay home and rest."
The teacher narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Then why didn't the school receive a letter?"
Jim Mu answered immediately.
"I thought my uncle would send one."
The blame shifted neatly away from him.
The teacher sighed.
"Well, the principal left instructions. The moment you return to school, you must visit his office first."
Jim Mu nodded.
"I understand."
He turned and left the classroom again.
The principal's office was at the end of the administrative hallway.
Jim Mu knocked softly and opened the door.
Inside, a middle aged woman sat across from the principal, speaking anxiously.
Jim Mu quietly stepped inside and waited near the door like a student was expected to.
The office itself was neat and formal.
A large wooden desk sat in the center. Framed certificates and awards covered the walls behind it. A tall shelf held files and old academic trophies from past competitions.
The principal sat behind the desk.
He was a tall man with sharp features and neatly combed hair that had begun turning gray. His posture was straight and disciplined. Even while sitting he carried the presence of someone used to authority.
Many students found him intimidating.
Jim Mu used to be one of them.
But not anymore.
A television in the corner of the room was quietly broadcasting the news.
Smoke filled the screen.
A massive building burned as emergency sirens screamed in the background.
The footage switched.
The President of the United States appeared on the screen.
George W. Bush stood behind a podium, his expression firm.
"Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings," he said, "but they cannot touch the foundation of America."
He paused briefly.
"These acts shattered steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve."
Jim Mu watched the screen silently.
September 11.
He remembered this moment clearly.
To the people of this time, it was one of the most shocking tragedies in modern history.
A defining event.
But Jim Mu could not help the faint smirk that appeared on his face.
Dangerous.
Yes.
But small.
Compared to what was coming.
The world did not yet know the horrors waiting ahead.
Wars without rules.
Cities erased in seconds.
Machines hunting humans through burning streets.
The disaster of 9/11 was nothing compared to that future.
Most of the people alive today would never live long enough to see what was coming.
Jim Mu exhaled quietly.
He regretted that he had.
The woman in front of the desk finished speaking and stood up.
"Thank you for your time, principal."
The principal nodded.
She left the office, closing the door behind her.
The room fell quiet.
The principal finally looked at Jim Mu.
Jim Mu lowered his head slightly out of habit.
The man leaned back in his chair.
"Do you know how important the competition is?" he asked.
Jim Mu remained silent.
The principal continued.
"This is not just about the school's reputation. It is your future as well."
His voice carried firm conviction.
"You already won the district level."
"You won the provincial level."
"Now you will represent North Gyeongsang against the best students from every province in the country."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Seoul students usually dominate the national stage. But I believe you can beat them."
Jim Mu listened quietly.
In his mind he finished the rest of the story.
Win the national competition.
Represent Korea in Asia.
Travel to India for the continental stage.
Win again.
Then go to Washington.
The path that had shaped his entire life.
The principal continued speaking passionately.
"If you win the national level, you will represent Korea across Asia. And if you succeed there, you will go to Washington."
He paused.
"For our school, even reaching the national level would already be a victory."
The principal cleared his throat.
"I have already spoken to the teachers and the board."
Jim Mu raised his head slightly.
"You will not need to attend regular classes for now."
"You can stay home and study. Focus entirely on preparation."
He waved his hand.
"You may even skip the school exam if necessary. You will pass regardless."
The principal looked directly at him.
"I want your full attention on the competition."
Jim Mu nodded slowly.
"I understand."
A few minutes later he returned to the classroom.
The teacher had already left.
The moment he stepped inside, several girls rushed toward him.
"Where were you?"
"Were you really sick?"
"Did you go to the hospital?"
One girl leaned forward with exaggerated concern.
"You look thinner."
Another laughed.
"You always look good."
Jim Mu listened quietly as the questions piled up.
He almost laughed.
He had forgotten this feeling.
Being surrounded by energy.
Being young.
In his previous life, people treated him very differently.
They spoke carefully.
Respectfully.
Even the people who hated him hid it behind polite smiles.
Power had that effect.
But here, everything was simple.
And a little ridiculous.
One girl asked seriously, "Did you miss us?"
Another said, "You probably missed the math class."
Jim Mu replied calmly, "That's the only class worth missing."
Several girls laughed.
Then a rough voice interrupted.
"Hey. Bookworm."
Three boys approached.
Jim Mu recognized them immediately.
They were among the worst bullies in the school.
Their favorite hobby was humiliating weaker students.
One of them stepped closer.
"Why are you just coming to school?"
Jim Mu looked at him calmly.
"That's none of your concern."
The boy's face hardened.
"Oh?"
He leaned closer.
"Is it because you have Min-jae protecting you?"
Jim Mu answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
The answer was blunt.
The boy's eyes narrowed.
"So you think you're untouchable?"
Jim Mu met his gaze.
"If you have the courage, attack me."
He spoke calmly.
"But be ready to regret it."
For a moment the boy looked like he might actually swing.
Then he stepped back with an irritated click of his tongue.
"Don't worry," he said coldly. "Your turn will come."
The three of them walked away.
Jim Mu watched them leave.
Then he quietly laughed to himself.
It felt strangely refreshing.
Once upon a time he had been one of the most powerful men in the world.
Now he was arguing with school bullies.
In his previous life, nobody dared to speak to him like that.
Even enemies used careful words.
Here, someone had just threatened him in the middle of a classroom.
For the first time in days, the future felt distant.
And the present felt alive.