Chapter 166

<The Last Festival (4)>

***

Some people envy and resent those who are doing well.

Even though they are ultimately no different from me, they drown in inferiority, engage in baseless schemes, and pour out curses.

Fortunately, Yeom Byeong-taek, who is mature for his age, was not that kind of teenager.

“Byeong-taek is such a genuine kid. That’s why I keep being friends with him.”

“…Yeah. He’s really mature.”

Even without the testimonies of Jo Seol-chan and Park Sang-ki, anyone would have felt the same way.

In elementary school, he was overshadowed by Park Ji-beom, and in middle school, he naturally gave up his ace position to Son Jin-hyeok. Perhaps Yeom Byeong-taek had realized and accepted the fate of being second best.

“Mature? My mom says you shouldn’t be greedy beyond your means. There was this fool back in her hometown who almost went blind from playing snowball fights with the sun.”

Yeom Byeong-taek, who had recognized his place early on, had no room for emotional scars or feelings of deprivation.

Of course, it wasn’t a voluntary concession.

He just accepted the results after doing his best.

‘What can I do if the results are like this even after giving it my all?’

A record competition unaffected by any logic of power, with publicly recognized numbers—who would dare to argue against it?

Before the 100m finals, the friends sitting on the bench eased their tension with chatter.

“Byeong-taek, you know, just watching those kids run makes me feel so proud.”

“Right. What if? Maybe one day, when Jin-hyeok becomes a national athlete, I can brag that I was on the same team as him.”

“Oh… National athlete.”

Park Sang-ki, who had been tapping the ground with his toes to relax, widened his mouth in awe.

There was a classmate who bragged about having a cousin’s boyfriend’s older brother tutoring a Korea University student. Maybe it’s just human nature to brag about any connection, no matter how tenuous. Even if the connection with Son Jin-hyeok isn’t long, if what Jo Seol-chan says comes true, it would be something to brag about.

“But still, it’s a shame for Byeong-taek. If only he had been a bit faster in the semifinals…”

The old Yeom Byeong-taek was the kind of athlete who would grit his teeth and run, only to be eliminated while watching the backs of other runners. But the grown-up Yeom Byeong-taek almost tied for second and third in the semifinals. That’s why it feels even more regrettable.

Yet, Yeom Byeong-taek remained composed.

“At least I made it to the finals. The top two did. Seol-chan, you’re the one who should feel sorry.”

“Hey, I always get eliminated in the preliminaries. What’s there to feel sorry about?”

Hehehe.

Jo Seol-chan laughed like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“The teacher said that since there are so many kids in our year, there are a lot of athletes too.”

Well, it seemed to mean that there were many peers born in the same year.

This time, even Yeom Byeong-taek didn’t bother to correct Jo Seol-chan.

As long as he understood, that was enough.

[On your marks.]

The highlight of the individual events, the men’s 100m final, was about to begin.

Only the sun was breathing freely.

The scorching heat made the sweat flowing down the sideburns feel refreshing, and even without a single breeze in the dry air, everyone held their breath.

[Set.]

Where Yeom Byeong-taek looked with envy, there was the bent nape of the 94th runner.

He had drawn lane 3 in the lottery.

According to the competition format, the top three record holders were assigned lanes 3 to 5 through a draw.

The lane assignment of the 94th runner wasn’t of interest to the Taeyang Middle School kids.

They weren’t particularly curious about the rankings either.

[Bang!]

The start reaction speed was insane.

Whoa!

Everyone clenched their fists and stood up, regardless of who was first.

Even the heavy-bottomed Park Sang-ki joined in.

“He’s so fast!”

Again, there was no foul signal.

Even without Jo Seol-chan’s shout, everyone could see with their own eyes how fast Jin-hyeok’s start was.

It wasn’t just a quick burst.

It was like a chicken with its tail bitten by a weasel, flapping its wings wildly, but the movements were big and refreshing. Full of power and speed.

“He’s gonna pee his pants!”

“He’s crazy!”

“…Ah.”

How does he even do that?

At that level, it should be a foul, and during the preliminaries and semifinals, coaches from other schools protested. Even the officials doubted their eyes, so the protests weren’t baseless.

But the conclusion was repeatedly that there was no error in the electronic signals and sensors.

The fact that the competing athletes whispered that there was no issue with Jin-hyeok’s start must have influenced the judgment. Even if they didn’t have the courage to interfere in the adults’ meeting, the most sensitive and animalistic athletes raised their hands in favor of the number one suspect. If the most sensitive parties said it was okay, who would argue further?

[Bang.]

Finally, the 94th runner crossed the finish line.

Just as Yeom Byeong-taek and Jo Seol-chan were about to run towards their friend who had recreated past glory, a strange man with shiny gold teeth intruded onto the track.

“Whoa!”

Yesterday, he was too flustered to enjoy his first gold medal as a coach, so today he decided to let loose and shout.

Move aside, you fools!

It was Lee Byeong-se.

***

Jin-hyeok’s expression wasn’t bright.

Yoo Jin, who reacts even to farts, was confident in her reaction speed to the starting gun. He had pushed ahead from the start and was used to running while thinking of the chasers behind him, so he didn’t doubt his victory.

But.

‘Damn, was it just wishful thinking? Am I still not fully adapted to my body?’

Is it true, as someone said, that my legs have grown longer and the power transfer isn’t complete?

I had hoped that the tension of the finals would turn into desperation, that I could pour out all my strength.

‘It’s frustrating.’

It’s like sitting on the toilet with a stomachache that feels like it’s about to burst, but only a fart comes out. It’s like punching a brick wall with all your might, only to find out it’s a styrofoam wall with a brick pattern—utterly contradictory sensations.

“It was around 11 seconds.”

Min Yong-rak’s words didn’t even register.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the congratulations, so he shared the joy with everyone by shaking hands.

‘Because I’m not the main character.’

It was enough that his friends were happy. The guys who laughed and shouted as if it were their own achievement were more precious than the gold medal.

He quenched his thirst with an ion drink from the icebox and looked forward to the afternoon.

“It’s not over yet. Let’s take care of our condition.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There’s still the relay final.

We’ve come this far, so we can’t be satisfied here.

***

“How do you run like that, Chairman?”

“I don’t know? I’ve been doing it like this since I was a kid…”

It was as if their tones had switched.

For some reason, Park Sang-ki asked clearly, but Jin-hyeok couldn’t find a proper answer and mumbled. It was the result of always worrying about posture, not straining his body, and thinking about how to efficiently exert power.

If I were to explain it in words, it would just be words.

Anyone could say that.

“Maybe you could shorten your stride.”

It was Park Sang-ki’s cautious suggestion.

Since the usually quiet kid showed interest, Jin-hyeok was also intrigued.

“When I play soccer, I run a lot with short steps.”

Jin-hyeok nodded, meeting Park Sang-ki’s eyes.

Most cases of showing off speed while racing against opponents are during counterattacks following long balls. In a typical game, you compete with opponents, dribble, and pass, so you naturally take shorter strides.

“Your long stride is probably because you have breathing room and excess power. Running with short steps makes it tricky to maintain a breathing rhythm, but you can move your legs as much as you want. It’s hard to explain since I’m not good with words.”

Not right away, though.

Jin-hyeok thought he should consider Park Sang-ki’s suggestion and think about adjusting his stride and step count. After all, Min Yong-rak was systematically recording for that purpose.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll have to slowly correct it.”

A wide stride puts a lot of weight on the front knee, but it also causes a lot of power loss. So, Jin-hyeok had already adjusted his stride. But to Park Sang-ki, it still seemed wide.

A soccer player with well-coordinated training to elevate reaction speed to an animalistic level and move the body at will. It was worth considering his insight.

“Chairman, your legs are long, and your thighs and ankles are strong, so you can take wide strides…”

No, this guy, after seriously pondering, now this, now that.

***

The stadium before the last event of the final day.

Contrasting emotions floated in the air.

Hundreds of athletes, ready to leave, watching with relief, and thirty-two athletes, tense and prepared.

The calendar would soon turn, but the sun was still hot, and the air was dry.

Throughout the competition, athletes here and there were suffering from nosebleeds or complaining of dizziness.

Jin-hyeok, trying to relieve the fatigue in his shoulders by placing his hands on his waist, exhaled deeply to regulate his body temperature and looked at Min Yong-rak.

“There’s no medical team today either.”

Only coaches were seen plugging athletes’ noses with gauze soaked in cold water and placing wet towels on their foreheads or necks. There was a medical support tent, but it was empty, and there was no ambulance nearby.

“Should there be?”

Min Yong-rak tilted his head while jotting down notes in his notebook.

“Isn’t it essential? It’s a matter of life and death.”

The weather itself was a pain, so even in casual conversations, he had to furrow his brow. Jin-hyeok tried hard not to let each word sound unpleasant.

“Developed countries all do that, I heard. The SI Foundation should also recruit medical experts. You never know when an accident might happen.”

No matter how healthy a person is, a heart attack could cut off blood supply to the brain, leading to lifelong disability or death.

I remember such incidents happening in soccer and baseball, causing a stir. They talk about professional sports, national sports, sugarcoating and packaging, but the actual organizational and systematic support for athletes is lacking.

“Yeah, the chairman would like that. The more we gather and reflect on-site voices, the more we can show the foundation’s sincerity.”

“So it doesn’t just look like a money show like other places?”

“Not exactly, but it’s said that even if we become famous, we’ll get less criticism that way.”

Jin-hyeok smiled silently and touched his forehead.

A casual question had brought a typical Yoo Se-ra answer.

‘Still, Auntie—no, Mother—donates a lot to help the underprivileged and cares about marginalized groups.’

Jin-hyeok, as before, didn’t care much about the world or others in this life either. But he also didn’t have the honest desire to just eat well and live well. He had already lived alone, lived a sufficiently successful life, but only the realization that it was truly insignificant and meaningless remained.

‘If I had lived and died alone, who would have remembered me?’

It was a life that could be lived without regret, but now that he had created bonds and was living together, the past life seemed relatively lonely.

Of course, in front of acquaintances who argued that it was because he didn’t know how to enjoy life, he had to keep his mouth shut.

‘Please stop with the harsh truths.’

Waving his hand—, he scattered those who were now fading from memory into the heat haze. Those who never reached out to do anything together but had a lot to say.

Min Yong-rak, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, filled his notebook with notes.

“Then let’s add a medical team too.”

Life is precious.

Regardless of whether the level of intelligence and thought falls short of producing desirable results, most human intentions are pure, and Jin-hyeok wanted to believe that. Even if reality isn’t like that.

So he hoped that no life would be lost in vain.

From the past to the present, it’s a consistent belief.

“Medical team, talent discovery, development, and what else is needed?”

Forgotten by Lee Byeong-se and the kids, Min Yong-rak continued questioning while reviewing his notes. But the meeting ended with Jin-hyeok’s hand subtly raised, smiling leisurely.

“Let’s do it next time.”

Because he had to hang out with the friends who would burn the last of their energy.

[Shortly after, the final event of this competition, the men’s 400m relay final, will begin. Participating athletes, please proceed to the starting area.]

***

Lee Byeong-se, Min Yong-rak, and the Taeyang Middle School team were the only ones not buzzing in the crowd.

It was because of the 94th runner in the blue uniform at the starting line.

It was odd since he was the first runner, not the anchor.

[Lane one.]

Perhaps to commemorate the successful competition, the announcer’s voice was full of energy as he introduced the finalist teams. Or maybe it was the relief of finally escaping the hellish heat and going home.

[Lane six, Taeyang Middle School.]

Jin-hyeok, who had raised his hand sharply, clenched his fist.

Whoa! Clap clap clap.

The youthful voices and the clapping hands. It was a modest response, but it was enough.

After all, it was a greeting to the young juniors.

‘Watch closely.’

There was no time to adjust his stride as Park Sang-ki suggested, but I’ll show you a first runner like no other.

He turned his head and made eye contact with the waiting second, third, and fourth runners. No words were needed. Sometimes, a look is enough.

[On your marks.]

Isn’t the anchor supposed to be a straight-line specialist?

Nonsense.

200m is half curves anyway.

A good runner doesn’t care about the course.

Just like how a truly smart student doesn’t care about subjects, whether it’s liberal arts or sciences.

[Set.]

If that guy also has superhuman reaction speed.

[Bang!]

By the time the other competitors lifted their heads, that guy was already off.

Like now.

Whoa!

Sometimes, it’s okay to hope for a fluke.

Every sport has variables. Whether there’s time to recover from mistakes caused by variables determines how much those variables affect the outcome.

Then, in track sprints, where the outcome is decided in just over 10 seconds, variables must have an absolute impact.

‘Try chasing me!’

The cheers are secondary. If some competitors lose their pace while chasing my back, good. If not, whatever. Surely, some will get flustered and lose their breathing rhythm.

The sensation of almost bursting but not, the power that hides and makes you restless—it doesn’t matter.

The fact that there are many memories to recall makes running enjoyable for Jin-hyeok.

Like Choi Mi-kyung, for example.

‘Catch me if you can!’

At the end of the gently curved track, a friend was reaching out his hand.

The one who endured hellish summer training together.

The second runner, Park Sang-ki, came into view.

His wide eyes looking at the ace were filled with awe.

Ah, you city kid. Stop watching and start running.

Thud.

Snapping out of it, Park Sang-ki ran off, the baton securely in his hand.

“Run!”

Show us the straight-line breakthrough of a winger!

Park Sang-ki revealed his inner thoughts before his straight-line breakthrough skills.

“Jeong-hwa! I love you!”

Oh, that crazy guy, really.