No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

#005 – The Giant (3)

Genius.
That’s what they used to call me.
A musical prodigy.
A future luminary who would bring glory to Korea.

The magnitude of my fall was just as great.

“Haah…”
I lay in bed, staring at my phone for hours, scrolling through articles about “Kevin Jung.”

The Fall of a Prodigy Once Called the Reincarnation of Paganini: Mental Illness Speculated…
International News: ‘Little Giant Kevin Jung Attempts Suicide,’ Breaking Report…
Kevin Jung’s Mother: ‘He Will Sever All Ties with Music’…

The media had been obsessed with Kevin Jung.
But all they did was sensationalize how that brilliant boy had collapsed so catastrophically.
None of them offered any real insight into the cause.

Speculations about mental illness were rampant.
Beyond that, there was no information about what had happened to him afterward.

“Kevin Jung… Kevin Jung…”
I scratched my head.
The name felt familiar, but at the same time, it didn’t.

I usually just listened to classical music and didn’t care much about the performers.

“Tsk tsk…”
Why would an eleven-year-old child make such an extreme choice?
What kind of inner demons had he been battling?
Could the incident that led to this comatose state be related to that?

I had initially thought it might have something to do with school violence…
But no matter how much I scoured the internet, I couldn’t find any answers.

“I can’t exactly ask President Jung or his wife about it either…”
The frustration was mounting.

To live as this person, it felt like I needed to know more. But I had no idea how to go about it.

For now, it seemed like I needed to act before things got more complicated.

Tock—tatock.
I extended my finger and sent a message to Choo Minji on KakaoTalk.

Are you up?

Then, I added a cute emoji, one that seemed appropriate for students.

The younger guys I used to hang out with always said that using emojis—no matter your age—was a must when texting women.
I picked one carefully, feeling oddly satisfied with my choice.

It didn’t take long for Choo Minji to call me back.

“Hello, you’ve reached me.”
As soon as I picked up, I heard her burst out laughing on the other end.

She laughed so hard she was gasping for air, eventually catching her breath and speaking in a teasing tone.

Hey, where did you even find such an old-fashioned emoji? Did you actually pay for it? Or was it a gift? If someone gave it to you, cut ties with them. They’re clearly messing with you.

“…It’s late, so let’s get straight to the point.”

It’s only eleven.

“Yes.”

What, do you have to go do some gang business with your buddies?

“Let’s skip the nonsense and talk about—”

You’re calling about the video, right? Don’t worry, I already took it down. I noticed some comments asking if you were Kevin Jung, so I deleted it before it caused any trouble.

“Thank you.”

Thank me? Please, I’m the one who owes you. Anyway, about the ad revenue from the video, I’ll give it to you in about two weeks.

“Revenue?”
How could such a video even make money?
I didn’t want to take a kid’s pocket change.

“I don’t need it.”

Come on, just give me your account details.

“I said I don’t need it.”

Tsk. Don’t test me, kid.

“Then just give it to me in person.”

What do you mean? You want it in cash?

“Yes.”

…Are you serious?

“I don’t even have a bank account.”

Hmm, fine.

“See you tomorrow.”

I ended the call and got out of bed.
I was about to head out to exercise when I heard faint voices from the master bedroom across the living room.

It was Father Jung and his wife, deep in conversation.

“Honey… what are we going to do? We still need to send Seojoon to college…”
“The company… it’s still struggling…”

As I often notice, this body’s hearing is exceptional.
Even with two closed doors between us, I could hear their conversation clearly.

Seojoon must have spent his life overhearing all sorts of things as well.

I was about to quietly turn the doorknob when I heard the sound of Mrs. Jung sobbing.
“Sniff… sob…”

“Hmm.”
Without realizing it, I found myself focused on their conversation.

Money.
As expected, that was the issue.

Father Jung’s company had nearly gone bankrupt after failing to meet promissory notes on time.
He had been desperate enough to sell off all his shares and even come to me for help.

“What to do…”
Now, these people were my family.
I couldn’t turn a blind eye.

The morning air had grown much colder.
It was now 6:30 a.m.

It might seem too early to start the day, but not for me.
From the moment I woke up in this body and left the hospital, I hadn’t skipped a single morning workout.

“Huff… I’m dying… dying here…”
This body was frail.
It had a good frame, but that was about it.
It was weak, as if it had never exercised a day in its life.

Aligning with my philosophy that you need good health to do anything, I prioritized building this body’s stamina.

“Well, it’s definitely close.”
I straightened up on the stone wall, stretching my back.
From here, I could see the house where I used to live.

A two-story house surrounded by high walls.
Currently, my nephew, Baek Junsoo, was living there alone.

“What a ridiculously tall wall…”
I had to get inside.

The reason was money.

Last night’s conversation between Father Jung and his wife had pushed me to act.

In my former life, I might have been able to solve the root problem, but now, everything was out of reach because of my death.

The only thing I could rely on was the hidden safe in my old house, filled with unclaimed valuables.

“Tsk.”
I had decided to sever all ties with my past life when I resolved to live as Jung Seojoon. But here I was, about to cross the line.

Well, it’s for my new family, so just this once won’t hurt, right?

“Hmm…”
However, there was a problem.

I had thought it would be as simple as sneaking in, but now that I was seeing the house with my own eyes, I realized I had overlooked something.

I was no longer President Baek.
Therefore, this wasn’t my house anymore.

I didn’t have the fingerprint or keycard access to get in.
What was I supposed to do?
Just… tell Junsoo the truth?

“……”
No, that wouldn’t work.

Junsoo wouldn’t believe me, and even if he did, he wouldn’t let me in.

He resents me, blaming me for what happened to his father.
He might even hate me to the point of outright hostility.
He might have been glad when I died.

“Huh?”
Just then, a light turned on upstairs.

It was coming from Junsoo’s room.

“That kid’s up early.”
No wonder I had never run into him before.

I had waited to see how he was doing, even if it was just to catch a glimpse of him, but my school schedule always forced me to leave before I could.

For some reason, living as a student feels even more exhausting.

By the time the school day had ended…

Being alone with Teacher Seo Sooji for the first time was… surprising.
I’d always been surrounded by students, but now, being with a woman not so different from my former self felt oddly nostalgic—like I’d returned to my youth.

“Can I… ask you something?”
Teacher Seo’s tone was calmer than usual.

“Of course. Ask away.”

“Why did you quit music?”

She didn’t beat around the bush.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know the answer myself.
While I hesitated to respond, she was the one to backtrack.

“Sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

Her face was full of curiosity.
Considering the wild rumors about me being a gangster or worse, she probably thought I was an odd case.
Maybe she even assumed the mental illness speculation was true.

“By the way, are you planning to start playing music again?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“That’s great. Actually, back when I was studying for exams, I watched your videos countless times. You were so tiny, yet so talented.”

She gave me a brief once-over.

“You’ve grown so well.”

“Indeed. Sometimes I surprise myself when I look in the mirror.”

“Ah… anyway, I’ve told the students to keep quiet. I don’t want rumors spreading around the school causing trouble for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright then, head home. Once you bring me your parents’ consent form, I’ll have you classified as a music major for university prep. If you need a place to practice, I’ll arrange it.”

“Understood.”

“Anything else you want to ask?”

“Just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Do you… have a boyfriend?”

…

I found myself practically thrown out of the auditorium.

“Man, she’s got a sharp tongue.”

Crossing the schoolyard to console myself, I spotted the container storage area tucked in a blind spot.

Sure enough, Choi Pilwook’s gang had claimed it again.
About a dozen of them were surrounding a male student.

Though the distance made it hard to see clearly, the student appeared to have something dumped all over him. Judging by the colors, it was paint, like last time.

From the snippets of conversation I could make out, they were forcing him to use the paint on his body to draw on the wall.

“Those trashy bastards…”
My expression hardened.

Just as I felt a surge of unfamiliar meddlesome energy, someone smacked me on the back.

“Don’t get involved.”

It was Kim Bom.

“Don’t get involved? Weren’t you the one who dragged me to them in the first place?”

“I was just doing a favor.”

“From what I hear, you’re friends with them.”

“Did Choo Minji unnie say that?”
Kim Bom frowned briefly before her face relaxed again.

“If being friends means using each other, then sure, I’m friends with them. Want to be friends with me, too?”

“I’d rather not get entangled with you.”

“Too bad. I’m the concertmaster, so you don’t have much of a choice.”

“Hah…”

Realizing further conversation would be pointless, I quickened my pace.

Then, a thought crossed my mind, recalling our trip to the auditorium the day before.

“Let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Yesterday, you asked me if I was Kevin Jung. Did you already suspect it?”

“That’s right.”

“How?”

“I…”
She paused for a moment before continuing.

“I saw you playing Fantaisie-Impromptu alone in the auditorium the other day. That’s when I knew for sure.”

“Ah… So that’s why you suddenly started acting like this without even apologizing?”

“Yeah, it’s fascinating. Kind of like meeting a celebrity, you know?”

“…….”

Was she being honest or just plain rude?

“Forget it…”
I ignored her and kept walking, but then shouts filled with curses erupted from the direction of the storage area.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked,
“Who’s the kid back there?”

“Choi Pilwook? A future thug with nothing to lose.”

“No, the one covered in paint.”

“Oh… right. Just some unlucky kid who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“How’d it come to this? The teachers can’t possibly be unaware.”

“Dunno about the teachers, but Choi Pilwook has it out for that guy. Lately, he’s been even worse. Supposedly, the kid laughed at him or something.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Of course it is.”

What a piece of garbage.
Once again, I resolved to avoid getting involved with him.

…..

Jung Seojoon hoped rumors about him wouldn’t spread. At least not until he understood the circumstances surrounding Kevin Jung.

He was relieved that the school had been quiet so far.

But outside of school, the rumors were spreading like wildfire.

In the city symphony orchestra’s practice studio, two men sat inside a large room filled with percussion instruments.

“What did you need to tell me that couldn’t wait?”

“Bass instructor, is it true?”

“What is?”

“That Kevin Jung appeared at the school where you teach?”

“Oh no… Who told you that? I said not to say anything….”

“I just overheard. But is it true?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, incredible. I can’t believe he’s still in Korea.”

“Listen, Kevin doesn’t want any attention, so we need to keep this quiet for now.”

“Of course, of course… But next time you go for a lesson, can I come with you?”

“What? Why?”

“Who knows? Maybe Kevin’s interested in cello?”

“Ah, you didn’t hear? He’s already learning bass.”

“So what? He’s a genius. He can probably play any instrument.”

“Good grief…”

“Anyway, I’ll treat you to a meal. Just introduce me to him, okay?”

While the two were having their hushed conversation, another pair of ears was listening in real time.

“Kevin Jung…? You’ve got to be kidding me…”
A woman resting behind the percussion instruments slowly pulled out her phone.

With deliberate care, she began typing on the screen.

Professor, it’s me. I have some incredible news. Can we meet for a moment?

A reply came shortly after.

I don’t do private meetings.

A clear rejection, but the woman smiled faintly.

“Really? What if it’s about Kevin Jung?”

It’s about one of your former students. Aren’t you curious?

Who?

Kevin.

Her phone immediately started ringing.

The caller was the same piano professor at a Korean university who had just rejected her.
Known for their arrogance, the professor was now calling her first.

“This is going to be chaos.”
She stifled a laugh as her mind raced with calculations.

How could she subtly involve her students preparing for entrance exams in this opportunity?

“Maybe I’ll meet Kevin Jung myself.”

Exactly five days later.
Without any formal announcement, several principal members of the city symphony orchestra—some of the best musicians in Korea—gathered at the regular high school to observe.