WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Chen
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Incarnation of the Malevolent Star ◈
Chapter 114: Part 1 - Whispers of the Dark Brother (114)
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#114.
From last autumn until now, on the verge of the new school term, mathematics teacher Song Gyeong-a had often felt a chill when watching English teacher Lee Eun-jeong.
She felt it especially strongly whenever that English teacher, black to the core, showed how deftly she handled the parents.
‘...Look at that. I told you she’s no ordinary person.’
Eun-jeong handled the parents so well that, if one watched closely, it was like watching a kindergarten teacher with the children of the Sunshine Class.
“Of course! My husband and I aren’t like those low-class parents!
These days, there are far too many uncivilized parents ruining children’s education with absurd complaints!”
One parent had said this while beaming like a child and chirping like a baby bird.
When Song Gyeong-a heard it, she had been truly dumbfounded.
‘What, did she get brainwashed? Has Lee Eun-jeong started using hypnosis too?’
There was a good reason Gyeong-a thought so.
That parent had a history of making things difficult for the science teacher with an “absurd complaint” early in the winter-break rural study program.
#
At the time, this was what the parent had called the teachers’ office to protest.
“Excuse me, Teacher! My child told me you had the children make and eat dalgona candy as a science experiment during today’s experiential-learning activity?
How does making and eating dalgona count as a science experiment? That’s just a snack!”
“And have you considered the children’s health? Dalgona is terribly unhealthy! It’s practically a lump of sugar, junk food!
How could you feed something like that to children? Don’t you have any sense of responsibility as a teacher?”
“And what about hygiene? Is it really hygienic to make food with laboratory equipment?
That equipment must have been used with harmful chemicals in other classes!
What if even a little remained and got into the children’s mouths?”
Though the call was not on speakerphone, the parent’s sharp voice carried loudly enough for every teacher in the quiet office to hear.
Song Gyeong-a immediately remembered the sweat soaking the science teacher’s forehead.
She also remembered the violent earthquake in the teacher’s eyes.
From what Gyeong-a had seen, the science teacher was the type to be intimidated into barely being able to speak when faced with forceful complaints.
(Most parents never file a single complaint throughout their child’s entire school life.
That meant any parent who did file one had to rank high in aggression.
Among them, the kind who called the school directly or even came in person possessed combat power on another level.)
Once again, Eun-jeong was the one who defended against the complaint.
With her usual gentle manner, she held out a hand to the science teacher.
“Teacher. If you don’t mind, may I take that call for you?”
The science teacher, who had already looked half-dead, hurriedly handed Eun-jeong the receiver.
The look of relief on the teacher’s face was a bonus.
For some reason, Eun-jeong switched the call to speakerphone rather than continuing privately.
Then, without the slightest sign of tension, she offered a gentle greeting.
“Hello, ma’am. This is Lee Eun-jeong. I teach English, and I’m also in charge of the experiential-learning activities.”
A brief greeting. Her title and name.
That alone changed the tone of the voice on the other end.
“Oh? Ah, yes. Hello, Teacher. What is this about...?”
“I thought it would be better if I answered your questions, so I took the call. I read the proposal for that experiment as the head of the research department.
After I went through it all, I even thought, ‘This will make a good lesson.’
So, would it be all right if you spoke with me?”
“Uh, yes. That’s fine.”
Facing the parent, now gentle as a lamb, Eun-jeong used her characteristic soft, quiet voice to explain the purpose of the lesson.
Song Gyeong-a had made a great effort to imitate Eun-jeong’s gentle softness at times like this.
But Gyeong-a’s imitation never measured up to the original.
Eun-jeong’s kindness truly came from her heart.
“First, ma’am, it’s only natural that you’d question the value of the lesson.
At a glance, making dalgona looks very simple, as though there’s nothing much to it.
You only melt sugar over heat and add a little baking soda. Isn’t that right, ma’am?”
“Yes, yes! That was exactly what I didn’t understand.”
“But that simple process contains many scientific principles children can find fascinating.
Why does white sugar turn light brown when it melts? And why does it puff up when baking soda is added? Things like that.”
“Ah...”
“To adults like you and me, those things aren’t surprising, nor do we wonder about their principles. We’re simply too familiar with them.
But good education should be viewed from a child’s perspective, shouldn’t it, ma’am?”
“That’s right. We should view it from the children’s perspective.”
“When I think of my own childhood, I remember finding it truly fascinating.
I remember watching the dalgona puff up and going, ‘Wow!’ with my friends. Don’t you have memories like that, ma’am?”
“Hmm... It was so long ago that it’s hazy, but now that you mention it, I think it may have been like that... Yes. It was. That’s right.”
“Combining that wonderful experience with curricular learning.
Stimulating the children’s curiosity, encouraging their desire to investigate through self-directed experiments, and laying the foundation for creative development.
That was the heart of the dalgona lesson our science teacher planned.”
“Oh my...”
“It’s a wonderful purpose, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Hearing you explain it, Teacher, it does sound wonderful.”
“As you know, when melted sugar turns brown, we call that caramelization.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And somehow, steam appears in the process too.”
“Uh...”
“When we show children that and ask, ‘Sugar has no water in it, so why is steam forming? Steam appears when water boils, doesn’t it?’ that’s usually where the children begin to be curious.”
“...”
“Then they want to know why. Their desire to investigate is truly awakened.
The more those kinds of stimuli build up, the more their independent and active learning ability is strengthened.”
Every gentle, softly delivered explanation Eun-jeong gave was included in the lesson plan the science teacher had prepared and Eun-jeong had reviewed.
The science teacher had written that although sugar did not contain water, its molecular structure included oxygen and hydrogen that could form water.
The science teacher had also written that when heat was applied to sugar, it broke down into fructose and glucose, and oxygen and hydrogen combined in that process to form water.
The science teacher had further written that as moisture escaped, the density of the remaining material, especially carbon, increased and the color changed.
From white to yellow. From yellow to brown...
“...There’s so much that can be taught enjoyably to children through something as simple as melting sugar, ma’am.
It’s effective education because they’re still at an age when they find it fascinating. If we miss this time, we’ll never be able to stimulate their curiosity as strongly as we can now.”
Eun-jeong continued without pausing once, with clear logic and crisp diction.
Hearing that warm voice, which she could never imitate, Gyeong-a felt a heavy shock.
‘She was always good at teaching with words... but she memorized all of someone else’s lesson materials? Ruthless bitch. She’s truly ruthless.’
It was natural enough for Eun-jeong, as head of the research department and its working-level coordinator, to read another teacher’s lesson plan.
But memorizing every detail was an entirely different matter.
Gyeong-a clicked her tongue inwardly in disbelief.
‘How obsessed with work do you have to be to manage that? How strong is her ambition to rise? How badly does she want to become even more famous than she already is?
She really is insane...’
Eun-jeong’s motivation was not ambition but deep affection for her most precious student.
But there was no way for a vulgar mathematics teacher to know that.
And how intelligent could Eun-jeong possibly be? Eun-jeong taught English, while Gyeong-a herself taught mathematics.
Wasn’t mathematics intellectually superior to English?
That was why Gyeong-a had felt goosebumps then.
But the truly remarkable part came afterward.
When explaining the hygiene issue, Eun-jeong did not speak at length.
“And, ma’am, you don’t need to worry about hygiene. I checked that in advance, together with our science teacher.”
I checked it. So don’t worry.
Ordinarily, such an explanation would never work.
When a parent called the school to file a complaint, it usually meant their heart was already full of hostility.
Gyeong-a knew that from experience.
Yet Eun-jeong’s explanation worked.
“Oh my, I see.”
The parent on the speaker replied in an extraordinarily mild voice.
“If you checked it yourself, Teacher, then I can rest easy. I worried for nothing. Ho ho ho.”
Gyeong-a was dumbfounded.
The “ho ho ho” was the most absurd part.
It was not a natural laugh. It was the flattering sort, made to show affection for someone and win their favor.
Wasn’t flattery something the lower person offered to the higher one?
In the same flow of conversation, Eun-jeong also soothed the complaint about feeding the children junk food with astonishing gentleness.
“Dalgona isn’t a nutritionally healthy snack.”
“Exactly. That’s why I was worried.”
“But, ma’am, this kind of hands-on learning is more effective when it stimulates all five senses evenly.
Seeing it with their eyes, feeling it with their fingertips, smelling it, and even tasting it themselves are necessary processes for developing a child’s intelligence and emotions together.”
“Ah...”
“And the more joy a child feels from their own experience, the more the educational effect improves.
It remains in their memory longer, and it also stimulates their desire to investigate more strongly. They explored something for themselves and found that it was enjoyable.”
“So... you mean experiencing something delicious was necessary?”
“That’s right, ma’am. You understand exactly.
Our science teacher gave it a great deal of thought. There aren’t many delicious foods students can make for themselves through an experiment.”
“Oh dear. If that’s the case, I suppose it can’t be helped. It’s not as though they eat it every day.”
“Thank you so much for saying that. Our science teacher will be happy too.”
“Ho ho ho. Please don’t thank me. I’m worried I bothered you for no reason.”
“What are you saying? Not at all, so please don’t worry about it.
If it were up to me, I’d like to speak with you longer, but I’m sorry I don’t have much time because I need to do my best preparing the children’s lessons.”
“Oh my, oh my! Then I mustn’t take up any more of your time! Thank you so much for kindly speaking with me. I’ll hang up now.”
“I should be the one thanking you again, ma’am. I look forward to seeing you at the next field trip.”
That was how Eun-jeong ended the call smoothly.
At first glance, it might have seemed that Eun-jeong simply handled the complaint well through kindness and logical explanation.
But that was the perspective of people who knew nothing about schools.
Parents who filed forceful complaints were not people who could be reasoned with.
When these fierce people first filed a complaint, they had already decided what answer they wanted to hear.
That answer was unconditional apology and submission. There was no other answer.
No, it was not that there was no other answer.
They simply would not accept one.
They filed complaints and called because the act of throwing their weight around was the real goal.
They were people who felt a dark pleasure and satisfaction in making others grovel before their words.
Gyeong-a understood that feeling well.
She had the same kind of desire herself.
So when a new teacher who knew nothing of the world asked whether kindly responding to parental complaints with reason and common sense would not resolve matters, other teachers could only laugh bitterly.
“Reasoning with them? With a parent who’s already angry? Oh dear, you really don’t know the world...”
When a teacher tried to offer a logical explanation, the average response of a complaining parent was this.
“Are you arguing back at me right now?
I’m the parent, and I’m angry. I’m telling you there’s a problem! Then of course you should apologize!
The fact that you’re speaking at such length means you’re unhappy with me, doesn’t it? Isn’t it?”
...Those were the insults Gyeong-a had once had to endure in real life.
At another school, before she transferred here.
The absolute power imbalance between parents and public-school teachers was equally absolute even for a cruel-hearted mathematics teacher.
This was simply common sense for every teacher in the country.
Yet Eun-jeong alone had escaped that twisted common sense.
To ordinary people who did not understand the circumstances, it might not look particularly impressive.
But to fellow teachers, it was an enormous thing.
That was why Song Gyeong-a felt as if she had become a supporting character in an all-ages common-sense alteration story, watching its protagonist.
‘Can something really end like that? She even slipped in a jab at the end by saying she didn’t have time to talk anymore.’
That was right. To Gyeong-a, Eun-jeong had dared to rebuke the parent.
Had she not said it directly?
That she lacked time because she had to do her best preparing the children’s lessons.
In other words, she could not talk with the parent any longer.
Foolish men were astonishingly incapable of understanding this kind of delicate and sophisticated language women used.
But from Gyeong-a’s perspective as another woman, it was an obvious hint if one was not an idiot.
The parent should have noticed it several times over.
And yet the parent laughed warmly and let it pass. That was truly abnormal.
If it had happened only once, she could somehow have accepted it.
“That parent was a rare natural treasure,” or, “She got lucky this time.”
The truly unreal part was that every parent Eun-jeong dealt with acted this way.
Without a single exception.
As though they had all been hypnotized.
This could not happen simply because Eun-jeong was a famous teacher.
Fame was a double-edged sword. It could turn into a weakness in an instant.
In this fierce country, where everyone was furious at everyone else, why did so many famous people spend each day watching their conduct as if walking on a blade?
Because they knew their fame could drag them into ruin overnight.
That day, this was not the only thing that startled Gyeong-a.
‘Come to think of it, why did that bitch turn the call to speakerphone in the first place?’
After the call, Eun-jeong stood there with her hands folded demurely, looking like the kindest person in the world.
She stood smiling with slight embarrassment as the science teacher thanked her.
The other teachers, aside from Gyeong-a, were busy crowding around Eun-jeong and praising her.
Even the principal and vice principal behaved like sycophants.
Wherever Eun-jeong stood became the center of the teachers’ office...
‘Ah. That was why.’
The unpleasant mathematics teacher’s insight had unexpectedly touched the truth.
Eun-jeong’s action had been so trivial and natural that the other teachers did not pay attention to it, but it had been a choice to enlarge the mirage surrounding her.
‘She’s black to the core. Completely black inside. Why can’t anyone else see that?
That meek, innocent act is all fake modesty. They’re all blinded by their infatuation.’
Since when had it begun?
Witch Lee Eun-jeong had hypnotized not only the parents, but also the teachers and other school staff.
As the hypnosis deepened day after day, the people at school had now become desperate to make a fuss and praise Eun-jeong for anything she did.
Gyeong-a was the only one who remained fully sane.
She found the atmosphere deeply irritating.
She found it especially irritating when some teachers and staff distanced themselves from Gyeong-a in order to get closer to Eun-jeong.
‘What loyal handmaidens they’ve become. Just a few months ago, they were gossiping about that bitch with me all the time.’
Gyeong-a had stopped managing her reputation at school in the latter half of last year, but that did not mean she had cut herself off entirely from the other teachers.
Most teachers and staff were women.
Women’s delicate social exchanges were fundamentally different from men’s single-celled interactions.
And women’s gossip was more refined than men’s low-class gossip.
(This was Gyeong-a’s opinion.)
So Gyeong-a regularly exchanged gossip about Eun-jeong with several staff members who were “not close, but close enough.”
Those staff members did not gossip because they disliked Eun-jeong.
Rather, being able to gossip about close people with those who were not close was women’s natural superiority.
Was it not the way of human life that yesterday’s friend could become today’s enemy, and today’s enemy could become tomorrow’s friend?
Therefore, even with someone very close, one had to identify their negative sides and weaknesses. And even with someone one disliked, it was beneficial to act friendly and maintain the relationship on the surface.
‘So I can change sides and join hands with them whenever I need to.’
Only by living smartly in that way... could a person suffer a little less loss and be stabbed in the back a little less in this harsh world.
In short, social interaction among women was a quantum-mechanical interaction in which “closeness” and “not being close” could overlap and exist at the same time.
The result could change each time it was observed.
Men, with their classical-mechanics way of thinking, naturally could not understand the principles of this profound cloud of probability.
In any case, the brainwashed corruption of those who had once secretly criticized Eun-jeong with Gyeong-a sharpened her nerves.
‘...Those people will gossip about me now whenever I’m not around. They’ll cling to Lee Eun-jeong, wagging their tails and trying to win even a little more of her favor.’
When two or more women were observed in a state of emotional covalent bonding, there was a high probability that they would gossip about another woman who was not present. This was practically a self-evident law of physics.
(To emphasize again, this was Gyeong-a’s thought. Everyone understood, measured, and judged others according to themselves.)
And that “other woman” would inevitably be mathematics teacher Song Gyeong-a.
If so, the gossip would necessarily include tattling.
Tattling about a certain “suspicion” that Gyeong-a had once quietly spread while criticizing Eun-jeong.
#
Even now, Gyeong-a believed that suspicion was almost certainly true.
There was a high chance that Eun-jeong was committing forbidden exploitation against Onik.
‘Would the police have said something like that for no reason? Catching criminals is their job... They must have suspected it because they sensed something, because they smelled something.’
There had once been three good police officers who had actively spoken with her in a group chat.
If those officers had exposed the filthy truth of that shameless English teacher and put handcuffs on her.
If they had saved Jo Onik from the clutches of the English teacher with two faces...
Then it would have been deeply satisfying for Gyeong-a.
The kind mathematics teacher would have warmly taken in wounded Onik and comforted him, finally accomplishing part of what she wanted.
But unfortunately, that did not happen.
‘Heaven truly is heartless. Why does it always take the good people first?’
Justice had disappeared from the world.
She lamented that there was no god in this world who loved people.
The death of Lieutenant Seo Mun-seok was a tragedy beyond measure.
If he had not suffered that tragic accident, there would have remained at least a little chance of justice being done.
The two remaining good officers did not carry on Lieutenant Seo Mun-seok’s will.
Their spirits completely broken, they lost all will to stand against the wicked woman Lee Eun-jeong...
Naturally, the group chat had been deleted long ago.
The good officers, who had received what Gyeong-a considered unfair disciplinary action, now feared the mighty magical power wielded by English teacher Lee Eun-jeong.
They had become anxious even about secretly exchanging gossip about Eun-jeong with one of her coworkers. Group chats left records, after all.
The mighty magical power they feared.
Put into more ordinary words, it was...
‘...Power.’
Power and an elementary-school English teacher.
They were concepts that truly did not go together.
People who knew nothing of the circumstances would ask what kind of strange joke that was.
But Eun-jeong had proven it by causing three police officers to receive unfair disciplinary punishment.
She had proven that she possessed a force, ability, and power unlike that of others.
More frightening was the fact that she continued proving it.
More often. On an ever larger scale. In more and more different ways.
Now even Gyeong-a was afraid of Eun-jeong.
‘What if she tries to harm me?’
Gyeong-a had come to believe Eun-jeong had the power to harm her.
In the end, Gyeong-a too had been bewitched by the mirage Eun-jeong cultivated.
It was a familiar cliché in hypnosis stories. The person certain that they alone had not been hypnotized was, in fact, deeply hypnotized.
‘Ha... I shouldn’t have treated her so carelessly just because this was my final term before transferring.’
Gyeong-a painfully regretted her misjudgment.
Looking back critically now, thinking, “What can you do once I leave here?” had been an overly naive understanding of reality.
No one knew what would happen in life.
So she should have maintained a quantum-mechanical friendship with Eun-jeong as well.
If she had, she could have joined the ranks of the converted handmaidens and reduced her risk.
Gyeong-a believed Eun-jeong was secretly nursing a grudge after hearing the handmaidens’ tattling.
Of course she would be.
If it were merely ordinary gossip, Eun-jeong might let it pass generously for the sake of her image.
Lee Eun-jeong worked hard to pretend she was kind and innocent, did she not?
But Gyeong-a had been spreading the “truth.”
A dangerous truth that Eun-jeong could never allow people to know.
Gyeong-a put herself in Eun-jeong’s place. If I were Lee Eun-jeong, what would I do to Song Gyeong-a?
‘If I were Lee Eun-jeong? What would I do? I’d bury Song Gyeong-a.
I’d make sure she couldn’t keep spreading dangerous things. I’d make sure nobody believed what she said.’
Here, “burying” someone meant socially destroying them through reputation work and public-opinion warfare.
(It might seem grandiose, but office workers who had experienced vicious workplace politics would find it familiar.)
Eun-jeong was more than capable of doing that.
She had the ability to make Gyeong-a’s “truth” into a lie, and lies about Gyeong-a into truth.
Gyeong-a continued the thought experiment.
If I were Lee Eun-jeong, how would I bury Song Gyeong-a?
‘First, the school staff who have become that bitch’s handmaidens are a problem.’
Unlike Gyeong-a, the teachers and staff who would remain in this remote country town’s school benefited from Eun-jeong’s presence.
They could be called a community of shared fate, sharing both gains and losses with Eun-jeong.
They were also completely blinded by infatuation, so they would cry, “We will defend Comrade Leader Lee Eun-jeong to the death!” and join together to turn mathematics teacher Song Gyeong-a into trash.
It would not be wrong to call them living loudspeakers, who would accept and reproduce without question the “truths about Song Gyeong-a” Eun-jeong instructed them to spread.
For an ordinary teacher, this would be the limit, no matter how skilled they were at political maneuvering.
But Eun-jeong was different.
‘...How many reporters’ business cards does that bitch have? And how many contact numbers?’
Every media representative who had come to report on this elementary school in town had left Eun-jeong a business card, without exception.
If female teacher Lee Eun-jeong, one of the most newsworthy figures in the province, called to say she had a story...
They would flap in excitement and rush over like fish that had taken the bait.
Of course, calling reporters with fabricated truth carried risks.
No matter how much testimony from loyal handmaidens she piled up, there could be a backlash if there was no substance to it.
But Eun-jeong possessed a powerful means of ignoring much of that risk.
That means was Jo Onik.
‘That brat Jo Onik will do anything if she tells him to. He likes his teacher too much. He doesn’t even know she’s exploiting him.’
Jo Onik, the middle schooler known as Strongest in Town, was an extraordinarily intelligent boy.
Wasn’t the way he balanced schoolwork and broadcasting so brilliantly already proof that his mind was beyond ordinary limits?
It was only where Lee Eun-jeong was concerned that his intelligence temporarily declined.
A clever child like that could easily provide a “consistent statement” in court.
A scenario that cunning Lee Eun-jeong and clever Jo Onik would devise together over many days and nights.
Could Gyeong-a really escape the web of false accusations based on that frightening scenario?
‘No. Of course not.’
A child’s consistent statement concerning a particular crime carried far more force than a woman’s consistent statement.
If black-hearted Lee Eun-jeong wielded that as a weapon?
Then Gyeong-a would have no choice but to suffer helplessly.
‘If I were Lee Eun-jeong, and I had a child who followed me as blindly as Jo Onik follows her... I would use this method too.’
Calling reporters and detonating a bomb of false accusations, then mobilizing the living loudspeakers in the school to spread bad stories, was a terrible linked attack even to imagine.
‘To make matters worse, that bitch Lee Eun-jeong even has political connections.’
Local influential figures and native politicians who had already invested much in Eun-jeong would grant her all kinds of conveniences, openly and secretly.
It took only a little thought to imagine what kinds of conveniences they could offer.
Applying pressure to an investigation at the local police station.
Interfering in the first trial at the district court.
Directing the reporting approach of journalists they regularly paid off, and so on.
‘Then the best I could manage would be being cleared for lack of evidence.’
Even then, the people who supported Eun-jeong and Onik would surely tear into her.
They would say that being cleared of charges was not the same as being innocent.
After watching three good police officers receive unfair discipline the previous year, Gyeong-a had vividly felt how deeply the harms(?) of a closed society could grow.
If Eun-jeong used even those harms to attack her with the scenario above, Gyeong-a had no confidence that she could survive...
(If Eun-jeong had read the mathematics teacher’s thoughts, she would have looked utterly sick of them.
What one sees is what one is. She would have said Gyeong-a truly thought only the way she herself did.)
Once a person fell into anxiety, their thoughts naturally kept flowing in negative directions.
And because the cruel-hearted mathematics teacher measured Eun-jeong by herself, the thought experiments repeating within her anxiety produced increasingly terrible outcomes.
That was why the thumbnail on Gyeong-a’s right hand grew uglier by the day.
She kept biting it habitually in her agitation.
Eventually, she even reached this thought.
‘...Is there any way to secure evidence?’
Clear evidence that Eun-jeong was doing something a teacher should not do.
‘If I only had evidence like that, every problem would be solved.’
It would not merely end with securing Gyeong-a’s own safety.
Another problem, her ruined pride and wounded heart, could also be completely healed.
She would gain a means to thoroughly repay every humiliation she had suffered until now.
This difficult but ideal scenario suited Gyeong-a’s nature perfectly.
#
If this mathematics teacher had simply been left alone throughout winter break, something unpleasant might have happened.
Of course, Gyeong-a had no way to secure evidence.
There was not the slightest impropriety in Eun-jeong and Onik’s relationship.
(Let us forget for a moment that it was a relationship in which a teacher understood her student’s murders.
In any case, it did not contain the kind of impropriety the mathematics teacher imagined, did it?)
But there was one more fact that had to be considered.
The dark suspicion Gyeong-a harbored was the legacy of bad police officer Seo Mun-seok.
Someone who shared the bad police officer’s suspicion, and who, if not as severely as him, suffered from a similar sort of paranoid delusion.
Could such a person follow in the bad police officer’s footsteps?
...At the very least, Onik was in no position to dismiss that possibility. He had already experienced too much.
Fortunately, the frightening boy did not know that Gyeong-a had inherited the bad police officer’s legacy.
In other words, the moment Gyeong-a exposed her suspicions through a careless action, she could plunge the frightening boy into a swamp of dark worries.
Eun-jeong had no intention of leaving that danger unattended.
‘That cannot happen.’
Her heart completely full of love and concern for her student, the English teacher held out a hand of reconciliation to the mathematics teacher.
She extended her hand before it was too late, clearing away the anxiety that had trapped the mathematics teacher in sinister delusions.
But the reconciliation Eun-jeong designed was quite far from what people normally imagined reconciliation to be.
It was a refined method that gave Gyeong-a some of what she desperately wanted while putting a leash around her neck at the same time.
In other words...
It was reconciliation designed by “Awakened Lee Eun-jeong.”
Footnotes:
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