Chapter 4 – Graduate (4)
[Chapter 1 – Verse 1] I Took the Aptitude Test
Am I dreaming?
That was my first thought.
Just moments ago, I was on the school rooftop, grappling with the “genius shaman” Yoo Il-am.
But now, I’m in the school courtyard.
Unless I jumped off the rooftop with the intent to die, there’s no way I could’ve gotten to the ground this quickly.
And besides,
“I want to be an astronaut! Please!”
“God, grant me a miracle~!”
“I hope I get president…”
The third-year students, who should’ve gone home after the closing ceremony, were swarming the courtyard.
How could this be?
I was utterly confused.
“Next student.”
A woman’s voice came from inside the hospital bus.
“…”
“Next student! Hurry up and come in!”
When no one entered, her voice grew louder.
“Moon-soo, what are you doing?”
“Dude, it’s your turn.”
“Hurry up and go!”
“Huh?”
Pushed by my irritated friends, I stepped into the hospital bus.
‘My turn?’
The aptitude test, mandatory for all citizens, is a one-time thing. Even retaking it doesn’t change the results.
So why am I doing it again?
I was dumbfounded.
“Student, take off your shoes and lie down on the bed to the right.”
A nurse I vaguely remembered seeing before pointed to a portable bed.
“Um…”
“Student, we don’t have time. Save your questions for the doctor later.”
Despite her clear refusal, I pressed on.
“Is this really the aptitude test?”
“…”
The nurse paused at my question, frowning.
“Please tell me.”
“Student, I’m very busy and don’t have time for games. Did you stand in line this whole time not knowing it was the aptitude test?”
“…Sorry.”
If I asked another question, I felt like I’d be kicked out of the bus.
“Hurry up and get on.”
“Yes.”
I shut my mouth and lay on the bed. Not that I was convinced.
‘I already took the aptitude test.’
I couldn’t understand why I was taking it again.
“Student, before we start the test, I’ll ask some simple verification questions.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever taken the aptitude test before?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t—wait, you said you have?”
“Yes. Two days ago.”
“Hold on.”
Tap, tap, tappity-tap-
The nurse, looking slightly flustered, typed on her laptop.
“…”
I waited calmly.
Since I took the aptitude test in this hospital bus, there had to be some record of it.
“Student, your name?”
“Kang Moon-soo.”
“The name matches, but… which hospital did you take a paid test at two days ago?”
“It was a free test.”
“The only designated hospital where students from this school can take the free test is ours.”
“I took it in this hospital bus.”
“…”
“Check it.”
“…Student, you didn’t even start the test back then. If you keep joking, you’ll be kicked out.”
“…”
I wasn’t lying.
But the nurse, with her stern warning, didn’t seem to be lying either.
‘This is insane!’
It’s like I’ve gone back in time, isn’t it?
The thought was so absurd that I couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.
“Student, close your eyes and stay still from now on.”
The nurse, having pegged me as a prankster who liked word games, spoke in a sharp tone.
“Yes.”
Pushing aside my confused thoughts, I “retake” the aptitude test.
I’m not an expert, so I don’t know the exact mechanics of the aptitude test machine, but I learned that it determines your aptitude based on measurements from head to toe.
Brain cells, vocal cords, kidneys, body proportions, capillaries, lung capacity…
Even reproductive organs!
“…”
During the test, I felt nothing, but the special plywood beneath the medical bed was sending radiation through my body.
“The test is done. Get up.”
“Yes.”
The first time I took the test, I was just dazed, but maybe because I already knew the result, it felt eerie that my life was being decided in such a short moment.
‘No, wait.’
Wasn’t the memory of getting “shaman” as my result just a bad dream?
The proof was that I couldn’t see the ghosts that Yoo Il-am, the shaman, could.
Clear evidence of my lack of talent!
As soon as I concluded it was a dream, my mind felt at ease.
But,
“What about that shaman?”
They say dreams are reconstructions of experiences, but the series of events involving Yoo Il-am, a “complete stranger,” nagged at me.
‘Wait, could it be?’
Maybe the genius shaman Yoo Il-am was a fictional character I created in my imagination.
After stepping out of the hospital bus to make way for the next student, I pulled out my smartphone in a corner of the gymnasium.
Tap, tap-
I immediately accessed a search engine and typed in his name.
‘Yoo, Il, Am… What?!’
“Genius Shaman Yoo Il-am! Live Broadcast”
“Yoo Il-am’s Counseling Center”
“Detective Shaman Yoo Il-am! Ghost Busting!”
“Yoo Il-am vs. Shaman Song Eun-young”
“…He’s real.”
I deeply regretted living under the same sky as someone I wished didn’t exist.
“The test is over so quickly.”
“Yeah.”
“Did we even take the test…?”
“President! Please~!”
The long line for the aptitude test was gradually shrinking.
The kids waiting for their results, a sound I’d heard so often it was practically ingrained in me.
“…”
It felt like I’d let “today” slip by in this atmosphere.
“Moon-soo.”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a while.”
I shook my head slightly at the question from my friend who dreamed of being president.
“No, just have a lot on my mind.”
The hyper-realistic nightmare was making my head spin.
“Moon-soo, do you have a job you’re hoping for?”
I’d been asked this question before, in the dream too.
What did I say?
‘…Oh, right. I said any job that makes a lot of money would do.’
Ever since my father passed away suddenly and I started living alone, I’ve always been strapped for cash.
Money! And more money! Always money!
An indispensable value in a capitalist society.
Living without worrying about money was my “dream.”
But,
“As long as it’s not some weird job like shaman, I’ll be satisfied.”
“Shaman? Oh, yeah, watching Yoo Il-am’s broadcasts would make anyone hate it.”
“You know Yoo Il-am?”
“Of course. He’s famous. Some call him a fraud, but there are plenty of witnesses who’ve seen him exorcise ghosts.”
“I see.”
His character might be deplorable, but his skills as a shaman seemed legitimate.
“I want to be president.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Regardless of my response, my friend’s aspiration remained unchanged.
“I’m going to be the future president!”
“Sure.”
“…Moon-soo.”
“What?”
“What would you do if you got a job you didn’t want?”
“…”
The question was the same as before, but I couldn’t brush it off like I did in the past.
An unwanted job.
Having already “experienced” it in a dream, I answered seriously.
“I’d fight it. I can’t just leave my fate to some machine made by a mysterious P, right?”
“I see…”
“What about you? If your aptitude isn’t president, what’ll you do?”
“I… don’t know. I’ll think about it after I see my results.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll definitely get president.”
“Thanks, even if it’s just words.”
“I mean it.”
I saw it in my dream! It felt so real that I could believe it was the near future.
‘That’s why I’m worried.’
The anxiety that I might get “shaman” again, like in the nightmare.
And the image of Yoo Il-am kicking the unconscious girl on the rooftop kept flashing in my mind.
“Next student!”
“Hm?”
“No next student? Hong Sun-young! Come to the testing center!”
“…What’s that?”
The nurse from the hospital bus was calling for a student in a tired voice.
‘That’s odd.’
This didn’t happen before, did it?
Because in the dream, the aptitude test had proceeded without a hitch.
“Sun-young isn’t taking the aptitude test.”
“She went to the infirmary because she’s sick.”
“She said she’ll pay for it separately later.”
Students still waiting for their tests explained to the nurse.
“Thanks for letting me know. Next student after Hong Sun-young, come in.”
“Yes!”
Despite the slight hiccup, the aptitude test continued as planned.
“That’s weird.”
“Yeah. Isn’t it common sense to take extra care of your health three days before the aptitude test?”
“Exactly.”
The aptitude test result is a critical matter recorded on your resident registration card.
It’s an unfounded superstition, but what if a natural disaster or accident affects your body and leads to a lackluster result?
So, in the dream, every student was cautious, and no one skipped the test due to health issues.
“Moon-soo.”
“What?”
“Looks like everyone else is done. Let’s go grab some food.”
“…Sure.”
The slight deviation from the dream gave me a faint sense of unease, but it didn’t seem like a big deal.
***
One day, then another…
At first, I was disoriented, unable to distinguish dream from reality, but the days that followed were smooth.
However,
‘It’s too similar.’
The progression was so identical to the dream that it gave me chills.
The teachers’ teaching styles, the parent newsletter with no guardian to deliver it to, my part-time job, the news…
For a dream supposedly constructed from my imagination, every detail matched perfectly.
Was it really a dream?
“Pfft. What am I thinking…”
I let out a dry laugh.
Of course it was a dream, wasn’t it?
According to Einstein’s general theory of relativity applied to cosmology, you can’t stop or rewind time in an expanding universe.
Another piece of evidence—
“Whoa!”
“She’s here!”
“Everyone, back to your seats!”
My scientific musings were interrupted by the chaotic classroom atmosphere.
‘Here it comes.’
Our homeroom teacher entered the classroom, her hands full of envelopes containing the “aptitude” that would be etched at the top of our resident registration cards for life.
This, too, was the same as the dream.
Except for the incident where one student refused the aptitude test, everything was identical.
“Everyone, have you been waiting long?”
“…”
“…”
“Yes!”
While everyone else was silent with tension, I answered energetically. I had truly been waiting for this moment.
“Number 1, Kang Moon-soo.”
“Yes!”
As soon as I received the envelope with my aptitude test result, I took a deep breath.
‘No need to worry.’
The memory of getting “shaman,” an occult aptitude with no connection to my family history, was surely a nightmare.
Reality would be different.
‘Alright.’
Through rational analysis and insight, my mind gradually calmed.
I was ready.
Swish-
I cautiously examined the contents of the envelope I’d been scared to open.
“…Huh?”
Snap!
I quickly closed it.
‘Why?!’
Were my eyes playing tricks? I rubbed them to clear any dust and looked again.
“Moon-soo’s gonna be president too?”
“He likes science, so maybe a technician or researcher.”
“Now I’m getting excited for no reason!”
“Maybe an astronaut…”
Just like before, my classmates’ eyes sparkled with intense curiosity about my aptitude test result.
“Moon-soo, tell us!”
“What’s your job?”
“Dude, show it already!”
I was dumbfounded by their interest in someone else’s life.
‘How can they say the exact same things, word for word?’
Given that I was acting differently from the dream, shouldn’t the future have changed too?
That question crossed my mind, but when even our duty-driven homeroom teacher spouted the same line, I gave up thinking.
“Is it hard to say?”
Maybe because I was experiencing the same situation for the second time, the shock was less intense.
Flip.
I revealed the aptitude test result with a flourish and shouted,
“Shaman!”
It’ll work out somehow.
Comments
Post a Comment