The Genius Construction Worker Who Moved to America - Chapter 3

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 3

Welcome to America

“What, what did you say?”

[Skill ‘Tower of Babel (English Patch)’ patching in progress….]

“Ugh!”

Kang Junoon pressed his temples and groaned. It felt as though the neural pathways in his brain were instantaneously connecting, information flooding in all at once.

Countless English words. Unfamiliar grammar structures.

All of it lodged itself in his mind as though it had always been his native tongue.

The pain subsided within ten seconds.
Kang Junoon steadied his breathing and lifted his head. His gaze drifted toward the bookshelf in the corner of the room.

There sat an English vocabulary book he’d picked up from a junkyard a year ago, on a whim—wondering if he might pursue a field management certification.

He’d abandoned it after three pages and repurposed it as a ramen bowl rest.

Kang Junoon pulled the book free and flipped to a random page.

[Foundation – the basis or underlying support of something]
[Architecture – the art and science of building design]
[Durability – the ability to withstand wear and damage]

“…….”

He could read it. Not simply by assembling the letters into sounds.

The moment his eyes touched a word, the meaning, the nuance, even example sentences unfurled across his mind.

Click.
Kang Junoon closed the book and opened and closed his eyes.

The Quest window still hovered vividly before him.

Doubt was over. He’d moved past denying reality. This miracle resting in his hands was real.

A single chance to cast off the shackles of day labor.

A fierce light kindled in Kang Junoon’s eyes.

“Right then. Let’s go. America, anywhere—what does it matter.”

* * *

From the next day, Kang Junoon began settling his affairs in Korea.

After listing his apartment with a nearby real estate agent, he went straight to the labor office to collect back wages owed to him.

As it happened, the foreman from yesterday’s construction site had just stopped by the office to select workers. He turned to Kang Junoon and spoke.

“Junoon, we’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

“Today’s easy. Actually, from now on—no more of this. Just cut me my final pay.”

Kang Junoon had always followed work without complaint, wherever it led. The site manager stared at him in stunned silence.

“You deposit that money right now, or I’m filing a complaint with the Labor Board. And while we’re at it, remember those leftover materials you skimmed off last time? Let me count—one, two….”

The site manager snapped to attention, stumbling over his words.

“What, what’s a little petty cash? Just top it off! But if you quit the work, how are you supposed to eat? A nobody like you with no background?”

“Well, something’s come up. In America, actually.”

The eyes of the site manager and everyone standing nearby went wide.

“America? You’re going to America? Can’t even speak English—where’s this confidence coming from?”

Kang Junoon smiled enigmatically and answered in fluent English.

“So long, losers. This grunt is off to America for real.”

A hard-shell carry-on in one hand.

But checking the checked baggage regulations, he found that tools and blunt instruments could be packed securely in a checked suitcase without any issues.

“This way, First Class passenger. We’ll have you seated shortly.”

Kang Junoon followed the airline staff member’s guidance, moving through the terminal.

Departure procedures were swift. Lines, tedious baggage inspections—all of it evaporated before a First Class ticket.

As he boarded, space opened around him. Seats where his legs stretched without touching the footrest. The tactile luxury of premium leather.

Comfort absolute.
Though to someone like Kang Junoon—flying for the first time—the caliber of this comfort remained beyond measure.

Only a vague marvel: money has its merits, he thought.

Then the aircraft thrust itself down the runway and climbed into the sky.

Kang Junoon held Seoul’s receding cityscape in his gaze.

‘No regrets,’ he told himself.

An orphan. A drift through children’s homes, then construction sites.

A life spent in solitude. No family to remember him by name, no lover who would weep for his return.

He hadn’t expected that leaving nothing behind could feel like liberation.

“Would you care for a glass of champagne before your meal, sir?”

The flight attendant spoke in English.
To Kang Junoon’s ears, that English filtered through as perfect Korean, crystalline and clear.

“No, thank you. A cola with ice instead, please.”

Kang Junoon replied in English with equal naturalness.

The pronunciation was flawless. The attendant smiled and withdrew. The Tower of Babel skill was operating without a hitch.

Eleven hours aloft.
At last, the aircraft descended toward Los Angeles International Airport.

Standing before immigration, a flutter of nerves touched him—but it proved needless.

Perfect English flowed from his lips.
The inspector stamped his passport without hesitation.

The real test began the moment he stepped through the automatic doors.

“Damn, it’s hot.”

▶ Time Remaining: 4 days, 11 hours.

The five-million-won deposit from the semi-basement studio, exchanged at a currency exchange for thirty-six hundred dollars — that was Kang Junoon’s entire fortune.

It was the kind of money that would evaporate in an instant if he grabbed a motel room and paid for a few meals.

“Let me find the destination first.”

Kang Junoon pulled his carry-on luggage toward the taxi stand outside the airport terminal.

“Pasadena. 1,242 Elm Street.”

“That’s quite a distance. It’ll take at least an hour.”

“That’s fine. I’ll give you a generous tip — just take the fastest route.”

The taxi roared to life and merged onto the highway.

The landscape streaked past the windows, but Kang Junoon wasn’t admiring it. He was only simulating in his mind the condition of the tools and the anticipated roof repair work.

* * *

“We’re here. This is the beginning of Elm Street.”

Kang Junoon paid the fare and stepped out of the taxi. At last he’d arrived at the town that served as the backdrop for the Quest.

But the moment he took in the sight of the town, his brow furrowed.

“…Damn it.”

He’d imagined a peaceful American suburban neighborhood. Reality was different.

From the entrance to the town, dust swirled and safety fencing cordoned off a construction site.

Two massive concrete pillars meant to symbolize the town were in the process of being erected.

A ready-mix concrete truck was dumping cement into the formwork.

The problem was the shoddy execution.

A handful of Mexican workers in hard hats sat in the shade resting, while a single foreman clung to one of the pillars, wringing his hands.

Crack! Pop!

An ominous rupturing sound.
The middle section of the wooden formwork was beginning to bulge outward.

Formwork Bulging — the construction site term for it.
The wooden frame couldn’t withstand the pressure of the pouring concrete and was about to burst.

“Oh my God! Stop! Don’t pour! Halt!”

The foreman shrieked, tearing at his hair.
If the wooden frame gave way, tons of cement slurry would spill across the road.

The workers panicked and stumbled backward.

Just as Kang Junoon was about to walk past the scene without a second glance.
His occupational instinct took over.

His eyes picked out the straining red lines across the formwork, on the verge of snapping.

“Sigh….”

Kang Junoon finally laid the carry-on luggage flat on the ground and unzipped it.
He pulled out a jumper, withdrew two thick strands of binding wire and a mini pry bar.

Crunch, crunch.
Kang Junoon walked onto the construction site, kicking up clouds of dust.

The foreman spun around in alarm.
A dust-covered man was approaching with binding wire and tools in both hands.

“What—what are you doing? This is dangerous! Get out of here right now—”

“Just step aside. It’ll only take a minute.”

Kang Junoon walked straight up to the column.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing!”

The foreman tried to block him, but Kang Junoon was faster.

He wrapped one of the thick strands of binding wire around the bulging belly of the formwork, then twisted both ends of the wire to create a tight loop.

Kang Junoon shoved the pry bar handle between the loops of wire.

An essential skill on Korean construction sites.
Known as the Wire Binding Technique.

Kang Junoon threw his weight into it and began twisting the pry bar hard.

Creak-crack! Snap!

The wire twisted and pulled taut in an instant, cinching the wooden frame so tightly the slack was driven into the timber.

“You insane bastard! Stop!”

The foreman shouted.

But Kang Junoon didn’t stop—he gave the pry bar two more turns to fully compress the wire.

Then he picked up a piece of timber from the ground, wedged it between the wire and the wooden frame, and struck it hard with the hammer.

Perfect stabilization.

The formwork, which had been heaving and bulging like it would burst, was suddenly held firm by the single line of wire Kang Junoon had bound—as if by magic.

“……!”

The foreman’s mouth fell open.
The workers who’d been about to flee stopped dead, as if they’d seen a ghost.

In Kang Junoon’s vision, the red lines of pressure that had surged chaotically moments before aligned into perfect order.

Kang Junoon gathered his tools without a word.

“You didn’t use a vibrator when pouring the concrete—just brute-forced it in like animals. The formwork split from the pressure. Don’t loosen that wire until it’s completely set.”

A terse stream of advice.

That was when it happened.
Someone chasing from behind grabbed Kang Junoon’s wrist.

“Whoa, wait! Just a moment!”

It was the blond-haired site supervisor who’d been tearing at his hair moments before. His blue eyes trembled with excitement.

“How on earth did you just do that? You held back several tons of pressure with a single wire?”

“I saw where it was about to burst, so I tied it off. Let go. I’m a busy man.”

Kang Junoon tried to pull his arm free.
But the supervisor held on as if he’d grab his pant leg next if necessary.

“My name is Leo! I’m the owner of a construction company in this area! You, are you perhaps looking for work? Actually, you must be looking for work! Please, I’m begging you, help me out!”

Leo suddenly proposed a job and held fast. The confused Kang Junoon was just beginning to furrow his brow and open his mouth.

Ding!

An ominous mechanical sound rang out in Kang Junoon’s mind. A System alarm window flashed before his eyes.

[A new Linked Quest has occurred!]

[Quest: Foundation of Connections]
You cannot raise a building alone in this unfamiliar land.
Help this foolish site supervisor before you and complete the construction.

▶ Objective: Complete the column construction for the town entrance gate.
▶ Reward: Permission to enter the first Tutorial Quest location (1,242 Elm Street).
▶ Penalty for failure: Ability revocation and immediate death.

“…Damn.”

A sigh escaped Kang Junoon’s lips. The immediate death penalty had reared its head again.

He’d needed to meet the owner of the house at 1,242 Elm Street and find a reason to tear off the roof—and now the System had delivered this blond-haired boss as a sacrifice on a silver platter.

This was no blessing from the heavens.
It was a slave contract, with his life as collateral.

“To hell with divine grace… treacherous bastard of a boss.”

Kang Junoon spoke in Korean.
Leo’s eyes widened as he asked.

“Pardon? What did you just say…?”

“The job.”

Kang Junoon cut him off and spoke in English.

“Double the hourly rate you’re paying. And you hand over complete control of this site to me. Deal?”

If he couldn’t escape reality, there was only one path left: finish this construction project as quickly as possible.

Kang Junoon’s full-fledged American manual labor began in earnest.

The Genius Laborer Who Crossed to America, Episode 3

Author
Kalman
Publisher
Titan
Planning / Editing / Production
Lee Sung-guk
Cover Design
Studio Inerus

UCI
G720:N+A036-20260819030.0003

ⓒ2026, Kalman

※ This e-book is protected under the Copyright Law of the Republic of Korea.
No part or whole of this work may be reprocessed in any form without permission from the author and publisher.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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