Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: The Old Fox and the Young Tiger
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The scent of old books, faint dust, and the sickly-sweet aroma of stale instant coffee mix.
Park Sunwoo's world consisted of those three smells.
In the corner of a dilapidated university lab where even sunlight barely reached, his desk buried under stacks of books was a tiny island isolating him from the world.
He was the sole owner of that island—and its only exile.
"……"
Through his magnifying reading glasses, he was poring over historical records related to the Japanese Governor-General's land survey project.
In the faded black-and-white photo stained with ink, the hollow eyes of a dispossessed Korean farmer seemed to stare right back at him.
He felt a strange sense of familiarity in those eyes.
They resembled his own face—someone who had lived his entire life deprived of something.
That was when it happened.
Bzzz- Bzzz-
His battered smartphone, tossed carelessly atop a pile of books, buzzed with an unfamiliar vibration.
The caller ID read 'Han Yura, Blue Sky Investment'.
The same name that had called for the first time a few days ago.
Park Sunwoo hesitated for a moment.
'Blue Sky Investment'
A name from another world, one that a poor adjunct lecturer like him would never cross paths with in his lifetime.
He cautiously pressed the call button.
[Hello, good afternoon. This is Han Yura, Managing Director at Blue Sky Investment.]
A clear, intelligent woman's voice came through the receiver.
[We spoke before, right? About the 'Korean Modern History Museum' we're planning. Have you... given it any thought?]
A museum.
A museum centered on Korean modern history—his exact field of expertise.
When he first heard the proposal, he naturally assumed it was a scam.
There were far more famous and capable professors than him, so why would they offer such a massive project to an unknown adjunct like him?
But her voice carried none of the urgency or exaggeration typical of scammers.
If anything, it was so calm and logical that it felt unreal.
Park Sunwoo licked his dry lips.
He knew it.
This was a suspicious, dangerous offer.
A stone that could send ripples through the quiet, ghostly life he had lived.
His mother, a former secretary.
And his father, a titan of Korea's business world.
He didn't have a bad relationship with his father.
Once or twice a month, his father would quietly seek him out.
They'd play a game of baduk together, share dinner, and talk about the state of the world over a glass of liquor.
In those moments, his father was affectionate toward his son.
But that was it.
His father permitted him nothing more.
Not a better car, not a bigger house, not a more stable job. All his father allowed was the son's 'existence' itself—not his 'life'.
It was the most perfect prison called love.
So he never dreamed.
But... it was a museum.
A chance to showcase to the public the pains and truths of an overlooked era that he had devoted his life to studying.
It touched the faint ember of 'dream' still lingering in his chest.
He had lived quietly like a ghost his whole life.
He had to continue living that way.
He believed that was the bare minimum duty to the two people who brought him into the world—his mother, who died tragically, and his father, who turned away from him.
But just once, he wanted to leave something behind not as a ghost, but as a living human, in his own name.
"...Yes."
After a very long silence, he finally managed to speak.
"I'd like to... meet and hear more about it."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The meeting spot was a cafe on the first floor of a hotel in Gwanghwamun.
Even on a weekday afternoon, the place was packed with people in upscale attire.
Park Sunwoo felt out of place in his threadbare tweed jacket and worn leather bag—like a color photo mistakenly inserted into a black-and-white film.
He arrived 20 minutes early and sat in a corner, endlessly gulping down water.
His heart pounded for no reason.
'Should I just leave?' The thought flashed through his mind dozens of times.
That was when a woman entered through the cafe entrance.
Han Yura.
The person he had only seen in photos on portal sites.
Park Sunwoo momentarily stopped breathing.
She exuded an overwhelming presence far beyond what he'd seen in internet news.
Her expensive gray suit fit her body perfectly, and her poised gait and leisurely gaze around the room radiated the confidence of someone who owned the world beneath her feet.
She spotted Park Sunwoo right away and approached with an elegant smile.
"You're Professor Park Sunwoo, right? You arrived early. I'm Han Yura from Blue Sky."
Her outstretched hand was soft yet firm.
Park Sunwoo stood up in a daze and shook it.
"Ah, yes. Park Sunwoo."
The moment they sat, Han Yura cut straight to the chase.
There was no fluff in her speech.
"I've read all of your papers, Professor. Especially the parts tracing land expropriation during the colonial period and the lives of the tenant farmers who fell into ruin—they were truly impressive."
"...You're too kind."
"No, really. That's why we reached out. The museum we're building isn't just a place to honor great heroes or independence fighters. We want it to capture the suffering of ordinary people who faded into obscurity, and their resistance in trying to survive despite it all. Your perspective aligns perfectly with the philosophy we want for our museum."
Her words weren't vague flattery.
She cited titles and key points from several of his papers, demonstrating a perfect understanding of what he had delved into.
The fact that someone—someone from a completely different world—had studied his work this deeply made a corner of Park Sunwoo's heart grow warm.
But his rational doubts lingered.
"...Still, Director Han... why me? An obscure scholar like myself..."
It was the most fundamental question.
Han Yura replied in a soft but firm tone, as if she'd been waiting for it.
"It's because of our CEO Kim Cheolsu's management philosophy."
"CEO... Kim Cheolsu?"
"Yes. Our CEO believes a company's profits are ultimately a debt owed to society and history. He often says that the sacrifices of that dark era you study are what made today's Korea possible. So this project isn't mere corporate social responsibility—it's us repaying the debt to our predecessors."
She paused briefly, pulled a tablet from her bag, and turned the screen toward him.
"And why it has to be you, Professor: because we want the 'real thing'. Not fame or authority, but sharp insight that pierces the era and burning sincerity. That's what we saw in you."
The tablet screen showed a provisional title: 'Working Title: History Museum for the Nameless', along with concept art and preliminary designs for the museum.
It wasn't some pie-in-the-sky fantasy.
It was so concrete and overwhelmingly realistic that Park Sunwoo unconsciously swallowed hard.
The ideal space he had only ever envisioned in his mind was unfolding before him in reality.
Han Yura drove the final nail.
"Of course, we'll offer the highest industry compensation for your advisory role. It will be incomparable to your current income."
Money. And the realization of a dream.
Park Sunwoo realized this was an offer he couldn't refuse.
Was this the key to unlocking the prison his father had built? Or the entrance to an even deeper abyss?
He decided to hold off judgment and take the first step.
"...Could I review the materials in more detail?"
A smile that seemed to see through everything curved on Han Yura's lips.
"Of course, Professor."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Han Yura rested her chin on her hand, quietly observing the man before her.
Her face wore the intelligent smile of a business partner who 'respected his sincerity and awaited his deep consideration of the proposal'.
But the thoughts racing through her mind were something else entirely.
'Fuck, is this guy for real naive... or is he acting? He looks fucking stupid, though...'
Park Sunwoo couldn't tear his eyes from the tablet screen.
Behind his thick reading glasses, his eyes sparkled with the pure longing of a child.
The worn-out jacket, the clueless scholar's face.
Everything screamed that he was the perfect 'nice guy nerd'.
'...No, but he's that filthy rich old man's son, so maybe this is an act too. Black-hearted like his dad, pretending to be a dumbass on the outside.'
She gauged whether the man before her truly didn't know he was Cheon Myeong-hwan's chosen 'heir' in his heart—or if he knew and was playing dumb.
Whatever. It didn't matter.
In her mind flashed the face of a former idol actress recently scouted by Blue Sky's entertainment subsidiary.
Young, pretty, reputation in the gutter from a drug scandal, desperate to make a comeback.
Han Yura scanned Park Sunwoo again.
'Married man. Pregnant wife...'
Behind her business smile, a contemptuous smirk layered on.
'Hmph... He's a well-behaved model student, sure... but hey, he's got a dick like any other guy.'
Every human has their own sacred cow or weak spot.
And finding and stabbing it—that was what she did best.
Park Sunwoo finally looked up, opening his mouth as if resolved.
"...Could I review the materials in more detail?"
In that instant, all the crude thoughts vanished from Han Yura's mind.
She donned her perfect mask again, replying in her most trustworthy voice.
"Of course, Professor."
Acting or not, Park Sunwoo had no choice but to take on the museum project.
And the moment he bit the bait, he was caught in a web he couldn't escape.
Museum advisor. Inappropriate relationship with a promotional celebrity. And... a drug party.
That ought to make even that filthy rich old man shit his pants, right?