Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Sad KAIST Student
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"Haha... So, what do you think, Officer?"
I asked with a forced, servile grin.
I had no choice but to grovel.
This project would decide my entire future as a professor.
If I didn't land it, no tenure.
Then I'd fail the assistant-to-associate professor review too.
Somehow I'd clawed my way to KAIST through cutthroat rivals with overseas PhDs.
And that wasn't even the half of it.
My family was on the line.
My beautiful wife was back home, struggling to raise our daughter because of me.
I had to nail this one.
Yeah. Confidence. Come on.
I'm one of Korea's top intellectuals, right?
With that in mind, I wet my parched mouth and tacked on more explanation.
"Th-this research... I truly believe it'll lay the cornerstone for Korea's quantum computing dominance. No, not believe—I'll make it happen..."
"Hoo, Professor Han Kyung-jun. It's good. Really good."
Right as I was ramping up with excitement.
The administrative officer from the Ministry of Future Science and Creation—a 5th-grade technical exam grad—sighed and cut me off.
"This already exists."
A sharp chill raced down my spine.
I couldn't just sit there.
Feigning composure, I jumped in quick.
"Y-yes, exactly. America pioneered it. Then China, Japan followed suit. But they're nowhere near true quantum computers compared to supercomputers—scalability and power both lag... Mine, though, it's different from the exist—"
"Different from the existing ones?"
"Yes. Google's superconducting qubits, IBM's diamond NV centers, China's ion traps. Mine builds on Prof. Ko Furusa's Japanese paper—using light..."
"Ha. Really."
The officer rudely interrupted.
"This is why professors are hopeless. Think they're the smartest in the world."
He muttered it like a soliloquy.
But I'd heard it. Might as well have shouted it.
"Professor."
"Yes."
"You're diligent. Obviously smart. KAIST prof and all. We get it."
"...Yes."
"But it's always like this."
He tsked his tongue.
For the record, the punk was at least five years younger than me.
"You know it, with all your experience. The pie's fixed-size. Country's broke. Money, money. You get me?"
"..."
He wasn't just any 5th-grader.
Dad ran the Ministry of Economy and Finance.
Controlled every government won.
No other prof dared breathe wrong around this wet-behind-the-ears kid.
Like me right now.
"But we have the research so far. At least let us wrap it up...!"
"Hoo. Fine."
"...Pardon?"
"Calm down. I'll make it special this once."
The mood shifted on a dime.
"You know, it'd bug me otherwise. Heard you're up for associate review."
Scraaaape.
He rose from his chair.
"Coffee break?"
From: [email protected]
Title: Professor Han~ It's Hwang Administrative Officer's wife~
Content: Husband said to send here~ What he told me last time sounded perfect~ But our girl's aiming for SNU Med School, so nothing too pricey, something med-related would be great~ Professor Han's so brilliant, I'm sure you know all about it~ Husband thinks a student paper's enough, but he's buried in work and clueless about regular admissions these days—they're brutal. I figure paper plus patent minimum~ ...[abridged]...
"Fuckin' hell. Only you assholes got daughters?"
I spat curses and slammed the email app shut.
What bullshit.
I became a prof for research, not to rig kids' admissions.
"Hoo. Manage the face. Manage the face."
Anyway, it's handled.
Project extended a year. Associate review? Smooth sailing.
Just hang in a bit longer—wife and girl'll be happier. Endure.
Riiiing.
"Daddy's home... Huh?"
Slipped in quiet, mumbling so I wouldn't wake them.
"...You're back?"
"Honey? Still up?"
Wife was at the living room table, wide awake. Unexpected.
Happiness bubbled up instantly.
I lunged to hug her—but
"Honey...?"
Something in the air stopped me cold.
"..."
She stayed silent.
"Honey, you okay? Feel sick?"
I reached worried for her hand—but
"...Told you it's suffocating. The hand-holding crap."
Her hand slipped away first.
"Ah. Right. Haha..."
Happening more lately.
Yeah, she'd griped about raising Suyeong being tough. Claustrophobic too.
Tired from childcare, probably.
"..."
"..."
Awkward silence thickened.
She wouldn't even meet my eyes—staring off to the side.
Couldn't take it. I broke first.
"Uh... Suyeong asleep? Master bedroom again?"
"Yeah."
"Haha, our Suyeong really loves her mom and dad, huh?"
Means I crash on the living room sofa every night.
We could all pile in happily, but she whines it's too cramped, can't sleep.
So it's her and Suyeong bunking together.
"..."
No answer again.
I forced an even brighter smile.
"Oh, right. Today? Think I'll snag associate prof for sure. No more leaving you alone nights, tons more time—maybe a trip with Suyeong..."
"Oppa."
She cut me off. Just like Hwang today.
"I can't take it anymore."
Her words made no sense.
"We need to live apart."
My wife left me.
One year since we separated.
Daughter picked mom—"I love Mommy"—went with her.
"Urk... Fuck... Fuuuuck..."
All that's left: crumpled piles of paperwork.
And months of unthrown booze bottles stacking up.
"Knew she was too pretty, not like me... Really wasn't mine, huh..."
Daughter wasn't mine.
Post-divorce DNA on room hair: paternity odds under 0.1%.
What the hell did I do wrong?
Not a doctor or prosecutor, sure.
But solid success: professor gig.
Ditched school life, campus fun—pure grind.
All for nothing.
"Idol? Idol? What's so great about that leech-lookin' prick..."
Ex-wife's old boyfriend.
Or ex-ex-ex, whatever.
She ran to him.
Funneling my living expenses while he chased showbiz.
"Livin' expenses my ass... Ha, all to feed that fucker..."
Sued, naturally.
But that's where it ended.
"Hoo..."
Why bother studying? Grinding like this?
Should've chased skirts like everyone else.
"...Nah, this mug? No shot."
Knew dimly: she wed my wallet, not face.
But kid comes, bonds form, respect follows.
Slow burn to real love.
Pure delusion.
And my own damn fault.
Tried buying love with cash.
Then pined for it to turn real.
No coercion. My pick.
Should've toughed it out, known my lane.
Didn't.
Never should've married.
"Study hard, succeed"? Bullshit from jump.
Sensed it vaguely.
Too late to face it square now.
"...Hoo."
Still, silver lining maybe.
Anger, grief fueled the research.
Only thing left—boom, massive breakthrough.
Korea: second after US to commercialize quantum computers worldwide.
With light? That was me first.
K-Musk, Elon heir—total frenzy.
『Computers with light now?! China first to commercialize photonic quantum computers!』
If China hadn't jacked my work.
『KAIST's Prof. Han Kyung-jun leaks research to China? Demand strict punishment.』
『Prof. Han: "No leak." Gov insists leak. Public baffled.』
『Quantum surge: Korea fails, hands it to China, US... now Japan too?』
Yeah, divorce papers? Tiny fraction of this mess.
Mostly lawsuits, summons.
Outcomes? Obvious.
Headlines spell it out.
Wife, daughter, that Hwang fuck—public, gov, whoever.
World cast me out.
Time to end it.
Lived harder than anyone.
Miserabler than all.
"Mother, Father. Sorry for this worthless son."
Draw the curtain on my pointless life.
May death mean more than life.
And in whatever afterlife—if any—vow: never like this again.
I should've died.
Yet... warmth. Breath.
Failed at dying too, huh.
"...Hopeless."
Overkill, really.
Windows sealed tight, briquettes maxed.
Smoke trip a fire alarm maybe?
No.
Wait.
Something's off.
"Ah... Ah."
Hoarse rasp gone.
Smoke-and-booze-clogged throat? Crystal clear.
Biggest shift:
"This ain't my house..."
Brand-new ceiling.
Alien wallpaper.
Yet... weirdly familiar room.
"This... Math Practice Book 7-A...?"
Desk-side proof hit undeniable.
Instant:
-Son! Eat up!
Late mom's voice rang.
-You always threw fits for squid fried rice breakfasts, so Mom made it~!
I gulped dry, could only mutter:
"S-squid fried rice...?"