He Only Plays Villains - Chapter 146: Graduate School of Reality and Drama (2)
-Protect the heart of the capital.
This was the order given to the colonel who had been abruptly recalled to active duty along with a one-rank promotion.
Defend the city responsible for the empire's capital energy supply from enemy attack.
If this coastal city, over 200 km from the capital, were destroyed, the empire would grind to a halt.
If the capital was the empire's brain, this coastal city was its heart, keeping both brain and body alive and functioning.
The war hero who had rocketed from private to colonel in record time had access to every corner of the capital's heart and could peruse all its information.
Had Jeong Seo-hoon's memories remained locked away, the colonel would have been clueless about what any of it meant.
But this colonel, whose consciousness and memories spanned both worlds, possessed the ability to pierce the secrets held by the capital's heart.
However, the imperial army's high command was oblivious to the colonel's level of scientific knowledge.
His service record listed his education as equivalent to an ordinary high school diploma on Earth.
Unaware of his true knowledge and trusting in the war hero's name, they allowed him to plunder their secrets openly and boldly.
-Institute director. Explain what this is.
-Commander, this is far too complex a concept...
-It's fine. I simply want to know the state of the front lines you're fighting on, as Defense Commander.
-Understood. Then...
The institute director and senior researchers were moved by the colonel's attitude, treating them as comrades on the rear lines.
They showed and explained everything the heart of the capital held, without reservation.
For four days, Jeong Seo-hoon monopolized the POSTECH particle accelerator, waging a solitary battle.
'That place and here operate under the same physical laws.'
That was why he was certain they shared the same universe.
Though it probably existed across unfathomable distances.
'But the scientific and technological levels there and here aren't the same.'
Their foundational science was advanced to a degree that would astonish Earth.
But applied science differed. Some areas surpassed Earth, while others lagged behind.
Likely an imbalance born from differing needs.
Military fields, in particular, were significantly behind Earth—thanks to a civilization long distanced from war.
But now, amid the great war, military tech was advancing rapidly.
With a solid foundational base already laid, progress outpaced even Earth's world wars.
'I don't need to implement that knowledge on Earth. I couldn't even if I tried.'
Building the groundwork from scratch would take time.
Even with unlimited capital, support, and decades poured in, success wasn't guaranteed.
'I just need to give a glimpse of the sun beyond the fog.'
Everyone lived in a land perpetually shrouded in thick fog on all sides.
They suspected a sun existed somewhere beyond, but no one knew its location or if it truly existed.
To Earthlings curious about the world beyond the fog, he would reveal the sun on the clear horizon. Prove it.
'No need to build the ship that can reach it.'
Humans learning of the sun's existence would strive to build ships to cross the roaring seas.
But they would chase an eternally unreachable horizon, endlessly yearning for the sun that never drew nearer.
The knowledge Jeong Seo-hoon chose to prove on Earth was that sun on the unreachable horizon.
The roaring seas were Earth's civilizational limits barring the way.
He would show the goal but not the path or means to reach it—lest his own dreams, his path as an actor, be forcibly twisted.
'The sun becomes the ideal utopia.'
Unattainable, hence utopian.
They wouldn't realize it wasn't on the horizon but high in the skies beyond.
Simply revealing that utopia would grant him unbreakable authority.
Authority over secrets from the stars, the right to reach the comet freely.
Yet proving the pilfered knowledge on Earth was difficult.
A crude rowboat like Earth's couldn't even safely navigate a river downstream, let alone the seas.
Scouting the direction to the sun beyond the fog was out of the question.
For four days, Jeong Seo-hoon labored to craft clues that clumsily pointed to answers he already knew.
The PD's camera rolled, but the lens's power didn't activate. Probably because he wasn't acting.
'No rushing. This isn't a one- or two-day job. Plan for years.'
But on the fourth day, his last night in Pohang, anxiety suddenly gripped him.
A four-year PhD wouldn't grant authority to reach the comet.
He needed to prove this knowledge.
Was it even possible with these facilities?
Shouldn't he venture to broader worlds—America, Europe?
"You look so cool buried in research. You don't even notice the camera. Or have you completely forgotten it's there?"
Song Jeong-woo's praise during a break snapped Jeong Seo-hoon back to reality.
"What did you just say?"
"Huh? That you seem to have completely forgotten the camera... Your total immersion in research is a sight to behold..."
Jeong Seo-hoon looked up, scanning his surroundings swiftly.
The enclosed control center seemed to spin around him.
Thick casings on electron wiring linked to the accelerator, walls lined with monitors displaying internal sectors by zone, dozens of seats for monitoring researchers...
This massive particle accelerator lab's existence pierced his sharpened senses clearly.
"The camera. Right—I'm inside a giant camera right now."
The particle accelerator was the camera.
The entire vast lab was a camera for observing the subatomic world.
The moment he realized it, his eyes burned. His body surged with heat.
The landscape transformed utterly.
His vision, once bound to visible light wavelengths, flung its aperture wide open toward the realm of fundamental energy flows.
A dizzyingly chaotic vista.
If a god existed that saw all, this might be the world it beheld.
Jeong Seo-hoon resumed controlling the equipment.
Tiny particles generated, swirling through the circular accelerator tunnel at light-converging speeds.
Their motion was now vivid.
Colors registered sharply.
Though minuscule particles couldn't hold human-perceivable colors, their temperature in hues felt vividly.
And they were immense.
So vast he feared being crushed, the accelerating particles loomed gigantic.
Myriad electromagnetic domains bristled on particle surfaces; around them danced capricious rules of strong and weak forces—regular and irregular.
At that instant, Jeong Seo-hoon smiled. Ecstasy boiled over onto his face.
-Professor Hwang Geon-wook, did you do it?
From afar, amid the rapture of the subatomic realm, a distant echo called him.
Slowly shifting his gaze and senses back to the macro world, Jeong Seo-hoon—Hwang Geon-wook or colonel, he wasn't sure—flaunted his genuine joy freely.
"I found the spark."
Returning late to the university lab, Hwang Gi-tae greeted him in his usual disheveled state.
"Good trip? Tough one, huh—acting, experimenting, must've been hectic."
"Wasn't that bad."
"Barely slept, right? You okay? Face looks good, though?"
"Got plenty of sleep."
"Yeah, you look great. You didn't just kill time on the experiment, did you?"
"No way. Who gets solo time on equipment that pricey?"
"Got some complaints, actually. Expected a professor-led team of grad students, not a first-year master's alone."
Not scolding, just relaying facts—like, heads-up, this happened.
"Must've been a hassle smoothing it over."
"Hassle? I snapped: Seo-hoon's better than a final-year PhD like me, heir to Professor Lee Se-jong, what do you know? They backed off quick."
Shoulders squared, brimming with pride.
Probably exaggerated, banking on no cross-checks.
"Gonna head to POSTECH more? Want me to line up schedules ahead?"
"Nah. No trips down for a while."
"Oh? Not much filming there, I guess."
"Not that. Gotta outline the thesis, and no more accelerator time anyway."
"No more need?"
Only then did curiosity spark in Hwang Gi-tae's weary eyes, focus sharpening.
Jeong Seo-hoon's fatigue-free face evoked a familiar relief.
Not just from good sleep— the lightness of solving a crushing homework burden...
Life flooded Hwang Gi-tae's face rapidly.
"You got a lead? Already?"
"Just the basics, still."
"Basics or not—that fast? How far? More experiments? Not into self-verification already?"
Jeong Seo-hoon just smiled silently; Hwang Gi-tae realized it was further along than thought and groaned.
"Dude, no way. You're not seriously finishing the PhD in three years, not four?"
"Might take a bit less than three. Rules won't allow it, though. Rest is like terminal leave."
"What the... Anyway, congrats."
"Sorry, hyung."
"Nah, why apologize? My eternal PhD grind was my choice. With a kid and family, mine's not slow."
Composing himself with a congratulatory smile, Hwang Gi-tae asked,
"So, thesis outline for now—when for verification experiments? Thesis done when?"
"Verification in Daejeon, not POSTECH. The Fusion Research Institute."
"Right, your big topic's fusion. But why particle collision down there?"
"Told you—had prelim checks. Done now."
"Basics locked means those prelims were key insights."
"Yeah."
Envy flickered in Hwang Gi-tae's eyes, but no jealousy.
"Defense industry should've exempted a guy like you outright, not some half-baked service..."
"Military was fine. Focused study alone, reteaching basics while instructing. Teaching others is real work."
"True. Especially ordinary high schoolers for you. Anyway, post-thesis, your idea help practical fusion?"
"New direction, maybe. Not huge immediate help."
Jeong Seo-hoon finished a short thesis draft and submitted it to Lee Se-jong.
After review, Lee Se-jong summoned him.
His expression, alternating between him and the draft, brimmed with pride.
"This idea—told you before, the concept's ingenious. Clever spark. But how to verify?"
"Not in this draft yet, but confirmed first hypothesis isn't wrong at POSTECH lab. Daejeon verification next, then bundle in."
"Jeong, if your idea proves true, help for KSTAR?"
KSTAR. Korea's independently developed experimental fusion reactor in Daejeon.
Like Hwang Gi-tae's question.
"Not sure. Thesis completion's the goal."
"Even partial success on spin interference merits a PhD. At least in my book. Daejeon when?"
"Daejeon shoot next week—can tinker then. But as a regular actor..."
Lee Se-jong nodded knowingly.
"Don't worry. I'll lead."