Future Dream

"Ugh... I don't want to take electives..."

The major class had ended, but Lee Min-ho was face-down on the desk, whining that he didn't want to go to his elective class.

We really needed to leave soon or we'd be a nuisance to the next class using the room.

Still, curiosity got the better of me, so I shook Lee Min-ho awake and pulled him to his feet.

The sight of him worn down to the bone, looking like he was on death's doorstep, was a little frightening.

So this is how completely a person can collapse.

"Which elective?"

"Life, Death, and Religion."

"That sounds interesting though?"

Wasn't that the elective I'd tried and failed to get into?

I remembered it being extremely popular since it was Pass/Non-Pass.

And on Everytime, the ratings weren't bad either.

But Lee Min-ho had an unexpected assessment.

"The content is interesting. But the professor is way too intense."

When a professor was described as intense, there were usually two possible reasons.

Either they had a prickly personality, or the assignments and exams were excessively difficult.

Most of the time it was the latter; the former was rarer than people thought.

After all, university was a place where someone with a fundamentally broken character couldn't easily survive as a professor.

"Now that you mention it, I did hear there were a lot of assignments."

"Now she's even sending out assignments in the group ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chat on days we don't have class..."

"That's a bit..."

If a class I was taking pulled that kind of stunt, I'd be scoring a flat zero on assignments every single day for not doing them.

No matter how much of a professor you were, there were limits. Wasn't she laboring under the delusion that students only took her class?

Otherwise, I couldn't make sense of it.

"Guess she thinks we're only taking her class."

Lee Min-ho seemed to think the same thing.

Then he pulled a piece of gum from his pocket, popped it into his mouth, and began chewing aggressively.

Seemed like he was under quite a bit of stress.

"Want one too?"

"Yeah."

I put the gum Lee Min-ho handed me into my mouth and chewed softly.

The clean taste of xylitol freshened up the inside of my mouth,

and as expected, chewing on something made me feel like the drowsiness would fade away.

"I wouldn't have been able to study if it weren't for gum."

"Because you're tired?"

"Partly that, but I can't really focus if I'm not chewing on something."

"Isn't it usually the opposite..."

That was why eating during class was generally discouraged.

Because if you were chewing something in your mouth, your attention would gravitate toward that, and your ears wouldn't pick things up as well.

"So? Have you ever missed an assignment even once?"

"Not once. So far, at least."

"So far?"

Did that mean one was coming soon?

Lee Min-ho was a pretty resolute guy, the type who actually followed through once he decided on something, so that made it a little scary.

"That's why I'm going on strike for this assignment."

"You'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just lose points on your grade."

And what if he ended up getting an F and crashing his grade completely?

Missing one assignment probably wouldn't get him an F, but didn't the concept of a spite penalty exist?

From what I understood, grading was entirely at the professor's discretion anyway, so they could hand out whatever grade they wanted and it wouldn't be a problem.

Thinking about it that way, rebelling against a professor seemed like a truly terrible idea.

"It's fine, it barely dings you. And it's not even my major."

"Hmm... well, it's your grade."

Fair enough. He could just not take that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠professor's classes from now on.

Since it was an elective and not a major, that was one possible approach.

I glanced at Jeong Hwan-yi sitting next to me, and his face was full of worry too.

If Lee Min-ho looked like he was at death's door from exhaustion, then Jeong Hwan-yi's face looked ready to snap from the strain — wasn't that the right way to put it?

Though the difference was basically physical exhaustion versus mental strain.

"You two are clearly taking the same elective. Can't you work together?"

"Every single day is an individual assignment. And each person gets assigned a different topic, so we can't even work together."

"Wow... that's brutal."

Just how seriously did she take these assignments to pull that kind of insane stunt?

Didn't that course alone have more than five sections?

How could the assignment be different for every single person?

The thought of checking each assigned task and grading answers individually — I couldn't even imagine doing it.

If I tried to follow suit and pull something like that, I'd probably lose my mind.

No, wasn't the class captain for that course already on the verge of losing theirs?

"Jeong Hwan-yi, you're not the class captain for that elective, are you?"

"I am, actually...."

"Ah... hang in there..."

I felt like I now understood why he was in that state.

The class captain was basically the class president.

He was already busy enough keeping up with daily assignments, and now he had to handle the professor's menial work on top of his own.

Horrifying. Absolutely horrifying.

"Still, the professor guaranteed me an A+."

"And no one really complained... except for the people taking her class for the first time."

Which meant that, exhausting and irritating as it was, the class was worth taking.

And yet he still didn't want to be the captain — maybe he thought the demerits far outweighed the merits.

"Should I just take the F and forfeit the credits? I heard you can do that once you're a junior."

"But once you're a junior, you won't even have time to take electives."

"Ugh... really?"

From junior year onward, there was no time for electives.

Your schedule would be packed solid with major courses, and you'd only be able to squeeze electives into whatever leftover scraps of time you had.

Taking electives became genuinely difficult.

Unless you were retaking a course, electives were treated as lower-year lectures,

so you couldn't sign up for them during the initial registration period — you could only apply during the add/drop correction window.

"Still, our department probably won't have that much trouble filling graduation credits, so maybe one course wouldn't..."

"In that case..."

I hadn't exactly egged him on, but after hearing that it wouldn't be too hard,

Lee Min-ho's heart seemed swayed — he was brimming with the idea of just taking an F on his transcript.

At times like this, wasn't bringing Lee Min-ho back to reality

the whole purpose of being a friend?

"No. The semester ends next month anyway, so just stick it out."

"Ugh... you jerk..."

"It's all for your own good. What kind of jerk says stuff for your benefit?"

I smiled wryly as I watched Lee Min-ho slam his head back down onto the desk. Then I pulled the bag hanging on my right side loose

and placed my major textbooks inside one by one.

At that, Jeong Hwan-yi, who had been listening in on our conversation, spoke up.

"What about the one you're taking? How is it?"

"History of Eastern Culture? It's not bad."

"I'm jealous... I should've just taken that instead."

Jeong Hwan-yi, worn down by extreme fatigue, expressed his envy toward me.

From what I'd heard, Jeong Hwan-yi apparently liked history quite a bit.

"But even though it's called History of Eastern Culture, I thought it would just be about Northeast Asia. Turns out it covers all of Southeast Asia too."

"Hmm... wouldn't that make it way too hard?"

"For me, Japanese and Chinese history are interesting because they're connected to Korean Peninsula history, but places like Vietnam..."

"Ah... yeah, that does sound kind of boring."

To be honest, I knew absolutely nothing about the history of Indochinese Peninsula countries like Vietnam or Thailand.

If anything stuck in my memory, was it just the Nguyen Dynasty?

No, wait — was Nguyen Thailand?

History was only fun within the bounds of your own interest; studying the history of a country you had zero interest in was never going to be enjoyable.

For me, Southeast Asia and South America fell squarely into that category.

"So my goal is just to attend class decently and get a decent grade."

"Isn't that basically every university student's goal?"

"No way. Think about all the people who work their butts off trying to graduate with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an A+ as top of the class."

"True. If you want a job, you've gotta rack up those grades."

Our university, for all its faults, was an In-Seoul university, so finding a job probably wouldn't be too difficult.

Of course, I didn't know how the reality of being a humanities major in social welfare would actually play out. But still, this was a department that issued a Ministry of Health and Welfare Minister-Authorized Certificate,

so it probably wouldn't be too hard to find a job, right?

"By the way, Lee Min-ho. Are you going to get a job?"

"Why the sudden talk about jobs? I probably won't, right? I've got my CueTube channel and all."

"I'm torn. Whether I should get a job or not..."

Running a CueTube channel could be considered a profession, I supposed.

But if someone asked me whether I was satisfied with that, I could only tilt my head in doubt.

Because to me, CueTube was something more like a hobby, and I'd never fully thought of it as my primary occupation.

"I don't think you need to."

"Still, isn't it weird if I'm not earning anything?"

"You could just be a full-time homemaker."

A full-time homemaker.

Someone who handles the housework and looks after the kids at home.

If someday a child were born between A-ra and me, being a full-time homemaker wouldn't be a bad path.

But since we were still young and fresh, wasn't it more appropriate to think about the more immediate reality of having a workplace first?

"Hmm... full-time homemaker, huh..."

"Your wife earns well, and you're a guy who can make money even as a full-time homemaker, so what's there to hesi-Mang about?"

"If I were you, I'd have dropped out of school by now."

A guy who rakes in hundreds of millions worried about something called school... I smiled wryly as I watched Lee Min-ho mutter under his breath.

It wasn't exactly wrong, so there wasn't even anything to refute — which only made it funnier.

"Still, I have to graduate."

"What do you need a license for?"

"I want to get my Level 1 and eventually set up a welfare center someday."

Especially, I wanted to establish a welfare facility in the direction of an orphanage.

"Is this what they call having received a good upbringing?"

"His mom really raised him well."

"Ahem... anyway..."

Embarrassed, I turned my head away.

Was it because my mom was being praised? I felt bashful for no reason.