No Such Thing as "Absolute"
The Four Absolutes: No Intention, No Necessity, No Rigidity, No Self (No Self)
Modern South Koreans harbor a few common misconceptions. The first is that tired joke: "Humanities majors have to head to ancient Greece just to find a job." Of course, that's utter nonsense. Do people think humanities is a joke? Why bother going to ancient Greece at all? Even back then, literature, philosophy, and history scholars couldn't land steady work.
The famous poets, philosophers, and chroniclers of those days were all either filthy rich themselves, buddies with the filthy rich, or at the very least, mooching off rich patrons' coin. Otherwise, they had proper day jobs on the side. Take some examples. Plato? Scion of a cushy aristocratic family. Aristotle? From a lineage of royal physicians—practically gods among men. Pythagoras was born into a family of jewelers and artisans. Widen the lens to the world at large: Buddha was a prince, Confucius wasn't wealthy himself but had plenty of rich disciples footing his bills. Laozi of Daoism was Zhou nobility, and Legalist Han Feizi took it further—he was Han royalty.
So, diving headfirst into humanities when you're broke and lack the social chops to befriend the moneyed class? That's a fool's errand in any era.
The second misconception: Even if jobs did exist back then, hardly any humanities major would be crazy enough to go. Economists agree across the board: "A modern middle-class life beats even the opulence of early 20th-century titans like Carnegie." This isn't hyperbole—scholars have crunched the numbers and charts to prove it beyond doubt. If the world's richest back in the 1900s lived worse than today's average Joe, what's the point?
A literature major plagiarizing modern works for cash? A philosophy whiz spouting profound jargon to land a guru gig? A historian leveraging future knowledge at 120% to forge an empire? Big deal. Unless you're one of those weirdos who'd rather rule a refugee camp in an African warzone than live as a modern everyman, sticking to contemporary civilization as a commoner is always the better bet.
And so, our shrewd 21st-century South Korean youth, Lee Yeon, had zero intention of making a dumb choice like that. Sure, majoring in history was a bit of a misstep, but as mentioned before, it didn't cramp his style for survival—he was a pampered heir. By the standards of an advanced nation like South Korea, he enjoyed a solid middle-class quality of life, complete with an inheritance that could sustain a lifetime of leisure without dipping into the principal.
With that kind of security, history remained a hobby and academic pursuit, nothing more. The idea of tumbling into some historical world to "live it out"? Not even on his radar. Why ditch a modern existence stocked with webnovels, internet forums, global scholarly debates at the click of a button, air conditioning, heating, top-tier medical care, and mouthwatering delivery food?
If someone straight out of a webnovel popped up asking, "Want to reincarnate in another world?" he'd shut it down flat: No. Absolutely, positively no way he'd ever set foot in another world.
"I'll grant you a chance at a new life. So avenge my injustice—avenge it!"
"Nah, pass."
But lo and behold, there really is no such thing as absolute.