Perfectionist Professor Cheon Kyujin's Ordinary Year
Professor Cheon Kyujin's year had been as unremarkable as ever. Back when he was first hired as a professor at a top university, it felt like every childhood dream had come true. But human nature being what it is, everything eventually dulled. His passion for academia hadn't faded, but the growing scarcity of students who matched it brought a quiet sadness. He often described himself as a boring person. Unlike his younger sibling, he never started a family. His only joy was ordering late-night snacks for the exhausted grad students toiling in the lab, just to hang out with them. A slump in life, perhaps. He'd weathered "countless slumps" before, but this one eluded him.
With sabbatical coming next year, he planned to step back from his work and ponder his future deeply. That was before a suspicious auditing student showed up in his final class.
[I don't think we need to stick strictly to the material.]
A student in an avatar for the minimum VR age. Geniuses were often eccentrics. That tendency usually stemmed from loneliness. They craved social connection like anyone else, but their thinking, values, and linguistic-mathematical skills created communication barriers. They dove into one-sided obsessions—anime, sports cars, otaku stuff. Was she one of them?
But her answers were always extraordinary. Unlike in America, Korean students hated being questioned. Students grew weary in their own way, professors isolated in theirs. To bridge that gap, Korea University's natural sciences department—thanks to him, one of the first—introduced VR classes. The results? Not much change.
Yet this non-reelected student, who wandered in by chance, breathed life into Professor Cheon Kyujin. She didn't just grasp and apply lessons effortlessly; she challenged him right back. Such students were rare.
But look, wasn't this one different?
[No matter how I look at it, the formula's too inefficient. Even at max speed, 0.3 seconds means no reason for this transmutation circle to be 5th Circle.]
He promised to review her question from class and spent two sleepless nights proving her point. Then, on the same day, when she wrote the exact same formula, he was floored.
'This kid's a real genius.'
Her operators were quirky, altering the formula's shape slightly, but the framework matched. That's why he'd waited for today. Two hours passed with no sign of her in the auditorium. Was she really not coming? Then he spotted a child identical to her avatar.
'She used her sibling's account all this time?'
But why send the sibling instead? If her health kept her away, he'd feel guilty for calling. He held back. Then shocking words slipped from the child's mouth.
"Sorry for the late intro. I'm NoName. Here to check my grade for Transmutation Circle Analysis."
"You're Nami?"
"Yeah. Problem?"
At first, he thought she was pranking him. This tiny kid—small enough to pass for five or six—looked up boldly. VR access started at seven, so generously, eight at most. Embarrassed, NoName scribbled a transmutation formula on spare paper next to the grade sheets. It was her signature "Kaizen Complete Transformation Matrix."
"The handwriting matches. Take a look."
Like a man possessed, Professor Cheon Kyujin flipped through until her name appeared.
Name: NoName (NO Name)
"..."
Suddenly, NoName's face paled. He realized it was the grade.
195/200
"Where did I go wrong?"
She glared like an insurance rep hit with a 90:10 fault ruling, insisting she bore zero blame, not even 1%.
"Let's see. This part here."
"Can't see."
NoName stretched on tiptoes, but it was out of reach. Seeing her tremble, the professor finally caught his mistake and handed her the sheet directly. Her tiny hands spread it wide with both arms just to read it. It was comical yet fascinating.
"Lots of students messed this up."
But NoName's face was deadly serious.
"Don't bullshit me. Why's this wrong?"
Her features twisted fiercely.
Mistakes were unforgivable. A kind of obsession.
[This time, we must properly reprimand Princess Estasha. How long will we tolerate her defying His Majesty's sacred orders and mingling with northern barbarians?]
One mistake led to death in that savage world.
[What to do... It's reached the point where your single life won't suffice.]
My hands bore not just my life.
[Sorry, Princess, but we can't delay the northern conquest any longer.]
I understood. But I couldn't accept it. None of you could understand me. Every day felt like walking on thin ice.
Did that world meet a miserable end without me? Or find new hope? Who knows. I didn't care anymore.
But habits etched into my soul over 25 years still shaped me deeply. They wouldn't vanish. My heart raced uncontrollably, fury boiling. I was wrong? Really? No, I did nothing wrong. Not one thing. I can't be wrong. I have to be perfect.
"Kid, calm down..."
"Why'd you mark my formula wrong? Think Lagrange multipliers won't work because of boundary points? Wrong. My optimization condition is a sufficient one including boundaries. Still don't get it? How long do I have to explain?!"
Vision blurred. What was I doing? Mind foggy, world rocking like waves, melting like midsummer ice cream. Too hot to be cold, too bright to be dark. I'd felt this unpleasantness before—like shining a light on someone sleeping at dawn, forcing them awake.
Mana withdrawal.
It stripped judgment, paralyzed rational thought, then brought excruciating discomfort before blackout.
Of all times... I'd forgotten my morning potion. Stream alarm rushed me out. I desperately needed that tasteless, revolting mana potion.
Yeah, weird, right?
Yeah, not 'cause I want to.
Magic isn't a big deal. Mana's way riskier.
Example time? Air we breathe isn't one thing. Mix of gases.
Oxygen's the key one we need. Body picks it out when we breathe. Designed that way.
Nope. Pure oxygen kills. Breathing labors, vision fades, blackout. Die right there.
Yep. Why can't humans cast 9th Circle? No organ to purify mana. Higher magic wrecks you. Looks invincible outside, crumbling inside.
Worry not. I could beat the Demon King now.
No dinner for you.
Anyway, nothing in this world is useless. Air isn't pure oxygen; empire isn't just royals and nobles. Through storms, plagues, wars, the people looking to tomorrow hold it together.
We try.
I could.
Wanna bet?