Everything He Built Must Fall
A few days later.
The office near campus.
"As you instructed, sir, I've met with the graduate students who once studied under Cho Sung-shik."
Jung Tae-sung spread open a folder and began his report.
"How did it go?"
"Worse than I expected."
Jung Tae-sung's expression was rigid. For a man who so rarely let emotion show, a reaction like this meant things were truly serious.
"To start, Min-seung's case was not an isolated one. Claiming his students' research as his own was practically standard practice for him."
Jung Tae-sung turned a page.
"Take a certain Mr. Kim, who graduated in 2001. His master's thesis was published in an international journal with Professor Cho Sung-shik as lead author. The man himself wasn't even listed as a co-author."
"......."
"In 2003, an algorithm developed by a Mr. Park was filed for patent by Professor Cho. Mr. Park's name was nowhere among the inventors."
I listened in silence.
"And that's not all. There's evidence he collected money from graduate students under the pretense of research expenses, then spent it on personal matters. On one occasion, he took conference registration fees and used them for a family vacation."
"So it's embezzlement of research funds."
"Yes. Though only a portion of it comes with solid evidence."
Jung Tae-sung turned another page.
"The more serious issue is his dealings with corporations. He sold foundational technology developed in his lab to companies under his own name. Naturally, his students never saw a single won of it."
"The university didn't know?"
"They knew, and looked the other way. Professor Cho brings in enormous research funding. From the university's standpoint, he was the goose that laid the golden eggs."
I let out a long breath.
"Why did the victims stay quiet?"
"Because fighting back meant losing. Academia is a narrow world, and Professor Cho's connections are wide. There was even a case where someone raised the issue and ended up getting buried instead."
A rigged playing field. For a powerless graduate student, standing up to a professor was all but impossible. And so everyone who got hurt kept their mouths shut.
"And finally......"
Jung Tae-sung paused for a moment.
"One of them was diagnosed with depression. Another left academia entirely. They gave up on their dream of being a researcher."
I raised a hand.
"That's enough. It's painful to hear."
A tenured professor in his thirties. On the tenure track before forty. Every glittering title attached to the name Cho Sung-shik had been built on the exploitation of someone else.
It turned my stomach.
"How do we make his fall hurt the most?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I want him to feel, exactly as it was felt, every ounce of suffering he inflicted on other people."
Jung Tae-sung had no answer to that. Silence settled over the room for a while.
"There's only one reason men like him go this far."
I spoke slowly.
"Money."
Honor? Academic achievement? Those words would mean nothing to Cho Sung-shik. Only one thing mattered to him: how much cash he could squeeze out of the position he occupied. Selling his students' technology, embezzling research funds, latching onto corporations for consulting work — it all came down to money.
"Then we take away the thing Cho Sung-shik loves and protects most."
I looked at Jung Tae-sung.
"His money."
The look in Jung Tae-sung's eyes shifted.
"As it happens, my investigation also turned up suspected embezzlement of university funds."
I tapped the folder lightly.
"And the deals with corporations — if those contracts fall through, he'll owe staggering penalty fees, won't he?"
"Yes. In particular, the Sunjin Motors deal is still at the contract stage. He was supposed to hand over Min-seung's technology, but since he doesn't have the technology......"
"Then it's breach of contract."
"Exactly. And his previous technology deals could become a problem as well. If it comes to light that the original owner of those technologies wasn't Professor Cho, the contracts themselves could be voided."
I nodded.
"Just as you say, sir — the money he treasures most will disappear. And once the embezzlement breaks, the university won't sit still either."
"Good."
I rose from my seat.
"Then let's take it one step at a time."
First, we had to cut down whatever Cho Sung-shik was currently pouring his energy into.
"Let's sever the Sunjin Motors connection first. Leak information to them — tell them Cho Sung-shik is a liability."
"Understood."
"Sunjin Motors hates getting singed by someone else's fire. They'll cut him loose on their own."
Jung Tae-sung nodded.
"Next is the exposé. Are any of the victims willing to testify?"
"Several are. They did ask that their identities be protected......"
"Of course. Proceed anonymously, and arrange legal support if they need it."
"Yes, sir."
I sat back down and said,
"We're going to demolish everything Cho Sung-shik has built. His money, his reputation, his position — all of it."
My eyes fell on the names of the victims written across the documents. The time they had lost, the dreams they had abandoned. Cho Sung-shik was going to pay for every last one.
"Let's begin."
A few days later.
The Industrial Engineering research lab at Hankook University.
Cho Sung-shik sat glaring at the manuscript spread across his desk.
The research materials Seo Min-seung had left behind. Adaptive reinforcement learning-based robot motion optimization. The idea was undeniably brilliant — completed as intended, it was research capable of sending shockwaves through entire industries.
The problem was.
"Why won't this thing work......"
Cho Sung-shik tore at his hair. He simply could not understand Seo Min-seung's algorithm. He could read the equations. He could follow the logical flow. But the heart of it — where to even begin making changes — completely eluded him.
Did that bastard deliberately leave things out?
When Seo Min-seung left the lab, Cho had told him to hand over his materials. And he had. But looking at them now, the crucial notebooks were missing. The skeleton of the algorithm was there, stripped of any method for putting flesh on its bones. It was structured so that no one could finish it alone.
"Goddammit......"
Cho Sung-shik spat a curse and leaned back in his chair. Sunjin Motors kept calling. They wanted progress reports. They wanted results, and fast. Every time, he had fobbed them off with it's in progress — but that excuse was reaching its limits.
Bzzzt—
Just then, his phone rang on the desk. He glanced at the screen: the managing director of Sunjin Motors' research institute. Cho snatched it up.
"Yes, Director. It's an honor."
"Professor Cho, what exactly is going on down there?"
The director's voice was unlike his usual self. Cold, and razor-sharp.
Cho Sung-shik's heart plummeted. An abrupt question like that — he had no answer to give, and it unsettled him.
"Pardon? The research, if you could just give us a little more time......"
"Forget the research."
The director cut him off.
"We want the research funds we provided returned."
"I'm sorry — what?"
"We were deceived by you, Professor Cho. That's the only reason we gave you the money. Am I making myself clear?"
Making himself clear? With nonsense like that?
"What on earth are you saying, Director?"
"In any case, our position has been made known. Return the research funds promptly, or things will become very uncomfortable for you. Next time you won't be speaking with me — you'll be meeting our general counsel."
"Director, please, I......"
"That will be all."
Click. Click. Click.
The line went dead, unilaterally. Cho Sung-shik stared blankly at his phone.
Return the research funds? And what's this about a general counsel?
Granted, he had failed to deliver the results he owed them. But to unilaterally sever the contract like this, out of nowhere? What on earth was happening?
Knock knock.
Then came a knock at the door. It burst open and his teaching assistant rushed in, scrambling, his face drained white.
"Professor!"
"What is it?"
"There's — there's a post on the internet right now, exposing you—"
"What? An exposé?"
Cho Sung-shik shot to his feet. The assistant hurried over and pulled up the screen. An anonymous online community. A long post filled the display.
Cho Sung-shik's eyes raced across the text.
'2001: theft of Kim ○○'s master's thesis......'
'2003: unauthorized patent filing of Park ○○'s algorithm......'
'Suspected embezzlement of research funds — conference fees spent on family vacation......'
'Collusion with corporations including Sunjin Motors; sold his students' technology for pocket change......'
His hands began to tremble. It was all true. No — it was more detailed than the truth. Even things he himself had forgotten were written there.
Who — who wrote this......
He scrolled down, and anonymous testimonies from his victims followed one after another.
'I had two years of my research stolen from me.'
'Thanks to the professor, I was diagnosed with depression.'
'I had no choice but to leave academia.'
Cho Sung-shik's face turned ghostly pale.
"Professor, it's already on the portal main page—"
"What?"
"It's in the trending searches too. 'Hankook University professor abuses students' and 'research fund embezzlement.'"
The assistant's words barely registered. Cho Sung-shik stood frozen, staring at the monitor. Comments were flooding in beneath the post.
His fingertips went cold. A tenured professor in his thirties. The tenure track before forty. Everything he had spent his entire life building.
It's over......
It was all collapsing.
A few days later, at Mom's Hand Restaurant, Min-seung and I were eating lunch while the news played on the TV. The screen showed the main gate of Hankook University, a reporter standing with a microphone, relaying the situation.
"How did the other victims find out about all this?"
Min-seung asked, pausing mid-bite.
"We'd been preparing. Even without you, senior, Cho Sung-shik had plenty of victims tangled up in his mess — I was always planning to detonate it sooner or later."
Min-seung nodded at my answer, though he couldn't tear his eyes from the TV screen. Perhaps because he knew he had come within a hair's breadth of becoming one of those victims himself.
"The university investigation is done, so now the real process begins. He's been suspended from his professorship, and the embezzlement, the private misuse, and all his other misconduct still have to be answered for in a court of law."
"Yeah...... I suppose that's how it has to be."
"The prosecution may call you in as a witness too, senior. If it's too much for you, you don't have to go—"
"I'm going."
Min-seung looked at me, his expression set with resolve.
"There are plenty of victims besides me. If I bow out just to stay comfortable, only Cho Sung-shik wins."
"I'll assign you a lawyer."
"Thank you."
I nodded, watching him. That was enough about Cho Sung-shik. What mattered now was what came next.
"So what will you do now? Go back to school?"
Min-seung thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"No. I can keep doing research without a university. And honestly, whatever affection I had for that place is gone."
A wise decision. In a university, research was never truly free anyway — research done to win grants, research done to pad publication records. The work you actually wanted to do was perpetually shoved to the back of the line.
"So what am I supposed to do now?"
"I'm sorry — what?"
"You told me, remember? That from now on, my choices should be for your sake."
A quiet laugh escaped me. He was quoting what I'd said when we joined hands.
I pulled the documents I had prepared in advance from my bag and handed them across the table. Min-seung took them, looking at me with eyes that demanded an explanation.
"You're moving to the provinces."
"The provinces?"
"I have a small business in Ulsan."
I told him about Shinhwa Weltech.
"A plot of land nearby recently came on the market, and I bought it. Your research lab — and your first company — is going to be built there."
Min-seung's face registered surprise. In truth, I had started drawing up this plan the moment I decided to make him one of my people. The purchase of the Ulsan site had been part of it all along.
"Your personal roots are in the Yeongnam region too, if I'm not mistaken. Am I wrong?"
"That's true, but...... you want me to run a business?"
"Yes. You're more than capable."
"Based on what, exactly?"
"Just a feeling? A feeling-feeling?"
This man really needed to learn to trust himself a little more — the man who would go on to build such a magnificent startup in the future. He was bewildered now, of course, but he'd come through it just fine. Unlike Park Jin-hyuk of Shinhwa Weltech, Seo Min-seung was both a brilliant engineer and a brilliant businessman. He understood the technology, he understood people, and he understood money. Men like that were rare.
"When you go down, I'll have a team in place to help with the management side, so route anything you need through them. And spend as much money as you want."
I paused, then looked Min-seung squarely in the eye.
"But."
My expression hardened.
"Build the finest robots in the world. Twenty, thirty years from now, I want the robots made by your company used in manufacturing across the entire globe. That is what I want from you, senior."
Min-seung stared at me for a long moment before speaking.
"And that will be my revenge on Sunjin Motors?"
"Without question."
No matter how enormous Sunjin Motors grew, it was, in the end, just an automaker. Robots were different. Cars, semiconductors, shipbuilding — every one of them would soon require robots equipped with artificial intelligence. Perhaps this would become the foundational technology of all future manufacturing, and whoever held it first would find a company like Sunjin Motors barely worth mentioning.
"All right."
Min-seung nodded.
"I'll go down to Ulsan."
At those words, I broke into a broad smile.
"Looking forward to working with you, senior."
"Same here."
We would run forward together, bound by a common goal. Revenge was only the beginning; the true target lay far beyond it.
In the very place where we had first met, we promised each other a new beginning.