Ch.1616 – Perfectionist

Professor Cheon Kyu-jin’s year had been nothing special, just like any other.

Once upon a time, when he was hired as a professor at a prestigious university, he felt like he had achieved all his childhood dreams. But as human nature dictates, everything eventually dulls with time.

Though his passion for academia remained undiminished, he felt sad that fewer students seemed to share this enthusiasm as time went on.

Cheon Kyu-jin always described himself as a boring person.

Unlike his sibling, he never started a family.

He disliked going home so much that his only joy in life was occasionally buying late-night meals for graduate students suffering in the lab.

A life slump, if you could call it that. He had experienced “many slumps” before, but he wasn’t sure how to process this particular one.

Next year would be his sabbatical, so he planned to distance himself from his main work and deeply contemplate his future direction.

That was until a suspicious auditing student appeared in his final class.

[I don’t think we need to be constrained by conventional materials.]

A student using an avatar that appeared to be the minimum age allowed in virtual reality.

Geniuses were often eccentric.

This tendency usually stemmed from loneliness.

They have the same desire to socialize as everyone else, but their different thought processes, values, and linguistic or mathematical abilities create communication barriers.

They eventually become absorbed in one-directional interests.

Whether it’s animation or sports cars—something distinctly otaku-like.

Was this student one of those types? But her answers were always extraordinary.

Unlike in America, Korean students really hate being asked questions.

Students grow tired in their own way, while professors become increasingly isolated.

To bridge this gap, he became one of the first to introduce virtual reality classes at Korea University’s College of Natural Sciences.

As you can see, the results hadn’t changed much.

But this girl, who wasn’t even an enrolled student, breathed new life into Professor Cheon Kyu-jin.

It was rare to find a student who not only understood and applied what they learned but also challenged him with problems of their own.

But look, wasn’t this student different?

[No matter how I look at it, this formula is too inefficient. If it takes 0.3 seconds at maximum speed, there’s no reason for this mana formation to be 5th circle.]

After receiving this question during class, he said he would review it by the next session. He stayed up for two full nights to prove her assertion.

But on the same day, when she showed him the exact same formula he had derived, he couldn’t help but be amazed.

‘This student is a true genius.’

Although her operators for mana formations were somewhat unusual, making the formula look different, the fundamental structure was identical.

That’s why Professor Cheon had been looking forward to today.

After waiting two hours, she still hadn’t appeared in the lecture hall. Just as he was wondering if she wouldn’t come at all, he spotted a child who looked exactly like her avatar.

‘Had she been using her younger sibling’s account all this time?’

But why would her sibling come instead of her?

If it was because she wasn’t well enough to come, he would feel too guilty for having called her, so the professor held his tongue. But then shocking words escaped from the child’s mouth.

“Sorry for the late introduction. I’m NoName. I came to check my grade for the Mana Formation Analysis class.”

“You’re Name?”

“Yes, is there a problem?”

At first, he thought she might be joking.

A child with such a small frame that she could easily pass for five or six years old was looking up at him boldly.

Since virtual reality was only accessible from age seven, she was at most seven or eight years old.

Name, looking embarrassed, wrote a mana formation formula on the scratch paper stacked beside the grading sheets.

It was the “Kaizen Complete Transformation Matrix” that she frequently used.

“The handwriting should be the same. Please check.”

Professor Cheon, as if entranced, flipped through the answer sheets until he found her name.

[Name: No Na-me (NO Name)]

“…”

Suddenly, Name’s expression drastically deteriorated.

Professor Cheon realized it was because of her grade.

[195/200]

“Where exactly did I make a mistake?”

She had the demeanor of someone ready to argue point by point, like someone contesting a 90:10 fault determination in a traffic accident, insisting they weren’t even 1% at fault, let alone 10%.

“Let me see. This part here.”

“I can’t see it well.”

Name stood on her tiptoes as high as she could, but it still wasn’t within her view.

Seeing her trembling, the professor finally realized his mistake and handed the answer sheet directly to her.

With her tiny hands, she had to stretch her arms as far as possible just to barely see the answer sheet.

The sight was both amusing and fascinating.

“This is actually a part where many students made mistakes.”

But Name wore the most serious expression he had ever seen.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Why is this wrong?”

Name’s face contorted intensely.

* * *

Mistakes are unacceptable.

It was a kind of compulsion.

[This time, Princess Estasha Latias de Kaizen must be properly disciplined. How long will we allow her to disobey the imperial decree and associate with the barbarians of the North?]

A savage world where one mistake leads to death.

[What shall we do… This has gone beyond the point where just your life alone will suffice.]

My hands held more than just my own life.

[I’m sorry to the Princess, but it seems we can no longer delay the northern expedition.]

I understand. But I can’t understand.

None of you would understand me either.

Every day felt like walking on thin ice.

Would that world without me have met a miserable end, or would it have found new hope?

I don’t know. I don’t even want to care anymore.

But the habits engraved in my soul over 25 long years still constituted a large part of me, and that personality hadn’t disappeared.

My heart is racing uncontrollably, and I feel like I’m about to explode with anger.

I made a mistake?

Really?

No, I didn’t make any mistakes.

Not a single one.

I don’t make mistakes.

I can’t make mistakes.

Because I have to be perfect.

“Hey, kid, calm down…”

“Why did you say my formula was wrong? Do you think Lagrange multipliers can’t be used because of the boundary points?

No, if that’s what you think, you’re absolutely wrong. The optimization conditions I used include sufficient conditions for boundary points.

Still don’t understand? How much longer do I have to spell it out for you!”

My vision is blurry.

What am I doing right now?

My mind feels hazy, and the world sways like waves, melting like ice cream on a hot summer day.

The world was too hot to be called cold, and too bright to be called dark, making my eyes sting.

This unpleasant feeling, like someone shining a light on a sleeping person at dawn and forcibly waking them up—I had felt it before.

Mana withdrawal.

Mana withdrawal impairs judgment, paralyzes rational thinking, and ultimately causes unconsciousness accompanied by extreme discomfort.

Of all times… I just realized I forgot to take my potion this morning.

It was partly because I rushed out when the alarm went off during my stream.

I desperately needed that disgusting, tasteless mana potion right now.

* * *

[Mana withdrawal? Not a rampage? Can you get addicted to mana?]

Yes, surprising, isn’t it?

[Is that why you drink monster blood every day?]

Yes, I don’t drink it because I want to.

[That must be really painful. I learned that monster blood contains toxic components.]

The magic toxin isn’t a big deal. Mana is much more dangerous, if anything.

[That’s the first I’ve heard of this. The guild uncles said the more mana, the better.]

Let me give you an example. The air we breathe isn’t just one type. It’s a mixture of different kinds of air.

[Really? I didn’t know that either.]

Among them is something called oxygen. Oxygen is all we need.

When we breathe, our bodies naturally select the oxygen. That’s how we’re designed from the beginning.

[That’s fascinating. So the other air components aren’t necessary?]

No. If you breathe only oxygen, you’ll die.

Breathing becomes difficult, vision blurs, and eventually, you lose consciousness.

You just die like that, right in the midst of life.

[So mana is the same?]

Yes.

Do you know why humans can’t use 9th circle magic?

Because our bodies don’t have organs to refine mana.

The more high-level magic you use, the more damaged you become.

On the outside, you may seem infinitely stronger, but inside, you’re slowly crumbling.

[That’s a bit scary. Are you okay, sis?]

Such a worrier. I could beat a demon lord right now if I wanted to.

[You’re always fine until you start exaggerating at the end.]

No dinner for you tonight.

[Aaaaaaah why! I take it back! You’re amazing, sis!]

Anyway, nothing in this world is unnecessary.

Just as air isn’t composed of oxygen alone, this empire can’t consist of just the imperial family and nobles.

Whether there’s a downpour, a plague, or a war, the country exists because there are always people looking forward to tomorrow.

[I wish those high-up people would understand what you’re saying. Will the day ever come when the imperial family understands us?]

We have to try.

[What do you mean try? Could you go to the Baron right now and say exactly that? I’d be too scared to even make eye contact.]

I could.

[There you go with the bravado again.]

Want to bet?