Projection Novel (Completed) - Chapter 103

“Kwon Sejin, please come see me for a moment after your exam. I sent you a message, but you haven’t seen it, have you? Just come to the professor’s office next to the department administration office.”

The rumor that Sejin didn’t know how to use a phone had even reached the professors. Sejin, in the middle of attendance, just gave a dry nod, “Yes,” when called unexpectedly, paying no mind to the female students around him who were giggling. He only focused on his desk, then shifted his gaze to the exam paper that had just been distributed.

Anatomy, a subject that first-year Nursing students began immediately… was the most difficult subject Sejin had ever faced. He thought he had gotten used to English after his university entrance exam and a trip, but those terms, full of English letters, were nothing like English vocabulary; memorizing them was maddening.

The intelligent Cheon Sejoo had helped Sejin review because he hadn’t forgotten any Anatomy knowledge, but this subject was more about memorization than understanding, so the results depended entirely on Sejin’s effort.

Could he get an A? Sejin stared intently at the exam paper, beginning to fill in each blank with what he had crammed into his head to the point of nausea.

“You worked hard. Please wait a moment in the professor’s office; I’ll be right there.”

Unlike other subjects where teaching assistants handled the final part, the Anatomy professor stayed until the last minute to collect the papers. Sejin was the last to submit, bowing to her before leaving the room. Click—the door closed, and the tension dissipated, a long sigh escaping him.

On his way to the professor’s office, he opened his phone to check messages. Two hours ago, Cheon Sejoo had messaged that he had arrived safely. Sejin messaged back that his exam was over and asked what he wanted for dinner tonight.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out.

“No one’s willing to swap, really?”

“Ah, it’s a bit embarrassing to say. And it’s not something to boast about, anyway…”

“Hey, it’s not boasting, but it’s not something to be ashamed of either. But fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, but are you just going to stay silent and hide?”

“Oh my god, I don’t know. Have you seen the dress yet? Is it short?”

“I haven’t seen it; the seniors prepared the outfits. But it’s not like wearing a dress always reveals everything, right? Hey, does wearing a dress always mean it’ll be exposed?”

It was the voices of Lee Hyunjung and Kim Jimin, Sejin’s classmates. Hyunjung had met Sejin at the interview and also smoothly got into the Nursing Department. She had been disappointed not to see Sejin at the orientation, thinking he had failed, but when she saw him again in the first general education class, she was overjoyed.

Even though Sejin wasn’t good at socializing, Hyunjung always proactively cared for him. Thanks to her, Sejin often knew about class cancellations earlier, even before arriving at school. Although it seemed like Hyunjung unilaterally cared for Sejin, she herself didn’t seem to mind much. She once said that just having a guy in the department who looked like an “older brother” was enough to comfort her, telling him not to pay it any mind. Few people in this world were like that, but Hyunjung seemed to really cherish handsome guys like Sejin.

In any case, since it was Hyunjung’s voice, Sejin couldn’t help but listen to that strange conversation.

“There’s no one else, right? Want to see? Look. See?”

Since the two were talking in the lounge area next to the professor’s office, Sejin couldn’t ignore them without glancing over. He reflexively turned his head towards the sound and saw Hyunjung, who usually only wore pants, lifting her skirt up to her knees.

On her left leg, there was a red burn mark that hadn’t healed yet.

It was then that Sejin understood the content of their conversation. The Nursing Department planned to open a butler and maid concept cafe for the festival this year. He had been too busy avoiding seniors who kept pulling at his sleeve to invite him whenever they met, but thanks to that conversation, he suddenly remembered the announcement that first-year students had to participate if they weren’t in any club.

Of course, Kwon Sejin was the type of person who believed that if something wasn’t legally mandatory, then “having to participate” was meaningless, so he ignored the notice. The seniors also seemed to have guessed that he wouldn’t participate. However, as the first-year class representative, Hyunjung couldn’t be absent from departmental activities, and that was clearly causing her distress.

Since his footsteps made no sound, the two didn’t notice Sejin passing by. Feeling like he had accidentally overheard a secret he shouldn’t have known, Sejin quickly turned away and quietly entered the professor’s office.

“Oh, Sejin, you’re here? Have a seat.”

The teaching assistant inside was typing something on her laptop. Seeing Sejin, she smiled kindly, and after he sat down, she opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of radish juice, and handed it to him.

“I heard you like this kind of thing. Wait a moment. The professor will be right here.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Sejin bowed and tried the strangely flavored juice, the only sound in the room being the typing of the keyboard. He glanced around the room full of books and printed materials, then stood up when he heard the door open.

“Have a seat.”

The professor gestured for Sejin to sit back down and handed the stack of exam papers to the teaching assistant. As she moved to the next table, the professor gave a few instructions regarding grading, then brewed a cup of coffee and sat opposite Sejin.

This was the first time Sejin’s advising professor, Kang Miyeon, had called him in privately. Usually, students who were called in would appear anxious, but Sejin was calm, as if he just wanted to finish quickly and go home. Kang Miyeon found Sejin’s demeanor both amusing and endearing, so she chuckled softly before speaking.

“So, after you graduate and pass the exam, which hospital do you plan to apply to?”

“…”

Sejin seemed surprised by the sudden question about his career path. After a moment of silence, he began to list a series of major hospitals among the top five where the nursing department of this school had good placement rates. Kang Miyeon smiled faintly, as if thinking, “I knew it.”

The reason she had called Sejin in on the last day of exams was none other than to encourage him to participate more in student life.

Although the ratio of male students in nursing was increasing year by year, gender imbalance still existed. While the actual work required a lot of physical strength, the number of female students still overwhelmingly dominated. Therefore, male students were always considered “rare,” and Kang Miyeon always tried to support them to train them into excellent nurses.

“If you go to Sunchon International General Hospital, you’ll have to work three rotating shifts with senior nurses, right? This is one of the three largest hospitals in Seoul; the work is immense and busy. I also worked there, but lasting more than a year isn’t easy. So Sejin, what do you think is most important to work smoothly in a place like that?”

The unexpected question made Sejin a little flustered for the first time. Unsure of the professor’s intention, he couldn’t ask her to get straight to the point and just thought in silence before answering:

“Professional skills?”

“Skills?”

The professor laughed at the answer and then nodded with a gentle smile.

“That’s not wrong. If your graduation grades are low, your application will be rejected, so you need the ability to prove yourself as a good nurse. But there’s something even more important: the ability to communicate with colleagues, in other words, communication and cooperation. Do you think you’re good at those things?”

Sejin hadn’t expected such an “attack,” so he bit his inner lip slightly and shook his head.

“No…”

Though he didn’t want to admit it, Sejin knew he was poor at communication and cooperation. Since he had never made an effort to integrate with others, saying he was “poor” was an understatement; it was more like he didn’t care.

Before, this wasn’t an obstacle. His high school didn’t have many group assignments, and in middle school, even if he didn’t participate in group work, no one noticed, but university was different.

University was a place that trained human resources for society, so it aimed to teach cooperation skills. Since many general education courses replaced final exams with group assignments, Sejin had been a little worried. Now, hearing the professor say this, his heart felt even heavier.

At Sejin’s lifeless answer, the professor smiled faintly and asked:

“If you yourself realize it, there’s still a chance to change. I am your advising professor, and I want you to become an excellent member of society, a recognized nurse in the field. Therefore, I want to advise you to participate in this festival. I heard you didn’t attend either the OT or the MT, only chatted a little with Hyunjung. But from the second semester, first-years will have more group assignments, so it’s better for you to learn how to integrate with your friends now. And nothing helps bond faster than alcohol, right? Even though I’m a professor, I accidentally said that.”

In the end, she was telling him to participate in the festival. Sejin wanted to argue that he didn’t necessarily have to develop social skills that way, and that those skills would naturally develop once he started working, but the phrase “a member of society” that she uttered held him back.

Kwon Sejin truly didn’t want to become useless to society like his biological father, Kwon Yongbeom. He wanted to become someone essential to society. He wanted someone to need him, to need his help.

“I understand. Goodbye, Professor…”

“You worked hard studying for the exam. Go carefully.”

Sejin bowed and left the professor’s office with a heavy heart.

Since most exams were over, the nursing department was almost empty today. He walked through the corridor, where a few students were scattered, looking for empty classrooms to study for their afternoon exams, then headed up to the second floor to stop by his locker before going home.

After putting his specialized books into his bag, Sejin didn’t go downstairs immediately but walked towards the terrace at the corner of the second floor of the nursing department.

The terrace was located below the large lecture hall on the third floor, with large glass doors, metal tables and chairs, and long chairs similar to sun loungers. This was a place students in medicine and pharmacy called the “recovery room” because it was always crowded, but today it seemed quiet due to the exams.

Sejin bought a large chocolate milk and a cream bun from the vending machine and walked to a table in the corner of the terrace. He sat down, looked up at the clear blue sky and the campus stretching out below, then fell into thought.

Am I really that lacking in social skills?

It wasn’t that Sejin had never thought about it in his life. He knew very well that he wasn’t good at getting along with others, and the reason largely lay with himself.

However, believing that humans were inherently lonely creatures, he felt there was no need to emotionally connect with others unless absolutely necessary. Sejin had carried this rather philosophical thought for a long time, and thus had never tried to change.

But what if that truly became a toxin in social life… shouldn’t he try to integrate with others a little? Sejin had never had to worry about this issue before, so he chewed his bun while thinking.

The cream bun disappeared in his stomach after just two bites, and the chocolate milk was empty after three sips, yet his stomach was still hungry. “I should stop by the cafeteria before going home,” Sejin thought, picking up his phone to text Cheon Sejoo.

12:31

[Cheon Sejoo, am I lacking in social skills?]

The message was replied to very quickly.

[My love

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]

12:32

“…”

Just laughing without answering made Sejin a little embarrassed, his cheeks flushed, his lips pouted. He was about to text back “What are you laughing at?” when his phone rang; it was Cheon Sejoo calling.

“What are you laughing at?”

As soon as he picked up, he blurted out that question. Cheon Sejoo’s voice, still tinged with laughter, replied:

— Ah, nothing, why are you suddenly asking such a strange question? Are you self-reflecting? Are you a Buddhist?

“…Don’t tease me.”

— I’m not teasing, or did I misremember your schedule? Are you secretly taking a psychology class?

“Cheon Sejoo.”

Sejin’s slightly annoyed tone made the other person stop joking and chuckle softly. While Sejin took out his Chinese textbook from his bag and copied notes into his notebook, Cheon Sejoo pondered for a moment before speaking:

— Well, I can’t say you’re good at social communication. You know that, don’t you? You’re not asking because you don’t know, are you?

It was a blunt remark, as usual.

“…I know! I know!”

— I love you even if you lack social skills… but at university, it might really be a problem. But why suddenly, Sejin? Did someone say something to you? Did someone tell you you’re a loner with no friends? Or did they say you only have a pretty face?

“What are you talking about? It’s not about those things. After the exam, the professor called me in for a private talk, and she mentioned similar things.”

— The professor scolded you for lacking social skills?

Suddenly, Cheon Sejoo’s voice turned cold. Sejin felt his heart tremble slightly at that anger, as if he was moved that someone was defending him. The corner of Sejin’s lips curved slightly, and he quickly shook his head to suppress a smile, then recounted the conversation with Professor Kang Miyeon to Cheon Sejoo.

After listening, Cheon Sejoo’s voice softened as if his previous anger had never existed. He made an “aha” sound, then chuckled, nodding in agreement.

— The professor is right. I saw it when I worked at the hospital. New nurses who quit early are often those who can’t integrate with colleagues. The work is already tiring; if you can’t rely on each other, can’t communicate, it becomes even harder and lonelier. The professor probably thought so too, which is why she mentioned it to you.

“…If I keep going like this, I’ll quit early too, won’t I?”

Sejin asked softly. Cheon Sejoo was silent, seemingly thinking for a moment, then replied:

— It’s hard to say. But if you quit, it won’t be because you’re lonely or because no one talks to you, but because you don’t want to cause others difficulty just because you can’t communicate or cooperate. Perhaps you’ll withdraw because you don’t want to cause trouble for anyone else. I think so.

Indeed, as Cheon Sejoo said, Sejin wasn’t the type of person who would be hurt just because no one talked to him or he couldn’t fit in. But if his lack of social skills led to negative consequences at work and affected patients, Sejin would seriously consider quitting.