I Became A Genius Of The French Royal Family [EN]: Chapter 1

Became a Genius of the French Royal Family 1. Prologue (1/355)

Prologue

“Ha… what a goddamn thesis. Finally finished it.”

Rubbing my eyes, I checked the time, and it was already 4 AM.

Honestly, this has become so routine that I don’t even feel anger, let alone sighing.

Among the liberal arts, the ‘History, Philosophy, and Literature’ trio are notorious for their hopeless employment rates.

Among them, I chose to pursue a Ph.D. in History, so I can’t blame anyone but myself.

But honestly, I didn’t know it would be this bad.

If I could go back to the past, I would never make the same choice.

History departments are infamous for their low employment rates and ridiculously long master’s and doctoral programs.

Even getting a master’s degree in five semesters is considered very fast, and many people spend seven or eight years in the doctoral program.

I was also stuck in the lab for seven years, slaving away on theses for a terrible professor.

When I first entered the undergraduate program, I felt like I had the whole world ahead of me.

I was an orphan without any family, but I studied like crazy to get into this prestigious university.

Even after entering the undergraduate program, I lived only to study, trying not to fall behind the talented students from all over the country.

From high school to college, I never slept more than six hours a day.

They say effort doesn’t betray you.

Thanks to my relentless and crazy efforts, my grades were quite good, and several professors looked favorably upon me.

One of them, Professor Lee Yong-wook, suggested that I go to graduate school, promising to take good care of me.

Professor Lee Yong-wook was one of the most prestigious professors in the university, as well as in the Korean Western history academic circle.

I naturally rejoiced and accepted his offer without hesitation.

I would complete my master’s and doctoral programs under Professor Lee Yong-wook, and naturally, I would establish myself as a professor here.

I had no doubt that such a rosy future would unfold before me.

But that was exactly when my life fell into an even deeper quagmire.

First of all, to get a Ph.D. in Western history, medieval English, German, French, and Latin are essential.

The amount of studying exploded to the point where I thought my undergraduate studies were just child’s play.

Still, I can tolerate this kind of studying because it’s for my own development.

The real problem is that Professor Lee Yong-wook, this bastard, exploits his graduate students like machines.

This son of a bitch lures promising students with sweet words, brings them under his wing, and then mercilessly pushes them to the limit.

Of course, it’s common for graduate students to handle the professor’s research achievements and assignments.

But this guy really went too far.

Just for me, I’ve written dozens of papers for this guy so far.

The topics were so diverse that I had to learn things like econometrics and data mining, which I never would have otherwise.

My main focus was France from the 17th to the 19th century, and thanks to that, I became almost a master in this field.

You could say I mastered everything in politics, economy, and society.

In return, I haven’t slept more than 4 hours a day since I started my doctoral program.

I drank coffee and energy drinks like water and achieved the nightmarish feat of having almost all my health checkup numbers reach dangerous levels.

What allowed me to endure this hellish life was that Lee Yong-wook at least provided decent compensation.

Lee Yong-wook had a personality that ensured he returned as much as he received, so that no one would stab him in the back.

The environment for studying itself was properly created, and I also received the opportunity to study abroad with a scholarship.

In my case, I even received a promise that he would help me become a professor after I completed my doctoral program and received my degree.

That’s why I’m doing this crazy thing, or else I would have set fire to the lab a long time ago.

Okay. Let’s just endure until graduation. All I need is the Ph.D.

When that time comes, Lee Yong-wook will enslave a fresh and healthy student instead of me, and I can be promoted to a liberated slave.

After saving the thesis file I had painstakingly completed on my computer and sending an email to the professor, I left the lab.

This thesis was especially important, so the professor allowed me to rest for about a week after completing it.

The devil even gave me a bottle of top-quality wine as a gift, as if he had a minimum of conscience.

It was a Chateau Petrus, which is said to be a luxury wine worth over 2 million won [approximately $1,500 USD] even when bought at a duty-free shop.

Seeing this, I felt like the professor wasn’t all that bad after all.

Is this what they call Stockholm syndrome?

I even felt dizzy at my own naivety, as if I was about to forgive the devilish professor.

I see. Is this why Machiavelli emphasized the balance of carrot and stick?

Thinking such nonsense, I took out a cigarette and put it in my mouth.

Even if I become a professor later, I shouldn’t do it like that. They say that nine out of ten people who think that way end up returning what they received, but I wonder what I will do.

The streets at dawn are eerily empty, and often pointless thoughts chase each other’s tails.

Sometimes I spot graduate students in the same situation as me, but we just exchange bitter smiles and go our separate ways.

Even when I arrived near my studio apartment, the streets were still empty.

At this hour, even the students in the Goshi village [an area known for its high concentration of students preparing for exams] are tossing and turning in their beds.

As for office workers, there would be almost no one commuting at this time, except for those wage slaves who are worked to the bone.

But starting tomorrow, I can stretch my legs and sleep soundly for a week.

Overwhelmed with small happiness, I checked the label of the wine I was holding precious in my arms one more time.

Then, my head spun, and my vision shook momentarily.

I’ve only been sleeping 2 or 3 hours a day for the past month, so it seems my body has finally broken down.

It’s obvious, but the human body is not a machine.

Like the famous quote from a director, it doesn’t get stronger the more you use it.

“Shit…”

Screech!

I was barely trying to regain my balance when I heard a chilling sound from behind.

At the same time, my body, which had floated into the air, spun around like a certain blue hedgehog.

The heavy sedan that hit me didn’t slow down at all and crashed straight into the wall.

Ah, so this is the hit-and-run accident I’ve only heard about.

If someone is driving like this at this hour, it’s obvious.

It must be someone who drank heavily until dawn and thought they wouldn’t get caught, so they grabbed the steering wheel.

In my fading vision, I saw the wine bottle soaring above.

Shit.

It’s absurd to die in a drunk driving hit-and-run, but it’s even more frustrating to go without even knowing the taste of the wine that costs millions of won.

Is this really the end?

If I’m going to die like this, why did I live so desperately?

I should have at least gone on a trip abroad like my other friends or drank until I was completely drunk.

What kind of wealth and glory was I trying to enjoy that I sat at my desk without a moment’s rest from middle school until now?

I can see the red liquid flowing out of the shattered wine bottle.

Ah, if I had known this would happen, I should have at least taken a sip of that in the lab before coming out.

That was the last complaint in this life, which ended in vain without achieving anything.