Min-jae's life at Harvard was a far cry from what it had been during his undergraduate years. The lavish parties, the late-night gatherings, the endless distractions of wealth and privilege—those were all in the past now. All that mattered was the present. And the present was a battlefield for Min-jae's soul.
Every morning, he woke up before dawn, the biting cold of the Boston winter creeping through the thin walls of his apartment. He could never quite shake the weight of self-hatred that pressed down on him, and it pushed him forward, making him relentless, forcing him to grind through his day with a singular focus. The shame of his past had consumed him, and in its wake, only the desire for perfection remained.
He spent his mornings in the library, devouring books on business, economics, psychology, strategy, and leadership. The vast volumes of knowledge were like a lifeline, something he could hold onto as he dug deeper into the minds of the greats. The Prince, The Art of War, The Intelligent Investor—each page turned into a tool for his own personal revolution. There was no margin for error. There was no space for indulgence. Every thought, every moment of his day was calculated, planned, and executed with surgical precision.
The hours stretched on as he dissected his coursework, his mind working through the material with an intensity he had never known before. Where once he had coasted through life on minimal effort, now he absorbed everything with an insatiable hunger. His professors, who had watched him barely scrape by during his bachelor's years, were left in stunned silence as Min-jae's name began to top every academic list.
Professor Whitman, the distinguished professor of business strategy who had seen Min-jae at his worst during his undergraduate studies, couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the first set of grades.
"Min-jae… top of the class?" he muttered under his breath, rereading the grade sheet in disbelief. He remembered the lazy, entitled student who had barely passed with a weak effort. And yet, here he was, consistently outperforming everyone, pushing boundaries in his assignments, and dominating case studies with an insight that was both rare and piercing.
The transformation was nothing short of extraordinary. Min-jae wasn't just passing his MBA classes—he was redefining what it meant to succeed. He understood the deeper currents beneath every decision, every strategy, every negotiation. His ability to dissect situations, to see patterns that others missed, became his greatest strength. It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, and now he saw the world for what it truly was: a chessboard.
But it wasn't just about academics. Min-jae knew that in order to truly distance himself from his past, he had to erase the indulgent, lazy person he had once been from his very existence. Every piece of him that had been weak, that had been driven by selfish pleasure, had to be destroyed.
So, he did it.
He cut ties with his old self. He stopped eating the rich, comforting foods he once adored. The high-calorie takeout and indulgent late-night feasts became distant memories, replaced by protein-packed meals and disciplined, measured nutrition. He trained his body with the same obsessive precision he applied to his mind. Every day, after classes, he hit the gym with brutal determination. No more excuses. No more skipping workouts. He ran, lifted, and pushed himself to the limits until his muscles burned with the fire of progress.
His appearance changed rapidly. The soft, sluggish body he once carried had become lean, defined, powerful. His clothing, once chosen for comfort, was now chosen for fit and purpose. He no longer slouched or lounged—he stood tall, his posture straight, his presence commanding. His face, once round and soft, was now angular, sharper, reflecting the hard discipline that he had forced upon himself.
But the physical transformation was just the surface. What mattered more was the emotional and mental shift that was taking place beneath it all. The playboy, the spoiled heir, the man who once lived only for himself—he was gone. In his place was a man driven by purpose. A man who refused to be anything less than extraordinary. A man who had chosen to suffer through the harshest of self-imposed changes in order to claw his way out of the pit of self-loathing he had created.
To sustain himself, Min-jae worked part-time jobs. He waited tables, worked as a barista, took on shifts at a local grocery store—whatever it took. The money he earned went straight to living expenses, while every cent of his savings was poured into his tuition fees. He didn't want to use the wealth that had once defined him. He wanted to earn his place, just like everyone else. He couldn't bear the thought of being seen as another entitled heir, another playboy who had everything handed to him. He was done with that life.
Every night, after the long hours of studying, working, and perfecting his mind and body, Min-jae would return to his small apartment, exhausted but at peace. His mind would race as he reflected on the day's progress. Had he done enough? Could he do more? The questions never ceased, and the need to improve, to be better, was a constant companion.
In class, his peers began to take notice of the quiet intensity he exuded. Gone was the lazy, distracted student who barely participated. In his place stood a man whose ideas were sharp, whose arguments were calculated, whose analyses were flawless. He no longer sought approval from anyone. He didn't need it. His results spoke for themselves.
Professor Whitman, though still surprised by Min-jae's transformation, couldn't help but feel a growing admiration. He had once written Min-jae off as a lost cause, a student who would never live up to his potential. But now, as he read Min-jae's papers, listened to his presentations, and saw his unwavering focus, he realized that the young man before him was no longer the same person who had struggled through his bachelor's years.
Min-jae was a force to be reckoned with. And while the world may have once written him off as another spoiled heir, he had become something entirely different: a man who had forged his own path, a man who had rejected the comfort of entitlement, and a man who would stop at nothing to achieve greatness.
The boy who had been a failure was now a rising star. And there was no turning back.