Min-jae's transformation was no longer just about his mind, body, or career—it was about obsession. The drive to prove himself, to escape the shadow of his former life, consumed him entirely. His days had become a blur of work, study, and self-discipline. Sleep was a luxury he no longer allowed himself. Resting was a sign of weakness.
The MBA program at Harvard had originally been planned as a two-year journey, but Min-jae's relentless drive shattered that timeline. He buried himself in his studies, working harder than anyone else in the program. He devoured case studies, completed extra assignments, and relentlessly pursued every opportunity to improve. Every waking moment, he felt the pressure of his past self—those mistakes, those failures, the years of squandered potential. They haunted him, pushing him to be better, to be the best.
He graduated from the MBA program in a mere year, an accomplishment that not only shocked his peers but stunned his professors. The man who had once barely passed his bachelor's degree, who had been known for lounging through classes, was now the top of his class, graduating summa cum laude with honors no one had expected. His name was at the top of every academic list, his papers quoted by other students, his presentations the model of strategic thinking and clarity. There was no denying that Min-jae had become a force to be reckoned with.
But his success didn't stop there.
Straight out of Harvard, Min-jae landed a coveted position at Goldman Sachs, one of the most prestigious investment banks in the world. It was the perfect opportunity—an environment where his sharp mind and relentless work ethic would be tested, an arena where he could push himself further, harder, beyond anything he had ever done before.
At Goldman Sachs, he quickly made a name for himself. His colleagues marveled at his speed, his sharp insights, and his ability to process complex information with unparalleled precision. He worked late into the night, taking on difficult projects that no one else dared touch. The amount of money he generated for the firm was staggering, and his superiors took notice. Yet, despite the praise and the massive paycheck that accompanied his success, Min-jae couldn't let go of his need for more.
He was making a fortune at Goldman Sachs—his salary was substantial, enough to live a comfortable life. But comfort had no place in Min-jae's world. The minute his paycheck cleared, he would take on more part-time jobs. He found satisfaction in being busy, in always having something to do, something to prove. Whether it was helping a local startup with their financial planning, doing freelance consulting, or working odd jobs to keep himself occupied, he kept his life packed to the brim with activity. It was as if the work itself was his punishment, a way to atone for the years he had wasted.
His nights were spent at the gym, pushing himself past his limits. The late-night workouts were a form of catharsis—a way to expel the frustration and rage that bubbled inside him. He no longer cared about building muscle for the sake of vanity. This was about control, about discipline. He ran, lifted, and sweat until he could feel nothing but the grind of his own body—a physical manifestation of his mental obsession.
Sleep became a distant memory. Min-jae had long since stopped caring about the consequences of his lifestyle. Four hours of sleep was all he allowed himself. And even those hours were fitful—his mind constantly running, thinking about the next project, the next task, the next challenge he would conquer. He relished the feeling of exhaustion, the constant hum of his overworked body. It was his penance. It was his path to redemption.
At the same time, he cut himself off from everyone—his family, his friends, his past. He no longer spoke to his father, who had pushed him into the family business. He didn't speak to his mother, whose nurturing presence had always been a source of comfort. He didn't even speak to Soo-bin, his sharp-tongued sister, who had once teased him but had also watched, in her own way, as he began to change. He erased them from his life completely, unable to reconcile the man he was becoming with the family that had raised him.
The only connection to his past that remained was the taunting image of his ex-fiancée, Seo-jin. Her rejection still stung like a fresh wound. But now, instead of yearning for her, he used that pain as fuel. Every time he thought of her, of her cruel words, it pushed him to work harder, to be better. But that was the only emotional tie left—a distant, burning resentment that kept him moving forward.
In his search for a fresh start, Min-jae also obtained his Green Card, securing his place in the United States permanently. He knew that if he stayed here long enough, he could sever any remaining connections to his past. The name Kang Min-jae would become nothing more than a faint memory, something that had no bearing on who he had become. In this new life, he was someone else—someone who had built himself from the ground up, someone who had earned his place through blood, sweat, and an almost pathological level of self-discipline.
Every day was the same for Min-jae. Wake up before dawn. Work. Study. Train. Work some more. Sleep for four hours, repeat. He was relentless. He was driven. But there was no satisfaction, no relief. There was only the next challenge, the next hurdle. His life had become an endless cycle of pushing himself harder, faster, beyond what anyone thought possible.
And in the stillness of his apartment, when the lights were dimmed and the weight of his choices settled over him, Min-jae wondered: Was he truly becoming the man he had always wanted to be? Or was he simply running from the truth of who he once was—forever trapped in a cycle of self-punishment, unable to stop until there was nothing left of the person he used to be?