The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 82

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Regression of a Fallen Chaebol Heir — Episode 82
Five days before Christmas, the UC Berkeley campus lay eerily quiet.
Undergraduates had long since packed and left, and most of the graduate students had done the same.
The lights were off in the third-floor hallway, save for a single lab that still glowed.
It was Lucas Jansen’s lab.
“Was this mine?”
A colleague held up a Mug Cup as he packed books into a cardboard box—an old one bearing an MIT logo.
“It’s mine.”
“Oh, sorry.”
The colleague set the mug down on Lucas’s desk.
In a lab with three desks, once the colleague’s desk was empty, only Lucas remained.
The third desk belonged to another colleague who’d gone to Google three months ago, and dust had already accumulated on that workstation.
“I hear the lab is much bigger in Michigan?”
“Three times this size, easily.”
The colleague laughed, tearing off a strip of packing tape.
A Faculty Appointment at the University of Michigan.
He’d started at Berkeley the same year as Lucas—they were both Postdocs.
Both had been gunning for professorships, but his colleague had secured one first.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
The colleague finished sealing the tape and turned his head.
“How about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You applied for a position at Carnegie Mellon, right?”
Lucas kept his eyes on the monitor.
“Didn’t get it.”
“…Third time?”
“Yeah.”
The colleague’s hand paused. His face showed he didn’t know what to say.
“Your research isn’t flawed. It’s just timing—”
“I know.”
Lucas cut him off tersely. He didn’t want sympathy.
The Faculty Appointment committees had given the same feedback all three times.
They acknowledged the originality of his work, but questioned whether practical applications were viable at this point.
Controlling robots through Reinforcement Learning. Everything he was researching was being treated as science fiction.
The first rejection had stung. The second had felt unjust. By the third, he felt nothing at all.
“What about your funding?”
The colleague asked carefully.
“Got cut. Starting next year, my research time’s being halved too.”
…
Lucas spoke matter-of-factly.
“I won’t even have time to run Simulations properly.”
The colleague sighed.
Being a Postdoc himself, he understood what that meant. And he knew Lucas needed research funding most of all.
“Hardware?”
“Forget it. Do you know how much a single robot costs?”
Lucas’s lips twisted for the first time.
“The review committee asked whether I’d tested it on actual hardware. But to test, I need a robot. To get a robot, I need funding. And to get funding, I need validation data. Catch-22.”
It was a nightmare. Everything could be solved with money, but acquiring that money required tangible data—data that itself cost money to generate.
There was no way out.
The colleague was quiet for a moment, then spoke.
“What if you shifted your focus? Computer Vision is well-funded right now—”
“I don’t want to.”
Short and final. The colleague didn’t push further. He’d known that answer was coming.
The colleague picked up the box and stood, taking one last look around the lab.
He looked at the desk where he’d sat for three years, and at Lucas still sitting there.
“Take care, Lucas.”
“Good luck. You’re going to do great, Marco.”
Marco paused at the door.
“Oh, by the way—the Professor wanted me to tell you. Some investment company from South Korea contacted him about a meeting. They’re coming by this afternoon.”
“…An investment company?”
“I don’t know the details. He said to see them anyway, that it might be an opportunity for you.”
With that, Marco left, and Lucas was alone in the lab again.
…
Two empty desks, a dust-covered monitor from the departed colleague, orphaned chairs—they all remained in the lab. Equations from two months ago were still on the Whiteboard, erased by no one. Without anyone to discuss them with, there was no reason to erase them, no reason to change them.
“No time to get sentimental.”
Lucas turned his gaze back to his own monitor.
A Simulation was running.
On the screen, a Quadrupedal Robot was learning to walk.
It stumbled on four legs trying to stand, then fell again after taking a single step. This was the hundredth time, maybe more.
But it was improving, bit by bit. Its gait was stabilizing, and when it encountered obstacles, it processed visual information from its camera and found detour paths on its own.
“It works so well—why isn’t it…”
Falling and rising, walking and deciding, learning accumulated with each cycle.
Lucas knew this could work. On the screen, it did.
This algorithm was universally applicable, whether for a Quadrupedal Robot or a Robot Arm, regardless of form.
See, judge, act.
What Lucas was building wasn’t a control program for a specific robot—it was a universal mind that could be implanted into any machine.
…
The problem was that all of this existed only within this screen.
He hadn’t finished his undergrad and come here to research robots that moved only on monitors.
Knock, knock.
As he sat lost in thought, there came a knock at the door.

* * *
“Go in alone.”
When I arrived at the lab, Danny said this to me.
“You’re not coming in?”
“Nah. I wouldn’t have much to say anyway, and you’d probably connect better with the engineers than I would.”
I nodded at Danny’s assessment.
Too many people in a technical discussion only raises everyone’s guard. A cautious investor wouldn’t like that either.
“Understood. I’ll be back soon.”
“Right, I’ll be in the car. Come find me when you’re done.”
Danny headed to the car, and after a moment of deep breathing, I knocked.
—Come in.
A voice came from inside, and I opened the door.
Lucas Jansen was standing up from his chair.
Blond hair, a sharp jawline, glasses, gray hoodie—the appearance of someone who’d be spending Christmas in the lab.
And the moment he saw me, confusion flickered across his eyes.
“Um…”
Of course. He’d expected someone in a suit, probably middle-aged, from an investment company.
Instead, in walked someone who looked far younger—an East Asian.
“I’m Kang Seon-woo. I’m from Ribbon Capital.”
I extended my hand and shook his. His grip was limp, completely without force.
Had he already given up on this meeting?
“Lucas Jansen. Have a seat.”
I looked around the lab.
In my previous life, I first heard Lucas’s name in the 2020s.
When the age of humanoid robots began, there was one name everyone cited in their papers.
The founder of Reinforcement Learning–based General-purpose robot control. The man who ushered in the era when AI became a robot’s eyes, hands, and feet.
That man was now sitting alone in this empty lab.
“You came from South Korea, I hear. What brings you here?”
His tone was polite but dismissive. He looked eager to get back to his research.
“I’ve read your papers, Dr. Jansen. The one you submitted to ICRA in 2006, and the NIPS paper from 2007.”
Lucas’s eyes moved slightly.
He seemed surprised that an investor—and such a young one—had actually read his work.
“Giving robots eyes, letting them judge and move on their own. Interesting research, they say, but the academic world keeps saying practical applications are still far off.”
I saw Lucas’s shoulders tense slightly. I’d touched a nerve.
“…That’s correct. And?”
“I see it differently.”
“Differently?”
Lucas’s expression didn’t change.
This wasn’t the first time he’d heard such a statement.
How many times had he sat through meetings where someone left with nothing but hollow praise—”Fascinating research”—before disappearing? My face must look like all of them to him.
“Is that running on the monitor your algorithm?”
Lucas glanced at the monitor briefly. A Quadrupedal Robot learning to walk.
“…Yes. Though it’s just a Simulation.”
“You’ve never tested it on actual hardware, have you?”
Lucas’s expression hardened. This time, the reaction was unmistakable.
“…No.”
Silence fell.
Lucas was looking at me again, but his gaze had changed from before.
Now he was studying me like a threat—someone who understood his circumstances too well.
I pulled my iPhone from my pocket.
The video Lee had sent me was saved on it.
“This is a Robot Arm from a South Korean company I’ve invested in.”
I played the video. The screen was small, but it showed what mattered.
A Robot Arm from Synapse Robotics was attempting to pick up an object on a table. Its movements were jerky and rigid. It grasped, failed, adjusted the angle, tried again—and dropped it again.
Lucas’s eyes locked on the screen.
“…The control is classical. PID-based?”
For the first time, real interest colored his voice.
“I’m not an engineer, but I think that’s what they told me.”
“How many degrees of freedom in the joints?”
“Six axes, I believe.”
Lucas took the iPhone and replayed the video from the beginning, staring intently at the Robot Arm’s movements.
Was he imagining his own algorithm running on it? Picturing the arm moving fluidly with his code?
“As you can see, the body exists but the mind doesn’t.”
Lucas tore his eyes from the screen and looked at me.
For the first time, our eyes met clearly.
“I’m asking you to lead all AI research at Synapse Robotics.”
Lucas’s expression froze.
“…You’re asking me to move to South Korea?”
“We’re building a research facility. You’ll design everything—equipment, personnel, budget, all of it.”
Lucas didn’t respond. I continued.
“How many papers you publish, how many conferences you attend—that’s entirely up to you. We won’t interfere.”
…
“Don’t you want to see it? Your algorithm actually running on a Robot Arm?”
After a long silence of deliberation, Lucas spoke.
“To be honest, I’m not sure my algorithm will even work on real hardware.”
…
“It works in Simulation. But reality is different. Friction, Sensor Noise, Joint Backlash. It’s common for models that work perfectly in Simulation to fall apart once they’re on an actual robot.”
Lucas looked directly at me.
“What will you do if you invest and it fails?”
Interesting. Even now, he was being honest rather than offering false confidence.
That’s what made me like him even more.
“That’s exactly why I’m offering this—a real chance to test it on actual robots.”
Lucas’s eyes wavered slightly.
“You’ve already confirmed it works in Simulation. The next step is testing it on real hardware. Then you’ll know if it works or not.”
Lucas closed his lips. The objection had lost its force, but he still didn’t give a definite answer.
“…You’re saying I need to go to South Korea.”
Lucas slowly opened his lips.
“I’ve never conducted research outside the United States. All my infrastructure, all my research networks—they’re here in America. Is rigorous research even possible in South Korea?”
“South Korea has flights to America. You can travel freely. We have no intention of restricting your trips—in fact, the company will support you with full funding.”
I paused for a moment, gathering my words.
“I believe research is done by people, not infrastructure. I’ll build the infrastructure; you do the research without worrying about money.”
Lucas tilted his head slightly. There was more.
“You said I’d choose my own team members. Are there researchers in South Korea who can do both Reinforcement Learning and robotics simultaneously? I can’t do this alone.”
“If there aren’t any in South Korea, we’ll bring people in.”
…
“What I mean is, you have hiring authority. Bring in whoever you want from the United States, from Europe—whoever you think is right for the job.”
Lucas closed his mouth.
“Let me spell out the concrete conditions.”
…
“We’ll pay you three times your current salary. Housing will be provided by the company. And there’s no cap on research funding. No limits on recruiting other researchers, no restrictions on equipment purchases. We’ll provide everything you need.”
Lucas visibly flinched at the conditions.
“…Why would you grant me that kind of authority? What do you base it on?”
“Call it an investor’s intuition. And honestly, when you want to move someone who doesn’t want to move, you need terms like these.”
“Then what exactly do you want from me in return?”
“A working Prototype Robot Arm within five years. One that genuinely sees, learns, and thinks as it moves.”
…
“I’m not expecting perfection from the start. Just a Prototype.”
I knew how time-intensive and costly such research would be.
I was also confident that even if the Prototype failed after five years, Lucas would become the same person he was in my previous life.
But I wanted to give him a goal—to accelerate that timeline.
Lucas looked at the video on the iPhone again.
He watched the scene where the Robot Arm fumbled and dropped the object, staring at it for a long moment. Then, as if he’d made a decision, he nodded.
“If you provide the support properly, I’ll try to make it happen within five years.”
With his commitment made, Lucas had accepted. I smiled broadly and extended my hand.
“An excellent choice, Lucas.”
The hand I shook was gripped firmly, with real strength this time.
“When do I start?”
“We’re currently selecting a location for the research facility in South Korea. We’ll have you join us within six months. Until then, we’ll cover your research expenses.”
“Thank you.”
It was done. With Lucas Jansen joining, Synapse could grow even further. I maintained my smile and nodded to Lucas.

* * *
When I exited the building and stepped outside the lab, the sun was setting.
Danny was waiting in front of the car in the parking lot.
“Done?”
“Yeah.”
“…Really?”
“Lucas Jansen agreed to join us.”
Danny grinned widely and nodded.
“Great. Let’s head to the hotel then.”
“Before that, let’s grab something good to eat. I’m starving.”
“Sounds good. You’re buying tonight, right? We’re celebrating.”
Danny laughed and got into the car. I nodded and followed suit.
Bzzt.
As soon as the car started moving, my phone buzzed. I checked the name on the screen and pressed the call button.
“This is Kang Seon-woo.”
—I’ll take the deal.
The voice on the other end was Ryan Holt, but he spoke only those words, without even a greeting.
I’d expected this call, but the timing was faster than I’d anticipated.
“You’ve made a good choice. Shall we meet tomorrow—”
—What about right now instead of tomorrow?
I smiled. His personality matched what I’d heard.
The kind of man who acts immediately once he decides.
“That works. I’m on my way.”
—I’ll be waiting.
I hung up and looked at Danny.
“Danny, looks like dinner will have to wait. Can we head to Palo Alto?”
“Palo Alto?”
“Ryan Holt wants to close the deal.”
Danny stopped the car and looked at me blankly.
“He wants to close it?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow!”
When I’d met with Ryan Holt earlier, Danny’s expression had been lukewarm. Now, hearing the news, even Danny’s mood shifted and he let out a loud exclamation.
“You looked unhappy about it.”
“Unhappy, sure, but if you’ve made up your mind, then it’s good that it’s working out.”
Danny redirected the car toward Palo Alto, and I clenched my fist tightly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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