Part 13: The Final Battle, and the 'Proof' That the Strategy Got Through —A Half-Year of Giving It Everything—

Together with a professional friend, I fundamentally restructured the content of my final presentation. To clearly differentiate myself from the leading candidate, I took the risk of delving into the 'issues of the current system,' creating a challenging scenario unlike anything I had done before.

I rehearsed and spoke the words aloud countless times to ensure it fit perfectly within the allotted 25-minute timeframe. And then, the day of the presentation finally arrived.

One hour in the waiting room and a final desperate struggle

When I headed to the venue at the designated time, I was shown to a quiet waiting room. I spent one hour waiting all alone in a state of extreme tension, not knowing when I would be called.

Normally, one might spend that time just praying, but even during that hour, I was concerned about the finer points of the presentation, so I opened my laptop and continued to revise the slides. Although I felt the impatience of 'what if I'm called now?' and extreme nervousness, I steeled myself, thinking, 'I will struggle until the very last second. This is the final battle.'

And then, finally, my name was called.

I was guided to a special, imposing conference room I had only entered a few times before. When I opened the door, all the university professors were lined up, waiting for me.

A 'masterpiece' amidst a strange sense of tension

'Now, please tell us your aspirations, Professor.'

With those words, my final 25 minutes began. I have experienced countless presentations at academic conferences and the like, but presenting before the professors who are at the top of every field—completely different from my own area of expertise—was a skin-prickling tension of a completely different quality than an academic conference.

However, on the other hand, when I looked around, I saw many familiar faces among the professors. From their gazes, I felt not only that they were trying to evaluate me, but also a somewhat warm atmosphere.

In a unique atmosphere I had never felt before, I began to speak about the 'aspirations' I had spent half a year building.Including the last-minute revisions in the waiting room, that presentation, which carried all my thoughts and feelings, was undoubtedly the best performance of my life.

When I finished speaking for 25 minutes, in the silent conference room, several professors applauded. Perhaps it was just a gesture of appreciation, saying 'thank you for your hard work.' However, to me, it felt as if the 'values' and 'thoughts' I had staked my life on conveying had truly reached their hearts.

The moment I heard that applause, I felt from the bottom of my heart, 'Ah, I am truly glad I did all of this.'

The notification a few weeks later and words from my mentor

The result was decided by a vote at a faculty meeting held at a later date.

After the faculty meeting ended, my mentor, the current professor, contacted me directly. What was conveyed wasthe fact that I had not been chosen. But at the same time, it was the fact thatI had been able to gather a certain, not insignificant, number of supporting votes.

The professor said this to me:

'If this had been a battle based solely on the traditional comparison of research achievements, your support might have been much lower. However, you gathered this much support. This result is proof that the vision you painted and your journey thus far have been highly evaluated by the university. I am truly proud of you for fighting through to the end as a final candidate.'

The complex emotions that swirl after my mind goes blank

After I hung up the phone, my mind went completely blank.

Starting from nothing, I had spent over half a year pouring every ounce of my time and effort into fighting this battle with everything I had. I had thought through the strategy for winning to the absolute limit, and the direction I chose was definitely correct. I was able to bring the presentation to the highest level of perfection. And I also had the distinct feeling that it had successfully reached the audience.

—But I didn't win.

From that moment, a whole range of emotions began to swirl violently through my mind.

A deep sense of satisfaction from having done everything I could. A sense of relief that it was finally over, having been released from such immense pressure. A trembling frustration that even after doing all that, it still wasn't enough. An irresistible emptiness that whispered, 'Wasn't it obvious from the start that you couldn't beat the favorite?' And a forced cheerfulness as I tried to convince myself, 'Well, I'll just keep walking the path I believe in starting tomorrow'...

Various emotions surged and receded like waves, to the point where I couldn't tell which one was my true feeling.