Two Verdicts [One Year Later / International Society for Neural Regenerative Medicine]

Taekyung’s name began appearing in papers again.

At first, only in footnotes discussing historical precedence.

Then in paragraphs describing the early principles of developmental acceleration.

Several textbooks revised the history of neural organoid transplantation.

But beside his name,

the same phrases always appeared.

‘Unauthorized human application.’

‘Serious research ethics violation.’

Scientific priority and ethical violation were recorded side by side.

Some still said,

a successful result could not justify the method.

Others said,

the discovery itself could not be erased.

Hajun rejected neither side.

During an interview, a reporter asked,

(Reporter) : “Do you believe your father’s actions were justified?”

Hajun thought for a moment.

(Hajun) : “No.”

The reporter looked up, surprised.

(Hajun) : “At least by the standards of a scientist, there were lines he clearly crossed.”

(Reporter) : “Then why did you push for his work to be reevaluated?”

Hajun answered,

(Hajun) : “Because an ethical wrong and a scientific fact don’t erase each other.”

The interview spread around the world.

[Evening / Park]

Taekyung and Hajun walked slowly.

Taekyung used a cane.

(Taekyung) : “You’re not getting attacked because of me, are you?”

(Hajun) : “I don’t read comments.”

Taekyung chuckled.

(Taekyung) : “That part you got from me.”

Hajun laughed too.

After a while, he asked,

(Hajun) : “Did you regret it?”

Taekyung slowed his steps.

After a long silence,

(Taekyung) : “As a scientist.”

Hajun waited.

(Taekyung) : “As a father... I don’t know.”

Taekyung looked at the son walking beside him.

A son nearly fifty.

Taller than he was.

A doctor who treated patients.

A researcher who wrote papers.

A man living his own life.

Taekyung said,

(Taekyung) : “I never thought I’d get to see you grow this old.”

Hajun smiled, then turned his face away.

It was the longest confession his father had ever given him.