Yu jin's POV
I finally arrived at the building and saw Ji-hoon moving near the elevators, folder in hand. He glanced at me and smiled briefly. I nodded, and he nodded back. That was it. I stepped toward him, trying to ignore the tightness in my stomach.
"You ready?" he asked quietly.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I said.
His name was called first. He straightened his back, walked into the room, and disappeared behind the door. I waited, watching the clock tick slower than it should. I kept my folder pressed against my chest for no reason other than habit, and my hands fidgeted once before I caught myself.
When my name was called, I stood, adjusted my jacket, and walked in. Three people sat behind the long table, looking at me with a precise attention. I placed my folder on the table and folded my hands over it, trying to anchor myself.
"Mr. Seo, your background shows a degree in biology related fields, and three years of private tutoring before writing the graduation examination for college, Is that correct?" the woman asked, eyes sharp.
"Yes, ma'am. That's correct. While getting tutored I did voluntary work which focused on tutoring students in scientific methods, lab techniques, and research skills, and I've kept up with current protocols and developments during that time."
The older man leaned back, pen tapping against his notebook. "No professional lab experience after those three years?"
"No professional lab experience, sir. My work has been focused on mentoring, overseeing practical experiments, ensuring proper documentation, and maintaining strict accuracy. I've kept current with the research papers and methods used in the field."
The younger man looked down at my file, then back up. "Most interns here have seven or more years of school and professional experience. You understand this makes you an unconventional candidate?"
"Yes, I understand. I know my path is different. But my experience demonstrates competence, attention to detail, and knowledge of methodology. The skills are transferable even if the environment was different."
They exchanged glances, clearly judging me already. I expected it. I had been preparing for it.
The older man spoke next. "Tell us what you would do if a supervisor asked you to adjust data in a clinical trial to match expected results."
"I would report the inconsistencies immediately," I said, keeping my tone calm. "Altering data compromises patient safety and the integrity of the study. Ethical responsibility comes first."
The woman leaned slightly forward. "Even if refusing could put your position at risk?"
"Yes, ma'am. Maintaining integrity outweighs personal risk. Decisions here have consequences beyond the immediate team."
The younger interviewer asked, "Imagine you are leading a project and discover an error that delays a medication release by three months. How would you respond?"
"I would report it immediately, outline the correction plan, adjust schedules, and communicate with the team and leadership. Delays are frustrating but releasing a flawed product is unacceptable. Accuracy and safety are always the priority."
They looked at each other and nodded before the older man asked, "Have you led a research team before?"
"Not in a professional lab. I have managed projects with multiple students, organized experiments, reviewed results, ensured proper documentation, and enforced standards. Leadership is method, accountability, and communication. Those principles remain the same whether in a lab or in tutoring projects."
The woman spoke next. "How does your experience translate to leading a corporate research team?"
"Managing multiple students with different skill levels requires planning, supervision, follow-up, and enforcing accuracy. Every step must be documented, and results verified. Those skills translate directly to supervising small teams in a lab or research environment."
"Define ethical practice in pharmaceutical research," the older man said.
"Protecting human subjects, ensuring data accuracy, maintaining transparency, and refusing to compromise integrity for convenience. Ethics means putting patients and research integrity above all else."
They asked me for a complex problem example. I told them about a student who struggled to understand advanced lab concepts. I explained how I created structured exercises to guide him step by step, maintained accurate records, and ensured consistent results. I emphasized attention to detail, process, and the responsibility of guiding others correctly.
Next came forward-looking questions. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"
"In a position conducting meaningful research, contributing to projects that improve patient outcomes, and maintaining integrity. Rank or title is secondary to impact."
"Why our company?"
"Your division reaches communities often overlooked. The work aligns with my priorities and my experience. I want to contribute to meaningful, applied research."
I left the room and stepped into the corridor. My chest felt heavy but not hopeless. I had said what I needed to say, and now it was outside my control.
Ji-hoon was waiting. He looked at me quietly, evaluating, steady. "It's okay," he said. "Don't let it scare you." while rubbing my shoulder, he said.
I nodded, swallowing the frustration in my chest.
We walked to the board with the results. Ten candidates. Four passed. Ji-hoon's name was there. Mine wasn't.
I felt the air leave my chest. Hollow, sharp. The room seemed to tilt slightly, like the walls knew what the numbers had done.
Ji-hoon stepped close, putting a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. You did everything you could," he said quietly, calmly.
I turned, focusing on the interviewers who were already talking among themselves. "Can I ask why three years of rigorous studies, tutoring and project supervision doesn't qualify? How is competence measured only by years in a lab and school, not by skill, responsibility, and knowledge?"
The older man hesitated. Before he could finish, the door o
pened.
The boss walked in, calm, and sharply. My heart skipped a beat.