Several significant things contributed to my unwavering motivation as a researcher in the early years of my career: my inherent curiosity, my view of justice untainted by reality, and the agony of being powerless in the face of the loss of my youth and my motherland.
Because of these conflicting emotions, I've written lots of books about galactic justice, planetary history, and malevolent factions. In my works, I investigated the order of chaos and the future of the universe, and I once thought the past, present, and future of the galaxy were already within my grasp, until... that incident happened and revealed that I was only a researcher after all. When reality hit, I couldn't stop the powerful from destroying people's lives, nor could I save the helpless people who were dying.
As a result, in the final years of my career, I ceased investigating justice. For people without power, justice is an overly lofty concept.
I'll try not to bother anyone with this experiment — I realize it's an unreasonable request, so here's my confession—this experiment is only a minor substitute for my abandonment of justice, just to fulfill a small wish of mine.