My Real-Life ‘Isekai’: Why I Quit My HR Career to Become a Developer
Potius sero quam nunquam — Titus Livius
My Real-Life ‘Isekai’: Why I Quit My HR Career to Become a Developer
Potius sero quam nunquam — Titus Livius
To explain why I suddenly fell into the world of AI and development, we have to travel back in time. Not to 2025, but to January 2023.
Back then, “Chat GPT” was barely a whisper in Korea. But my cousin, who was doing his master’s in the US, had just come back to visit. We met for lunch, and he was absolutely buzzing. He told me, “We’ve found the new fire. This is going to flip the world upside down, just like when computers were first invented.”
Instead of asking how I’ve been, he immediately opened his laptop. He showed me a lot of features, but one thing made my jaw drop: it wrote a resume and cover letter in just 5 seconds.
At the time, I was working as an HR specialist at Josun Palace (a luxury hotel in Seoul). Seeing a machine do my job in seconds was… shocking, to say the least.
My cousin also gave me a hot tip: “Buy Microsoft stock.” At that time, it was around $228. I was so mesmerized by the tech that I bought several shares immediately. I even begged my girlfriend at the time — and her father — to buy some too.
Now, I’m no stock expert. Giving investment advice is usually a terrible idea. But after seeing Chat - GPT, I thought, “There is no way this won’t go up. It’s impossible.”
I went to work the next day and gathered my HR team to show them this “magic.” Everyone was surprised, sure. But maybe because it felt too futuristic, the shock wore off quickly. They went back to their coffees, and life went on.
Fast forward two weeks: every news outlet in Korea was plastered with stories about Chat - GPT. Three months later? Microsoft stock hit $374.
It’s rare for a giant company’s stock to jump that high, that fast. I sold everything and made a pretty decent profit. Thanks to this, my first impression of AI was, well… very profitable.
However, despite the money, I felt a strange sense of distance. I was in my early 30s, and the idea of working in AI or starting a fresh career felt terrifying. I was climbing the corporate ladder on the fast track, recognized for my hard work. But deep down, I kept imagining a version of myself who could wield AI like a tool, not just watch it from the sidelines.
<The “Midas” Touch That Got Away>
That feeling of needing AI became real during a specific project at work. I stumbled upon an HR solution company called ‘Midas In’ (Midas Group). They were doing something fascinating: applying AI to HR.
At the time, Josun Palace was struggling to recruit top-tier talent. We reached out to Midas for help with employer branding. They proposed a solution that would promote our job postings on social media platforms using AI.
The amazing part was that it wasn’t just random advertising. Their AI could precisely target users based on their search history and behavior. It ensured our ads popped up only for people who were genuinely interested in hotels or actively looking for a job.
But such amazing technology comes with a hefty price tag. I can’t reveal the exact figures due to confidentiality, but let’s just say it was a number that was very hard for the hotel to swallow.
Still, I didn’t give up. I saw the potential. I repeatedly invited their sales team for meetings and pushed hard internally to convince the decision-makers. After a lot of effort, I finally managed to secure approval for a 3-month pilot run. I was thrilled.
However, things took an unexpected turn. For some undisclosed reason, Midas In — not us — decided to cancel the implementation. We never got to use it. Although not confirmed, the contact person hinted that they pulled the plug because they didn’t expect the project to generate enough revenue for them.
I was devastated. We were so close to solving our hiring problem with AI. That frustration planted a seed in my mind. I remember thinking clearly: “If I can’t buy this service… I wish I had the skills to build it myself.”
<Entering the “Isekai”>
Then, about a year later, I had broken up with my girlfriend and went on a blind date set up by a colleague.
After a few drinks, we got comfortable — maybe too comfortable — and started sharing our nerdy hobbies. She introduced herself as an “Otaku” and strongly recommended I watch anime. I’ve never watched one before. She suggested masterpieces like Fullmetal Alchemist and some niche titles I can’t quite remember.
Long story short: the relationship didn’t work out. But her recommendations did. I fell down the rabbit hole of anime, specifically the “Isekai” (Reincarnation) genre.
For the “Muggles” reading this, let me explain Isekai. It’s a genre where a character lives a miserable or normal life, dies in an accident, and gets reborn in a fantasy world. The twist? The protagonist usually gets “Cheat Skills” — powerful abilities like magic or immortality that no one else in that world has. They become a “Munchkin” (an overpowered hero).
Watching these shows, a lightbulb went off in my head. “What is the ‘powerful magic’ in the real world I live in?”
I realized that “magic” is the ability to handle AI and code.
I worked as an HR Specialist for 4 years, managing about 400 employees. I spent a lot of time thinking about people’s value. And I realized one thing: Having “my own unique skill” is the only way to protect myself and the people I cherish.
As fate would have it, I had to take a break from work due to family matters. I decided this was my sign. I quit my job completely.
I know I’m not young. I know it’s risky. But I found a 6-month AI developer course offered by Intel, and I decided to dive in. I gave up my guaranteed promotion and my stable life to restart from level one.
As the ancient Roman historian Livy said:
“Potius sero quam nunquam.” (Better late than never.)
With these words in my heart, I am ready to start my own “Isekai” adventure.
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By Evan Yoon on November 28, 2025.
Exported from Medium on March 25, 2026.