Episode 3: The Second Day #1
A July 18 morning in 1976 Palo Alto dawned. The intense sunlight, forcing its way through the cracks of the old wood grain, tickled Ra-on's eyelids. If it were 2026, a simple "Genie, open the curtains" would have triggered the smart blinds. Here, however, he had to physically haul himself up and escape the groaning springs of his bed.
Ra-on grabbed his toiletries and headed to the bathroom. The first thing to baffle him was the shower. It wasn't the sleek, modern faucet he was used to, but a clunky contraption with separate dials for hot and cold water. "Right... this is how they did it back then. GAH! HOT!"
He spent several minutes wrestling with the dials to find a tolerable temperature. The fixed showerhead pelted him with a somewhat coarse stream, and the scent of tap water—a mix of old grout and that distinct medicinal smell of chlorine—hit his nose. It felt a bit rough on skin accustomed to the micro-filtered showers of 2026, but the cool water eventually snapped him awake. "Well, at least the water is refreshing. So, this is what a 70s morning feels like."
After his shower, Ra-on stood before the mirror to pick his outfit. He chose the most inconspicuous items from his stash.
Bottoms: Straight-fit denim pants with a slight flare.
Top: A plain, pale yellow t-shirt with a vintage vibe.
Shoes: Rugged leather sneakers.
"Perfect. I look exactly like a 70s college student." But beneath the surface, hidden in his inner pocket and on his wrist, lay 'Over-Technology.'
Galaxy S26 Ultra & Buds 4 Pro: Slipped into his right pocket. The heavy, solid feel of titanium was oddly reassuring.
Galaxy Watch 8: Ra-on entered the settings, turned on 'AOD (Always On Display),' and switched to an analog watch face that matched his classic leather strap. "To anyone else, it just looks like a sophisticated watch with a ticking hand. I'll even turn on the ticking sound effect via the app. Who'd ever guess this is a smartwatch? Ha!"
Instead of his 2026 tactical backpack, he grabbed a worn canvas messenger bag suitable for the era. Inside was the manila envelope containing his Stanford admission documents—perfectly forged by AI and deepfake technology. Classes wouldn't officially start until late August, but today was the day for freshman registration and document submission.
"Passport, check. Admission letter, check... Okay." Before stepping out, he tapped the watch on his wrist to stealthily check his current location and the route to campus. The 2026 GPS data overlaid seamlessly onto the map from fifty years ago.
"Stanford, here I come. Time to take a step into history!" With an excited grin, Ra-on stepped out into the scorching July air.
Passing through Palm Drive, the iconic entrance to Stanford, Ra-on found himself gaping. The red-tiled roofs and majestic sandstone buildings glowed golden under the intense July sun. But his awe was short-lived. As he arrived at the administration building (Old Union), an unbelievable sight unfolded before him.
"Good grief... is that all one line?" A line of freshmen waiting to submit their papers snaked out of the building and wound around like a roller coaster queue at a theme park. In 2026, this would have been handled via a smartphone app or finished online in minutes. In 1976, administration was a beast made of 'paper' and 'waiting.'
Ra-on took his place at the very end. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and the line barely moved. A quick glance at his Watch 8 (disguised as a standard analog face) told him thirty minutes had already vanished. Around him, students were introducing themselves, reading thick newspapers, or simply staring blankly at the sky. To a man from 2026, this 'Digital Void' was pure torture. The weight of the S26 Ultra in his pocket felt like a temptation.
I just want to watch ten minutes of YouTube Shorts. Or maybe check the news from 2026? But he immediately shook his head. No. The moment I pull out this bezel-less, ultra-high-def screen, I'm getting hauled off by the FBI or treated like an alien. I have to endure. I'm just a normal American college student in 1976.
To kill time, he observed the 70s fashion: bell-bottoms, loud patterned shirts, and shaggy hair. Finally, after an hour and twenty minutes of agonizing patience, it was his turn.
Inside the booth, a middle-aged woman with glasses perched on the tip of her nose greeted him in an office filled with the clatter of typewriters. Ra-on took a deep breath and pulled the carefully prepared envelope from his bag.
"I'm here for freshman registration. Ra-on Han." He spread the documents across the table one by one.
U.S. Passport: A perfect replica printed with 2026 AI tech, even recreating the slight ink bleeds characteristic of the 70s.
Stanford Admission Letter: An official seal and signature that defied any suspicion of forgery.
Transcripts: Meticulously faked records from a fictional private school in the States.
SAT Scores: A high-score report created after a thorough analysis of the era's formats and distributions.
The clerk adjusted her glasses and scrutinized the papers. With every page she turned, a fine sweat broke out on Ra-on's palms. It was a high-stakes showdown between future technology and past verification systems.
"Your grades are excellent, Mr. Han. And you've applied for... Economics?" "Yes, that's correct."
She nonchalantly stamped the papers. "Good. Everything seems to be in order. Wait on the bench over there; I'll print out your final enrollment confirmation." Another thirty minutes passed. The system of 1976 was slow, but it was certain. Finally, she called his name, and Ra-on held in his hands a crisp 'Stanford University Enrollment Confirmation,' still smelling of fresh ink.
[Department of Economics - La-on Han] Leaving the building, Ra-on held the paper high toward the blue sky. "I did it! I'm officially a Stanford Economics major."
The irony of an economics student with 2026 knowledge going to learn 1976 economics wasn't lost on him, but he felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Now, until classes began in late August, he was ready to breathe the air of 70s America and truly begin his life as a 'student from the future.'
To escape the campus heat, Ra-on headed for Green Library, the heart of Stanford's intellectual life. Entering the grand stone building, he was greeted not by the cool breeze of modern AC, but by the heavy, chilled air created by high ceilings and thick walls.
He was stunned as he looked around. Despite it being the middle of summer break, the reading room was packed. Instead of laptops, every desk featured towers of thick, hardcover books. Students scribbled feverishly on yellow Legal Pads with pens or pencils. The only sounds were the turning of pages and the dull thud of typewriters.
There were no computer monitors. Instead, an entire wall was filled with the Card Catalog—thousands of tiny wooden drawers. To find a book, you had to manually sift through paper cards.
Ra-on suppressed a laugh, feeling a wave of nostalgia mixed with pity. I used to be like that. Scouting for the best seat in a cafe, looking for an outlet for my 140W charger... worrying about the fan noise of my MSI laptop. He thought to himself: But the very concept of 'searching' is different here. Kids, the data you'll spend days hunting for... I could pull it up in 0.5 seconds with the S26 Ultra in my pocket. You guys are working way too hard. He looked at the studying students with the eyes of a 'senior from the future'—half-sympathetic, half-impressed. At the same time, he realized what an insane blessing it was to have the world's knowledge contained in a single chip in 2026.
Leaving the library's silence, he stepped back out into the noon sun. After the long lines and the library tour, his stomach gave a resounding growl. "Alright, let's see what a 70s college student eats for lunch."
He made his way to the student union (Tresidder Union). From a distance, the savory scent of burger patties and the sweet aroma of Coca-Cola wafted toward him on the breeze.
Ra-on sat down with a heavy tray carrying a greasy Sloppy Joe, a mountain of fries, and a large glass of milk. The cafeteria was alive with the vibrant chatter of students and the clatter of silverware.
Just as he was about to pick up his fork...
"Ding~🎶 Ra-on, it's time for lunch! Your recommended calorie intake for today is..."
The high-definition, Dolby Atmos sound of his 2026 AI assistant erupted from his pocket, echoing through the entire cafeteria. He had forgotten to silence the 'Lunch Notification' he'd set up back home.
The noise around him died down instantly. To the people of 1976, the only familiar sounds were clunky telephone rings or mechanical alarm clocks. This crystal-clear, digital high-frequency sound—sounding as if someone were whispering right next to them—must have sounded like a signal from a UFO.
"What was that sound?" "Did someone bring a synthesizer in here?" The students at the next table widened their eyes and began looking around frantically.
Ra-on's heart plummeted. A cold sweat ran down his spine, but his 'future man' instincts kicked in, and he maintained a poker face.
"Huh? Did you hear something?" Ra-on put on an even more bewildered expression, swiveling his head just like everyone else to find the source of the noise. Meanwhile, his right hand slipped into his pocket, fumbling for the side button of the phone. Thankfully, the notification was silenced with a firm press.
"That's weird... maybe they're doing an experiment over at the Engineering building? That sound was pretty wild."
He casually tossed out the comment and took a massive bite of his Sloppy Joe as if nothing had happened. The surrounding students looked puzzled for a moment, but since the sound had vanished, they soon returned to their conversations about things like the possibility of a Beatles reunion.
On the outside, he was elegantly chewing his burger, but inside, his mind was a scene of total carnage. Man... that was a close one. I almost got outed as a future man and forcibly deported on day two! I thought I checked all my settings, but I can't believe that notification schedule was still live!
He pressed down on the S26 Ultra sleeping in his pocket and pleaded silently.
'Please, don't cause any more trouble, my precious tech. I haven't even started my 70s life yet! I don't want to be kicked back to the present (2026) just yet...'
Ra-on vowed never to make such a mistake again, mentally rehearsing the 'Total Silent Mode' settings. In the peaceful lunch hour of 1976, Ra-on had just survived a moment more heart-pounding than any spy movie.