I Got an Omnipotent Brain

The light in Seo-ha’s room didn’t go off until late at night.

Worried, Mi-young lingered outside her son’s door.

Creak.

After a long hesitation, she carefully opened the door to find Seo-ha leaning over his desk, writing something.

He seemed so focused that he didn’t even notice the door opening.

Mi-young wanted to tell her son not to overdo it, but thinking he might be working on something important, she quietly closed the door.

‘Other people worry because their kids don’t study....’

Seo-ha had always been like that since he was young.

Once he got immersed in something, he wouldn’t even hear someone next to him telling him to eat.

Mi-young looked at Seo-ha’s room, let out a quiet sigh, and walked away.

The tidying up she had started in the evening finally ended at dawn.

“Ah! Already?”

Seo-ha was startled after checking the time. But his face was full of smiles.

He turned his head and looked at the portrait of Pascal on top of the bookshelf.

“I told you, didn’t I? That I’d make a discovery greater than yours. Of course, I’m not saying this is it.”

He couldn’t compare something like the Four Color Theorem, which had already been proven, with Pascal’s theorem. But more than anything else, Seo-ha wanted to solve this first.

He felt certain that if he broke through just a few more steps, he’d see the light.

“I wonder how long it’ll take until then....”

It could be tomorrow, or maybe next year....

If unlucky, it might take even longer.

“Uggggg.”

Seo-ha stretched his body and looked at the duck on his pencil.

“Ducky, you’re excited too, right? You might have to pour out all your abilities soon. Until then, don’t get sick and stay quiet.”

Maybe due to stress from environmental changes, the cycle for letting Ducky out was getting shorter. He was taking extra care, thinking that if it wasn’t released in time, panic symptoms might come.

“How long can I keep enduring like this?”

Seo-ha fell deep into thought.

Ducky would calm down if it was allowed to do plenty of calculations in a stable environment.

Feeling uneasy, Seo-ha had recorded himself and watched it, but the way he was crazily absorbed in calculation didn’t feel like himself, so he hesitated to show it to others.

‘I feel like I can find a way for both Ducky and me to be satisfied....’

It felt like something was within reach, but no solution came to mind.

***

“What, are these people blind? Just what do they think Seo-ha is?”

Woo-hyun’s expression twisted as he read an online article.

[Promising Korean Gifted Students, Can They Close the Gap with the World?]

Reading through, the reporter pointed out that in terms of research achievements and number of papers published in international journals, Korea’s basic science was far behind.

Then, it introduced gifted students who had stood out in international competitions and expressed hope for the future. Among them, the content about Seo-ha irritated Woo-hyun.

-Especially Yu Seo-ha, who took first place at the International Mathematical Olympiad as the youngest ever, has received praise among some scholars as “the future of Korean mathematics”.

However, there are also voices of concern.

It has been pointed out that Korea’s gifted education has overly focused on competition performance centered around problem-solving. In fact, many students who won prizes at global competitions during high school failed to make a mark in academia after becoming adults, or chose paths other than becoming researchers.

Experts point out that “there is a fundamental gap between the ability to quickly find correct answers and the ability to propose and develop new theories.”

Click.

Woo-hyun scrolled down the webpage.

He had been barely suppressing the urge to talk about Seo-ha lately.

When Seo-ha took first place at the IMO, Woo-hyun celebrated alone at home with a toast. He had thought Seo-ha would of course do it, but you never know how things will turn out in life.

Among the general public who didn’t know math, there were probably very few who truly understood Seo-ha’s achievement.

Especially that sixth problem.

The night the problem was released, Woo-hyun had pushed aside his lecture preparations and sat down at his desk.

“Shin Woo-hyun, you’re not over yet.”

Woo-hyun, who had developed incomparably since his student days in terms of mathematical ability, began solving the problems without hesitation from the start.

But like hitting a speed bump, his pen stopped at problem 6.

It was an absurd level of difficulty.

He wrestled with the problem all night but in the end, couldn’t find the answer.

It wasn’t until he saw Seo-ha’s solution later that he was able to understand the problem setter’s true intent.

‘I’ve already been overtaken.’

He had known it, but as a mathematician, the realization that his time was already over left a bitter feeling. At the same time, a thrill surged within him, confirming that his judgment had not been wrong.

[...If it were me, I would have given a perfect score.]

Especially when he saw the praise from Elijah Cronen, whom he hated more than anyone, he felt like flying in the sky.

“Right? Even you can’t deny it, can you? Seo-ha’s greater than you.”

Woo-hyun hurled his intense emotions at Cronen smiling on the monitor.

13th floor of the Princeton research building.

When he first opened that door, he truly believed he had finally stepped onto the path of a mathematician. The pride of standing shoulder to shoulder with the most brilliant minds in the world.

He had thought that one day, he too would leave his name on the solution to a great problem.

But that hope collapsed in less than six months.

The cold gaze of the man who had looked at him, Woo-hyun still dreamed about that day.

“You lack mathematical intuition. A person without that can never become a great mathematician.”

The 13th floor was hell.

One by one, his colleagues broke down. And just like some others who quietly packed up and disappeared one day without a word, Woo-hyun also left that place.

“Professor, Seo-ha has broken your record as the youngest Olympiad winner. The Millennium Problem you’re working on now, someday that kid might solve it before you, you know?”

Woo-hyun stared at the monitor and clicked on a forum.

[Isn’t Yu Seo-ha overhyped?]

-He’s just good at solving problems, right? I do acknowledge that it shows how Korean cramming education can work even on the global stage, but let’s not exaggerate. In the end, he’ll probably end up as just another smart guy working at a big corporate lab.

“People who don’t even know a damn thing, running their mouths like that!”

Tap tap tap.

└I screenshotted your comment. The day Seo-ha wins the Fields Medal, I’ll plaster the entire community with this.

└ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ what’s a Fields Medal, your dog’s name? Do whatever you want. If that happens, I’ll bow down on my knees in Gwanghwamun.

└Okay, screenshotting this too. Make sure to keep your promise.

└For the record, I’m a math major. I’m not just talking nonsense.

└Yeah yeah, you’re done for now.

***

“Whew....”

Seo-ha placed the box filled with campus notebooks on the floor with difficulty.

Since finding a clue to the Four Color Theorem over the weekend, he had hardly been able to calm down. In the end, he moved all his records stored at home to the dormitory.

‘Let’s go through everything from the beginning.’

He didn’t want to let anyone know about a research project that had only ever failed. So he had tried to work on it only while at home, but he no longer had the confidence to hold back.

Seo-ha’s mind was completely filled with thoughts of the Four Color Theorem.

As he took the notebooks out of the box and laid them neatly on the floor, the room quickly became cramped.

Seo-ha picked up one of them.

Numerous formulas and drawings, sticky notes attached in the middle, messy corrections marked in pen.

There were times he had felt despair, thinking all of it was meaningless, but now all that effort was becoming the only breakthrough toward solving the problem.

‘I’ll never give up.’

When he looked at the clock, it was already time for his run.

Seo-ha quickly changed into his training clothes and left the dormitory.

‘Should I try that path today?’

The full name of this school was ‘Korea Science and Arts Gifted School’.

That meant half the entire student body were arts-track students.

Since enrolling, Seo-ha had never once gone toward the arts section.

‘The buildings are pretty.’

Reflecting the characteristics of each department, the science section had inorganic concrete buildings, while the arts section had many buildings made of warm-looking wood and glass.

As he left the dorm and followed the trail, the air began to change.

Seo-ha looked around at the scenery of the school he was seeing for the first time with a sense of wonder.

‘Was the school always this pretty?’

Various sculptures were placed all over the lawns.

Abstract curved structures made of metal, a giant face shape carved from wood, and an installation piece with colorful glass panels sparkling in the light.

As he ran a bit farther, he saw students sitting on benches, drawing in sketchbooks. Next to them were brushes, paints, and pencils all mixed together.

Seo-ha suddenly felt like he was somewhere he didn’t belong and decided to hurry past the area.

In front of him, students were practicing in an orchestra.

They must have just started, because the harmony was a mess. Suddenly short of breath, Seo-ha stopped walking.

Screech-, bang, clang-.

The sounds clashed in the air without blending.

The disorderly sounds tormented his ears as if scratching his nerves.

Thump thump.

His heartbeat quickened.

Seo-ha swayed momentarily. Dizziness as if the ground beneath his feet was tilting.

‘This is bad. Here?’

He remembered he hadn’t given Ducky any time today because he’d been moving his materials to the dorm.

Seo-ha staggered forward. He had to get away from them as quickly as possible.

If he could find a quiet place and calm down, he’d feel better soon.

After walking for a while, another sound reached him from afar. A steady tone, beating like a metronome.

Ding- ding-.

Each key pressed created a regular rhythm that pulsed like a heartbeat. Soon, harmonies joined in and a melody began to flow.

’What song is this?’

Schubert’s Serenade.

Seo-ha, who had no knowledge of classical music, didn’t know the name of the piece.

The deep and gentle harmony filled the space.

His heart, which had been pounding wildly, gradually regained its pace in sync with the piano rhythm.

Seo-ha, as if drawn in, followed the sound.

The building the music came from had large glass windows, it was a music room. Inside, a girl was seated at a piano, playing.

Perfect harmony and beautifully calculated movement of notes gave him peace, like an orderly sequence.

Seo-ha sat leaning against the music room wall and closed his eyes.

As he shut them, the unpleasant traces of dissonance that had shaken his mind gradually faded away.

’Is music...mathematics?’

Seo-ha unconsciously matched his breathing to the rhythm of the keys.

His heartbeat synchronized with the tempo and found calm.

When the piece ended, the hands resting on the keys stopped quietly.

A moment of silence passed.

When Seo-ha opened his eyes, the performer had turned her head and was looking at him. He jumped up in surprise, but their eyes had already met.

In neat school uniform with long flowing hair.

She looked so delicate, it was hard to believe she had just played such a passionate piece. But her face looked very young.

At most, they were the same age?

“Who are you?”

Tired of the staring contest, she spoke first.

“Ah... Hello. I’m Yu Seo-ha.”

At Seo-ha’s answer, her expression brightened.

“Ah! I’ve heard of you! You’re in the science track, right? That math genius.”

“I don’t know about genius, but yes, I’m in the science track. And you... who are you?”

Seo-ha almost instinctively said “noona” but caught himself. No matter how he looked, she didn’t seem older.

“Han Gyeo-ul. Don’t you know me?”

Gyeo-ul tilted her head and asked Seo-ha back.

“If you go to this school, you can’t not know me, you know? I’ve heard your name a lot. My mom talks about you constantly.”

It bothered him a bit that someone who looked so young kept saying “you, you” informally.

“Why are you speaking informally to me?”

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen...”

Gyeo-ul shamelessly asked again.

“When’s your birthday?”

Seo-ha’s eyes narrowed.

“Hm?”

“I’m the same age as you. But you really don’t know Han Gyeo-ul, the winner of the Tchaikovsky Junior Competition?”

It was rare for a thirteen-year-old to win such a prestigious international competition for under-17s. After winning it, Gyeo-ul became famous nationwide. Her pretty looks helped, too.

Getting into the Gifted High School had, of course, been a free pass.

“I don’t know.”

“Now you’re speaking informally.”

“You started it first.”

“Anyway, since you listened for free, pay up.”

Gyeo-ul held out her palm like a debt collector.

“I have to pay?”

“Of course. You think listening to my performance is that easy? I’ve even had solo recitals at chamber halls.”

Seo-ha slightly averted his eyes from Gyeo-ul.

‘Is she joking? No, she must be serious. She looks way too serious.’

It was true that he had secretly listened to her performance. He just hadn’t expected to be asked to pay for it.

“Uh… how much? I don’t have anything on me right now, I’m out running. Do you maybe take school meal tickets?”

At Seo-ha’s dead serious expression, Gyeo-ul couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

“Puhaha!”

But Seo-ha couldn’t laugh.

Intimidated by Gyeo-ul’s polished appearance and tone of speech, Seo-ha, a country boy, shrank back. It felt completely different from when he dealt with older boys or girls.

“Come on, what money between students? I was joking, just joking.”

“Ah, really?”

Seo-ha’s face brightened as if he’d been saved.

“Instead, help me with my math homework. Just so you know, I’m not stupid, okay?

I don’t know anything from middle school math because I skipped a grade, and now I’m learning high school math. At thirteen! Does that make any sense?”

Even arts-track students had to study math.

She expressed her frustration with her whole body, as if she were about to cry.

‘Oh? Then maybe this is...’

Seo-ha recalled how her performance had calmed his mind and body. Maybe she could help him control Ducky.

He’d never felt that way listening to other music.

“Alright. But in return, every time we meet, play one piece for me. It was so good to listen to.”

At Seo-ha’s suggestion, Gyeo-ul’s eyes widened for a moment, then she sighed as if she understood everything.

“I get how you feel, but it’s no use. I’m too busy to do things like dating.”

Seo-ha was so dumbfounded, he was momentarily speechless.