I Got an Omnipotent Brain

[Guys! Duck Lord again....]

-It doesn’t seem to have been reported in Korea yet, but an article came out in the U.S. This is our Duck Lord, right? Here’s the translated article.

The Boston Globe,

On the 24th, the Boston city government announced that it had designated MIT researchers’ next-generation traffic signal control model as an official subject for review and had begun development for pilot section implementation.

This project is centered on the ‘self-referential phase variable’ algorithm proposed by MIT researcher Yu Seo-ha.

It is a system designed to replace the existing centralized traffic control, allowing each intersection signal to learn traffic volume and pedestrian flow by itself and synchronize its phase with surrounding intersections.

Boston Transportation Authority Deputy Director Alan Smith said, “This model is an innovative approach that views traffic flow not from a control perspective, but from one of coordination,” and stated that development and testing would begin soon.

Boston Mayor Patrick Stewart began by saying, “We are starting the first experiment that could fundamentally solve urban traffic problems through collaboration with MIT.”

He couldn’t hide his excitement, saying, “If this project succeeds, Boston will become a pioneer in global traffic systems.”

According to city officials, the development period will be between six months to a year, and the official pilot operation is scheduled to begin by next year at the latest.

└ Missing the Duck Lord. I’m glad he seems to be doing well over there too.

└ Shouldn’t the MIT folks experience some of that spiciness too? Felt a bit unfair that only we had to endure it.

└ He’s the sunbae who had a solo graduation, right?

└ Yeah, that’s him. They say he’s a total monster, even in the U.S. ㄷㄷㄷ

└ Do you know how it felt for us to take midterms and finals with him?

└ Think he’s played soccer yet?

└ The news is out! Good thing I got his autograph on that journalㅋㅋㅋ Value skyrocketing!!

Click.

Gyeo-ul closed her laptop and looked out the window.

The heat of summer had disappeared before she knew it, and late autumn rain was falling. Raindrops sliding down the window glass blurred along the light.

On the desk lay a newly recorded CD.

[Han Gyeo-ul Private Session Vol. 4]

Seo-ha said he was fine, but she was worried anyway, so she recorded her performance. If she sent it by courier, it would arrive in America quickly.

“...I wonder if he’s doing well. It’s hard to know since he doesn’t say anything even when he’s sick.”

Gyeo-ul sat down on the piano bench and pressed the keys.

The low note of a D chord resonated heavily. That vibration reminded her of the incident with Seo-ha not long ago.

Her face flushed red.

As if to make up for her time off, Gyeo-ul had been performing on stages both domestic and abroad, entering competitions without hesitation.

She swept first place in all contests, from large to small stages in Seoul, Singapore, and Tokyo.

At first, it was merely venting her frustration.

But as she continued to perform, Gyeo-ul began to feel that her piano had changed.

The texture of her music became more delicate, and depth emerged in her emotions. She finally realized she had broken free from being just a student and had become a true musician in every sense.

Thump thump.

She placed a hand on her chest.

That calm heartbeat she had heard that day.

The regular yet warm resonance had now become a light within her that illuminated the darkness.

Now, even in practice and not just competitions, Gyeo-ul was able to play with rich emotion.

During lesson time,

Her piano teacher, Lim Seon-hwa, looked at her with warm eyes.

“Gyeo-ul, Juilliard is great, but how about trying to apply to Curtis?”

Gyeo-ul’s hand paused.

The Curtis Institute of Music,

A small elite group with only about 150 students total. Among them, only thirty are admitted as freshmen.

If limited to piano, maybe ten at most.

It is likely the hardest music school to get into in the world.

“All of a sudden? You supported me when I said I’d go to Juilliard before.”

Seon-hwa smiled gently.

“That was because back then, you hadn’t yet shown the skill to be accepted into Curtis.”

A surge of emotion rose within her, but it wasn’t something she couldn’t understand.

“You graduated from Curtis too, right, teacher?”

She was one of the few world-renowned pianists from Korea. Gyeo-ul had often looked up her past interviews, and stories from her time at Curtis frequently came up.

“Yes, that’s right. That was the most cruel yet beautiful period of my life.”

As she recalled those days, her eyes filled with melancholy.

“Technically, you’ve always been complete. But that place looks into your inner self. You have to play with your soul in it.”

“Do you think I’m qualified?”

Seon-hwa nodded.

The Curtis Institute of Music is located in Philadelphia, within easy reach of New York.

“I’ll try. I want to achieve the best result I can.”

If she stayed still, it felt like he would drift far away.

Just as Seo-ha was building a world of his own, Gyeo-ul wanted to have the qualifications to stand beside him.

***

Whitman had been full of vitality lately.

As a professor and now dean, he had spent 30 years moving between administration and research. He was at an age where he could have grown tired, but his steps were lighter than ever before.

Whitman put down his coffee cup and scanned the report brought to the faculty meeting.

An official document sent from Boston City Hall.

All he had done was assign a project, yet it had moved the entire city.

Today’s faculty meeting agenda was Yu Seo-ha.

At MIT, there had never been a case where an undergraduate was designated as an official researcher on a government project.

“Wouldn’t it be sufficient to have him participate as a Research Assistant? Undergraduates can’t bear legal responsibility. There’s no need to complicate things administratively.”

One professor cautiously offered an opinion.

Clack.

Whitman put down the pen he was holding.

“The mayor saw the algorithm that student created and submitted the proposal to us. And you want to use him as an assistant just because he doesn’t have a degree?

That’s no different from declaring that this school is going to steal Seo-ha’s knowledge.”

The meeting room instantly fell silent.

“I understand what you’re worried about. I’ll list myself as the PI (Principal Investigator) and handle all legal and administrative responsibilities.

But what if we register him as a co-investigator and give him leadership of the research?”

“You want to list an undergraduate as a co-investigator?”

“There’s no precedent for that. I’m not sure if the Research Ethics Committee would approve.”

The professors murmured among themselves.

A co-investigator is granted immense authority and benefits.

Not only a significant salary and research funds, but also a private office, computing resources, priority access to equipment and devices, and even the right to hire assistants.

Normally, this was a position one could only attain after becoming a postdoc.

Most of all, it granted the right to hold research equity managed by the Technology Licensing Office (TLO).

Whitman requested to speak.

“We’re talking about principles, but the truth is we’re scared. Let’s not crush a researcher’s spirit by saying there’s no precedent.

The value we hold most dear is the greatness of human intellect. And that has never once been judged by age or degree.”

The professors nodded in agreement.

“Galois didn’t even get into university.”

“Abel didn’t have a doctoral degree either.”

The moderator read the agenda again.

“To appoint Yu Seo-ha as a co-investigator under the MIT Department of Mathematics. Dean Whitman will serve as PI and hold all administrative and legal responsibility.

Research equity will follow TLO policy.”

TLO clearly defines the ownership structure of research conducted within the university to prevent future disputes.

1/3 to the inventor, 1/3 to the department, and 1/3 to MIT.

If the project succeeded and expanded across the United States, Seo-ha’s research would hold tremendous value.

“All in favor?”

Hands went up one by one.

With unanimous vote, Seo-ha became the first undergraduate co-investigator in MIT history.

***

A new nameplate had been installed at the far end of the second floor of the mathematics building.

[Room 2-148.

Yu Seo-ha, Lead Investigator, MIT Department of Mathematics]

When he opened the door, the smell of oil and paint unique to new buildings rushed in.

Three of the office’s walls, except for the window side, were entirely covered in chalkboards. They were brand new, the protective film not even peeled off yet.

Fweee!

Root whistled.

“This whole thing is yours?”

“I’ve been at MIT for three years, and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Isn’t it better than a professor’s office?”

Entropy and Cypher spoke with wide eyes.

Seo-ha smiled awkwardly and unfolded the blueprint in his hand. MIT had arranged the office exactly as he had requested.

“This workstation is insane.”

“The touchscreen board is the latest model too. It’s huge.”

Seo-ha, who wasn’t very knowledgeable about devices, had asked them for help when requesting the necessary equipment.

The resulting space was a lab no undergraduate should be able to have.

A miniature 3D printer for building city models, ultra-precise digital pens and tablets, a laptop docking station, and a network system.

It was a setup heavily reflecting the hackers’ tastes.

”I want to live here!”

Entropy plopped into a chair and spun herself around, whining like a child.

“If it were me, I’d live here too. No rent, how great is that?”

Root pointed to the couch in one corner.

“All that’s left is setting up the network.”

Cypher sent a signal to the transportation authority.

The line in this room connected to a secondary server at the Transportation Authority through a secure gateway.

“Connection complete.”

As Cypher tapped on the keyboard, a green light lit up on one side of the monitor.

“Authentication token verified and encrypted channel opened. The data feed is coming in now.”

The screen flickered, and soon a flood of numbers and graphs began streaming in real-time.

The intersections marked on the map started to light up one by one.

Signals, traffic volume, vehicle queue lengths, all the data from across Boston was being transmitted to the server in this room.

Root let out a breath of amazement.

“Wow, we can actually see the city moving.”

“Deputy Director Alan said he’d share as much data as possible.”

Whatever magic he had worked, everything was proceeding like clockwork.

Seo-ha was able to receive nearly all the support he needed for his research.

After Spectra Works left, Seo-ha took a slow look around the lab.

For the first time in his life, he had a space of his own.

Thump.

He dropped into the chair and spun around like Entropy.

”I’ll be able to do a ton of research from now on.”

He remembered sneaking into a classroom to complete the four-color theorem.

That time was now behind him.

Riiip-

He peeled the plastic from the chalkboard.

Touching it with his hand, the cool surface felt satisfying.

His spirits high, he moved around the room until he finally threw himself onto the sofa.

His back sank into the springy cushion.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hahaha! This really isn’t a dream, right?”

Sprawling out on the couch, he rolled around with his arms out and shouted in celebration.

When he turned his head while lying down, he saw Ellie and Jason trying to hold back their laughter.

Flushed with embarrassment, Seo-ha sprang up from the couch.

At that moment, Ellie and Jason screamed and ran toward him.

“Kyyaaaaaa!”

“Hurraaaaay! We did it!”

They messed up his hair, wildly ruffling it with their hands.

Seo-ha wasn’t the only one experiencing the thrill of completing his first full-fledged project.

”Thank you for choosing us!”

“I’ll really work hard too!”

Seo-ha had chosen these two as his assigned assistants.

While they didn’t have a share in the research equity, the experience would help their careers and they would receive decent compensation.

““Cheers!””

The three toasted with cans of Mountain Dew from the vending machine.