Reality and Drama's Graduate School (6)
“Going to present at a seminar in Japan?”
It wasn't strictly a seminar, but Jeong Seo-hoon didn't bother correcting the details.
“Yes. We'll get filming consent from everyone in advance. If you spot any good shots worth capturing, feel free to film and use them.”
“Hmm... Come to think of it, the scene where Kim Jung-ae fully accepts Hwang Geon-wook and falls for him was him receiving a standing ovation at an academic conference, right? We could repurpose that here.”
Song Jeong-woo began vividly imagining the director's vision in his head.
“We can get extras for the standing ovation later. Having him look confident amid a crowd of distinguished folks from all races around the world would work great. What do you think?”
“I'll be confident anytime. Standing ovation might be tough, but I can draw solid reactions.”
“Perfect, then.”
Song Jeong-woo made the call right there on the spot.
“We're doing location shooting in Japan.”
Great discoveries often fail to capture the public's eye, celebrated only within scientific circles. Like a girlfriend shrugging off her boyfriend's excitement over century-awaited gravitational waves with a bored “What's that?”
The clues to room-temperature nuclear fusion were a hot topic buzzing across the global physics community, yet Korea's terrestrial broadcasters barely touched it.
Even major dailies covered it prominently in their science sections, but to readers glued to entertainment or sports pages, it might as well have been local election news from the other side of the world.
Most of the actors heading to Japan with them knew only that Lee Se-jong was attending as a key guest at an international seminar, with Jeong Seo-hoon tagging along for the experience.
“Overseas location shoot and we're chartering a plane? Isn't this abusing the production budget?”
“Nah. If the producer says it's fine, it is. It's ours till tomorrow—use it however you want.”
“'However you want'—we're not riding it nonstop anyway.”
The location shoot included all the cast playing professors, grad students, and undergrads.
Even Ko Sang-jun, who had appeared as Professor Park Joo-ho from POSTECH in episode one, joined them.
“By the way, Seo-hoon, you're prepping your grad thesis on fusion research, right?”
Yoo Jeong-ah, who had snagged the seat next to him by outmaneuvering the competition, asked slyly.
“Yes, that's right.”
“I don't know much about science, but is it true that if fusion becomes real, we'll have endless free electricity or whatever?”
“It'd slash environmental pollution and generation costs dramatically. Sustainable energy production for sure. But electricity bills won't get that cheap.”
“Because businesses will pocket the savings?”
“Exactly. Still, we could produce unlimited energy without further damaging nature.”
Jeong Seo-hoon added meaningfully.
“If commercialization happens.”
“Oh, so commercialization is still far off?”
“Way off. You might not live to see it, Jeong-ah.”
“Aw, that's a shame.”
“Even just having a milestone is huge progress for science.”
“You're doing such groundbreaking research, Seo-hoon.”
“I'm just standing on the shoulders of giants.”
Yoo Jeong-ah had scoured domestic science articles and vaguely knew Jeong Seo-hoon was drawing worldwide attention in the physics world.
But nowhere in those Korean articles did she find encouragement or support for him.
They all harped on contaminated data or interpretation errors, predicting the young scientist's bold venture would end in utter failure and humiliation.
'He's so confident, though—why are the articles so negative?'
His poise overflowed with the ease of someone perfectly prepared. Not a trace of the failure risks the domestic press had skeptically touted.
'Hope it works out for him. Anyway...'
“The National Fusion Research Institute, Osaka University, and Kyoto University teamed up to set this stage.”
The parking lot at the Fusion Research Center was jammed so full no more cars could enter.
Luckily, a reserved spot for Jeong Seo-hoon's group was empty, letting them park without issue.
The actors gawked curiously at their surroundings, while the staff hustled to set up gear under Song Jeong-woo's orders.
With reporter teams wandering everywhere cameras in hand, Song's crew blended right in seamlessly.
“Let's grab a few shots here first. Everyone ready?”
“Hold on—one more mirror check. Makeup from the airport to the car might be smudged.”
“Oh yeah, me too.”
After a brief flurry, they shot a few scenes under Song Jeong-woo's direction. Poor audio meant dialogue-free acting focused on movements and expressions.
That's when a middle-aged white man boasting a lush beard approached with his entourage.
“Claude, the editor.”
“Nice to meet you, Professor. And this is...?”
“Dr. Jeong Seo-hoon, my student.”
“An honor. I hope today brings stellar results.”
Jeong Seo-hoon flashed an awkward smile as he shook Claude's proffered hand.
“Jeong Seo-hoon. Not a doctor yet—just a first-year master's student.”
“Degrees are formalities. You're already a full-fledged doctor.”
Song Jeong-woo captured their fluent English exchange flawlessly on camera. Perfect footage to edit into the drama.
“Mr. Jeong, it's no exaggeration to say every renowned nuclear physicist worldwide is here. You good?”
“Worried I'll embarrass myself on the global stage?”
“No, I expect success. Just concerned the pressure might lead to a slip-up.”
“Pressure doesn't faze me.”
Years on battlefields where lives vanished endlessly amid blood—what was this compared to that?
Jeong Seo-hoon suppressed the sardonic sneer rising from his colonel's instincts.
Claude flinched slightly at the sharp gaze, then flashed a sociable smile as if nothing happened.
“I can keep expecting great things, then.”
Beyond the barricades around the massive tokamak fusion reactor, countless chairs were arrayed in a fan shape for scientists.
But not a single one sat.
Everyone milled about standing, endlessly networking, debating, predicting outcomes.
“Every camera angle's a winner. This raw vibe—no directing can fake it.”
Song Jeong-woo hummed excitedly nonstop.
Placing actors amid the freely debating scientists and filming up close nailed the massive conference feel.
“When Seo-hoon's turn ends, everyone face him and hit your lines' expressions—got it?”
“Yes, PD.”
“Not everyone's presenting, right? Otherwise, it won't wrap today.”
“Seo-hoon, what's your order?”
“Haven't heard.”
“Why no presentation lineup handout?”
Meanwhile, Lee Se-jong grumbled ahead of Jeong Seo-hoon.
“No one's even coming over to ask questions.”
“Nothing verified yet, so nothing to ask?”
“Folks from Daejeon that day should know—no manipulations at all.”
“They're holding back till the public demo ends.”
“Dr. Jeong's steel nerves are just like his father's. Now with two Dr. Jeongs, how do we distinguish?”
Then Claude arrived escorting elderly Japanese, white, and Black scientists.
“Allow me to introduce: Professor Akari, vice director of Osaka University's Fusion Research Center; Professor Dmitri, spark construction lead for MIT's fusion reactor...”
Each introduction was a heavyweight name in the field.
Some had attended the Daejeon demo; others hadn't.
Professor Dmitri spoke first.
“That public demo was impressive. Analyzed the raw data thoroughly after. Still can't grasp how irregular voltage and magnetic fluctuations alone collapse electrostatic forces.”
“Speak freely. Worried KFE colluded in my fraud?”
Accusations of experimental manipulation were a grave insult to any honest scientist. Faulty results differed vastly from malicious faking.
“No, I don't doubt your academic integrity, Dr. Jeong. It's just... beyond my scientific common sense.”
“That's why we're here today. One of two conclusions today: my discovery holds true, or...”
Jeong Seo-hoon paused, calmly scanning the debating attendees with a glance.
The drama crew's camera captured the solemn tension perfectly.
“Everyone here becomes complicit in the fraud.”
“...”
“I trust you've prepared thoroughly—no lingering doubts after.”
Claude nodded gravely.
“You can. Proving it here equals proving it to global physics.”
Two reenactments already, one fully staged by them.
The process might remain unknown, but the outcome was undeniable.
“Succeed under our conditions today, and the paper publishes immediately. When will the 'Jeong Seo-hoon equation' be formalized?”
“I'll compile ASAP, but it's fragmented ideas—takes time. Issue?”
“No. Success today, nothing else matters. Refine gradually. It's just the means.”
The moment arrived.
Jeong Seo-hoon stood at the fusion reactor controls, laptop connected. Everyone sat hushed, watching.
The Japanese fusion team assisting and supervising bustled, logging every data point meticulously.
This vast observatory would record even minute voltage shifts and tiny particle energies.
Data and results shared live to all attendees, for endless physics scrutiny.
Jeong Seo-hoon synced his perception to this giant camera.
'Comet 3I/Macdrian, now I come for you.'
Following the laptop's controls, subatomic cameras unleashed harmonies of complex voltage, charge, magnetic variations.
Like intricate melodies entangling, a grand orchestra dancing particles.
Inaudible music exciting particles, dismantling electrostatic barriers.
The true baton crafting that melody: Jeong Seo-hoon's observations via Lens authority.
Under merciless observation, the electrostatic wall crumbled; perfectly interlocking protrusions meshed seamlessly, yielding to nuclear forces. Protons and neutrons fused unbound.
“Ah...”
“No way, but this...”
“Japan! Any chance the Japanese fusion team manipulated data?”
“Calm down!”
“Impossible! Gain coefficient over 500 already? Insane...!”
The macro-world clamor brought no joy.
Jeong Seo-hoon was fully immersed in his authority's subatomic shifts.
'Beautiful...'
Infinite repetitions of intricate electrostatic protrusions perfectly aligning, drawing each other in—utterly mesmerizing.
All hydrogen transmuted to helium.
To deny this as fusion meant claiming Japan's National Institute, Osaka, and Kyoto's triad secretly planted the helium for Jeong Seo-hoon—evading Science, US, UK, French, German oversight amid hordes of luminaries.
Room-temperature nuclear fusion's feasibility was perfectly proven.
Jeong Seo-hoon turned to the attendees.
No one sat. All stood applauding.
“Questions now.”
Thousands raised hands in unison.
Originally, wrap the experiment today, fly home tomorrow.
But fervent pleas from Science-backed luminaries delayed by a day.
The Japanese fusion team scrambled a conference venue; evening scientific gathering set.
“Shown plenty— no need for more.”
The laptop's control program was unremarkable.
The real magic: Lens authority.
Yet many believed it housed the 'Jeong Seo-hoon equation's foundations.
“Keep researching with Lens, maybe eventually fusion sans authority. Like the Empire...”
Jeong Seo-hoon activated his custom ransomware on the laptop. It rampaged, encrypting files at breakneck speed.
Decryption key solely in his mind—unsolvable eternally.
He stashed the encrypting laptop in the hotel safe and locked it.
Exiting the room, Lee Se-jong waited in the hall, beaming.
“Dr. Jeong, come on. The world's waiting.”
Claude was there too.
His gaze now brimmed with respect, utterly changed.
Address shifted.
“Doctor, laptop secure?”
“Yes, in the hotel safe.”
“Loss or theft would be global tragedy. Apologies for the hassle—we posted guards at your door. Bear with us.”
“Thank you.”