Step Out into the Square
“The paper won't be cited.”
At Edward Kang's calm remark, both Dean Gu Byung-ook and Kim Sang-wook, the head of the mathematics department, nodded silently.
It was a result they had already anticipated.
This paper lacked scalability and reusability.
The formula was merely a custom-built tool that only worked on the specific path Cheol-jun had discovered.
One had to follow the exact same orbit and the 250-page calculation process, word for word, without a single mistake, to reach that conclusion.
In other words, it was a theory with no citation value as a universal tool.
“There will be quite a few mathematicians who get worked up over what I wrote, but they won't bother engaging. Once they look closely, they'll realize the formula is so logically perfect that it's impossible to refute. Only a fool would pick a fight when the outcome is already decided. I prepared for the worst just in case, but chances are, no one will challenge it directly. They have too much to lose.”
Edward Kang smirked.
“But thanks to Professor Kim Sang-wook, the formula itself has become widely known in academia. If I had published it under my own name, the big shots in mathematics would have refuted it immediately, before it could even stir up any real debate. They would have attacked it on the grounds that it isn't a universal tool for expanding the horizon of human knowledge, and undergraduates or junior researchers wouldn't have even dared to look at it.”
Dean Gu Byung-ook patted Department Head Kim Sang-wook on the shoulder.
Kim's hair seemed to have thinned out a bit in the meantime.
Professor Kim let out a low sigh.
Watching him, Edward Kang shrugged and continued.
“In any case, the formula is now widely known. And because of the post I made, even the elite mathematicians who wouldn't have spared the paper a glance must have looked into it out of curiosity.”
Edward Kang tapped his index finger on the table.
“And now, everyone knows. It may lack value as a formal paper, but logically, the formula absolutely holds up. That was the only thing we needed the academic community to widely acknowledge. And we succeeded. The very fact that they claim it lacks universality is, paradoxically, the mathematics community's official certification that the calculation results themselves are flawless.”
Edward Kang turned his head. Meeting his gaze, Seo Young-ho, the head of the astronomy department, and Cha Seon-hyeok, a research professor, both had their eyes shining brightly.
“Now, we just need to deliver a proper blow in astronomy. Using a formula that mathematicians worldwide have personally verified as true.”
The two astronomy professors clenched their fists.
If they had published an astronomy paper using this formula first, the mainstream astronomy community, including Kenichi Sato, would have refused to acknowledge it out of political bias.
It wouldn't have even received validation from the mathematics community.
The interpretation of data was always dictated by the mainstream voice. To those who held massive capital and supercomputers, Seohan University's counterargument could have easily been buried under the frame of a failed calculation that couldn't even control observational errors.
But now that mathematicians worldwide had unanimously declared this proof perfect, if Sato wanted to deny this formula, he would have to wage a head-on war against the very foundations of modern mathematics.
Cha Seon-hyeok shook his head.
“From now on, astronomy is going to become a field of pure grunt work.”
After all, this paper laid bare the sheer limitations of numerical integration.
Edward Kang burst into laughter at Cha Seon-hyeok's self-deprecating remark.
Until now, astronomers had hidden behind the performance of supercomputers, glossing over complex physical phenomena with rough approximations and packaging them under the name of numerical integration.
Perhaps human intellect had actually regressed with the advancement of civilization.
Since the advent of machines with massive computational power, scholars had begun to avoid the painful process of thinking for themselves and piercing through to the essence of truth.
Instead of swimming through a sea of complex equations, they simply fed data into supercomputers, complacent in believing that the resulting approximations were the absolute answers without even knowing what was happening inside the machine.
But now that this single path forged by Cheol-jun had been revealed, they could no longer discuss orbits by relying solely on mechanical computing power.
The brute-force calculation process, which mathematicians had certified as grunt work with no citation value, had paradoxically returned to astronomers as their most precise tool.
The mainstream astronomy community had to change now.
Just as modern astronomy was divided into the eras before and after the James Webb Space Telescope, this paper was that groundbreaking.
“What's wrong with grunt work? If that's the path to the real universe, we'll gladly walk it.”
Department Head Seo Young-ho adjusted his glasses with a resolute expression, and Edward Kang nodded with a bright smile.
“Then, I'll leave the astronomy side to you two.”
As Edward Kang turned his head, everyone's gaze followed his.
At the center of their attention sat the genius who had shaken the very foundations of astronomy, yet looked completely unfazed, blinking his round eyes with a pure, innocent face.
“Cheol-jun, what about you? Do you want to talk to the mathematician teachers directly?”
Cheol-jun smiled brightly.
“Yes!”
In truth, the original goal of lending weight to the astronomy paper had been achieved.
However, the biggest task still remained.
They had to introduce this mind-boggling genius to the academic world.
In fact, the post he had uploaded to his blog was meant to set the stage for exactly that.
Stirring up a bigger controversy would make it much easier for the astronomy department to voice their claims.
Above all, he wanted to show other mathematicians the same awe he had felt.
What kind of faces would those arrogant authorities make when they finally laid eyes on this child?
Edward Kang smirked like a mischievous kid, imagining a stage that was on a completely different level from any half-baked academic conference.
Edward Kang's blog was updated once again.
It was written in a much more polite tone than his previous post.
However, its content was far sharper.
Mathematics is, by nature, a solitary journey of finding order within chaos.
The recent paper on the Many-Body Problem published by researcher Lee Cheol-jun of Seohan University poses a very fundamental question to us all.
I am well aware that many of my colleagues have expressed concern regarding the elegance of this paper and its value as a universal tool.
I, too, deeply respect the value of abstraction that modern mathematics has pursued.
However, we must ask ourselves whether we have become so engrossed in the formal beauty of academia that we are turning a blind eye to the substantive truth that those forms are meant to contain.
No matter how elegant the lines of a map are drawn, if it fails to reflect the actual terrain, it is merely a work of art and loses its function as a map.
Though his formula may resemble a rough, unpolished stone, it is an undeniable fact that he has planted his flag at the pinnacle of truth—a peak that no sophisticated theory has managed to reach over the past century.
Therefore, with the utmost academic courtesy, I would like to invite my fellow mathematicians from around the world to an open, online academic seminar.
This will not be a place for condemnation, but a forum to discuss the primitive power and new possibilities of mathematics that we have lost.
My colleagues, please stop your discourses in closed rooms and step out into the public square.
Truth does not fear the light.
Edward Kang's blog was already quite famous among mathematicians.
He had always enjoyed broadcasting and discussing high-level mathematical theories on his blog.
Whenever a mathematician claimed to have solved a difficult problem, scholars from all over the world would gather in the comment section of Edward Kang's blog to review the formulas and point out errors in real-time.
Renowned scholars often appeared on his live broadcasts, and they would hold deep discussions over the phone.
It was, so to speak, a real-time academic conference and verification system open to everyone.
Its scale was on a completely different level from closed academic conferences, which gathered at most a few hundred people.
It was an open square where anyone, even non-mathematicians, could come and watch, where authority held no sway, and where only the sharpness of logic served as one's rank.
Now, Edward Kang had invited scholars to that very square.
First and foremost, the eyes of young mathematicians lit up.
They were the ones who had been suffocated the most by the yardstick of "elegance" wielded by the giants of the mainstream academic world.
For those who found it difficult to publish a single paper unless they aligned themselves with an influential professor, and whose innovative solutions were routinely thrown into the trash simply because they didn't conform to traditional academic grammar, the emergence of this mysterious author was an event and an icon in itself.
Most of them had personally witnessed their advising professors dismiss the formula, only to watch them panic in real-time once they actually tried to solve it themselves. Thus, the thrill they felt was extraordinary.
To them, the name Lee Cheol-jun was more than just a scholar who had solved the Many-Body Problem; he was a symbol of crushing authority with the sheer weight of flawless logic.
While everyone understood why the paper couldn't be cited, they also knew that the truth it proved could not be denied.
Young mathematicians began spreading the news through online communities and social media.
Naturally, the gaze of young researchers turned toward their advising professors.
Faced with that polite yet razor-sharp invitation pinned to Edward Kang's blog, the professors had to confront a type of pressure they had never felt before in their lives.
If they ignored this invitation, they would undoubtedly be seen by their students not as elegant scholars, but as cowards fleeing from the truth.
After all, authority in academia came as much from the courage to defend knowledge as it did from the depth of that knowledge.
For them, this online debate had become a defensive battle with no retreat—a stage where they had to at least salvage their pride as scholars.
“What's the atmosphere like at the École Normale Supérieure in Paris?”
At an old professor's question, his assistant showed him a tablet.
The young scholars there were already shaping public opinion in real-time, urging big shots like Professor Renoir to step up.
As time passed, the masters of the field gradually began to realize one thing:
They could no longer use their most convenient shield—indifference.
“So basically, he taunted them once, but they chickened out? Since nobody replied?”
At Min-jun's words, Cheol-jun furrowed his brow and nodded.
It did seem somewhat like that.
“So he taunted them again?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Wow, those math teachers are savage. But honestly, once they chicken out, it's totally fine to keep taunting them.”
Ha-rang, who was listening nearby, smirked.
“Until you get beat up.”
“So what?”
“U mad?”
“Nope.”
“Scared?”
“Yeah, right.”
Cheol-jun blinked his round eyes.
For some reason, the current situation felt very similar to these two.
The world of adults was a bit strange.
To Cheol-jun, it was simply like drawing lines to connect the stars scattered across the night sky.
When you drew the lines, you could see where the stars were moving, and if it was correct, it felt good.
If it was wrong, you could just draw them again.
But those teachers cared less about where the stars were going and more about how pretty the pencil was or how smooth the lines were.
Yet, Cheol-jun didn't dislike those teachers.
In fact, he felt a bit sorry for them.
They were wearing such high-quality glasses that while they could see the entire forest perfectly, they seemed to miss the tiny flowers blooming right at their feet.
They were so busy debating how elegant the forest was that they seemed to have forgotten how cool the breeze blowing through the trees felt.
He had no intention of forcing them to take off their glasses.
He simply wanted to show them that even beyond those lenses, there was a universe beautiful enough on its own.
Seeing Cheol-jun lost in thought, Min-jun tilted his head.
“So basically, they chickened out of a real-life fight, so now they're just having a keyboard war?”
“Well, something like that.”
“Want us to help? We're experts at that. I even beat a high schooler in math on an online forum before.”
“Yeah, using ChatGPT, right?”
“Whatever!”
Cheol-jun furrowed his brow slightly.
Listening to his friends, something felt off.
Was this supposed to be a fight?
“No, it's not a fight.”
“Huh?”
“It's holding hands and walking together.”
Ha-rang and Min-jun frowned.
“What is he even talking about?”
“Off to his own little world again, aren't we?”
Did there really have to be a winner and a loser?
When they were all looking in the same direction anyway?
Suddenly, his thoughts fell into place, and Cheol-jun's eyes sparkled.
“I'm going home first!”
“What? What about the PC bang?”
“Oh, come on! Cheol-jun!”
“Hehe. Sorry!”
Cheol-jun smiled brightly and began sprinting toward home.
Behind him, Min-jun and Ha-rang vigorously flipped him off.