A World of Formulas
Cheol-jun was having the time of his life every single day.
The math books his tutor had given him were a whole new world.
A language that perfectly explained any phenomenon through symbols and formulas.
The process of raising a question mark, formulating a hypothesis, and proving it.
To Cheol-jun, mathematics was the most fun puzzle game in the world, and the most lucid explanation for understanding the universe.
"What are you doing? Aren't you going in?"
Standing in front of the department store's revolving door, Cheol-jun furrowed his brow.
Watching the speed of the rotating door, the period and angular velocity of trigonometric functions came to mind.
Since it's rotating at an angular velocity of about pi over six radians per second, if my stride is about fifty centimeters, then entering at a speed of 1.2 meters per second to match the peak of the y = sin t... graph would perfectly...
It was absolutely fascinating.
Everything in the world was connected by mathematics.
"Oh my! The boy is so handsome, everything looks good on him. Right now, we have a ten percent discount, plus we're giving five percent of the payment back in points. If you use those points for your next purchase, you'll accumulate another five percent, so it's practically like getting a discount of over twenty percent..."
Cheol-jun's eyes sparkled.
An infinite geometric series?
The sum of an infinite geometric series with a first term of 0.05 and a common ratio of 0.05 is 0.05 divided by 1 minus 0.05. Even assuming the points circulate infinitely, the limit of the actual additional discount rate converges to 5.26 percent. Adding that to the basic ten percent discount makes it a maximum of 15.26 percent, which means a twenty percent discount is mathematically impossible to achieve...
"Haha. Then we'll take what he's wearing now, and that T-shirt too. Let's see, do we need to buy some more tops..."
The clothes Uncle Hyeong-man had bought him so far consisted of three tops, two bottoms, one lightweight padded jacket, one windbreaker, and two tracksuit sets.
Is this... combinations?
The number of ways to mix and match three tops and two bottoms is six. If we include the options of wearing either the lightweight padded jacket, the windbreaker, or nothing at all on top, that's multiplied by three, making eighteen combinations.
Adding the two tracksuit sets multiplied by the three outerwear options adds six more. Since you can't wear regular clothes and tracksuits at the same time, applying that directly yields a total of twenty-four completely different combinations...
"Those pants look nice, too. Give me another pair in the same size."
With one more variable added to the bottoms, recalculating gives a total of thirty-three combinations, which means a different outfit every day for over a month...
When Cheol-jun beamed, Hyeong-man patted his head.
"You like it too?"
That wasn't why he was smiling, but Cheol-jun just nodded anyway.
The space allocated to each store calculated by the number of tiles on the department store floor; the minute error rate in the speeds of the escalator handrail and the steps; the calculation of the shortest path using vectors and spatial geometry inspired by looking at the floor map.
Everything in the world was mathematics.
He hadn't known things would connect like this, but there was a strange beauty in how they inevitably did.
Cheol-jun blinked his round eyes, indulging in this neatly organized world.
Everything has an answer.
Mathematics.
A perfectly predictable world.
A set, definitive answer.
Certainty.
"Hey, kiddo. Let's get some shoes too. Ni*e?"
Since Ni*e is in the corner of the floor right below, the shortest route would be via the stairs...
"Haha. Look at you, all excited because we're buying clothes."
Hyeong-man walked toward the escalator with a broad grin. Cheol-jun cast a lingering, regretful look at the stairs—his calculated shortest route—before quickly scurrying after Hyeong-man.
"Alright. You're going out by yourself. What's the number one thing you need to watch out for?"
"Uh..."
"Didn't your dad teach you back in China?"
Cheol-jun furrowed his brow.
"The police?"
"No! The police are the ones who help you when you're in danger."
Cheol-jun grinned.
"I'm joking. Just a joke."
"Ha, this kid..."
"Avoid strangers if they talk to you, watch out for cars, and on unfamiliar roads, keep track of your direction and distance using large buildings as landmarks. Always prepare at least two escape routes in case of an emergency... Ah, wait, not that. Calculate the viewing angles of nearby CCTV cameras to stay in the blind spots... No, wait. If we're prioritizing safety here, I should avoid the blind spots. Oh, and if a suspicious person follows me, it's essential to turn at irregular intervals to throw off their predicted path. Right?"
Hyeong-man smacked his lips.
Well, a few weird things had slipped in there, but it seemed the kid had been taught well enough.
"Keep a close eye on your phone and wallet."
Cheol-jun patted his small cross-body bag.
"Yes, sir!"
"Sigh... Don't go too far. Only go up to the second intersection we walked to together. Just walk around and look at things within that boundary."
"Yes, sir!"
"Alright. Let's see, it's two in the afternoon right now, so you have to be back by four at the very latest."
"Yes, sir!"
"Alright. Move out!"
"Yes, sir!"
Cheol-jun quickly opened the front door and stepped out.
Hyeong-man stared blankly at his retreating back, and the moment the door clicked shut, he hurriedly threw on his jacket.
And then, he pressed his ear against the front door.
"Ding. The doors are opening."
"First floor."
Hearing the elevator doors close completely, Hyeong-man quickly flung the front door open.
And then, he bolted toward the emergency stairs.
Today was Cheol-jun's very first solo outing.
For this very day, Hyeong-man had intentionally walked around the neighborhood with him several times.
The boy was incredibly smart, but Seoul was bound to be far more complicated than anywhere they had lived before.
Of course, public safety was bound to be much better here, but it was still a completely different environment, so he couldn't help but worry.
Pant. Pant. Ah, damn it. My knees...
Having sprinted all the way down to the first floor in one breath, Hyeong-man gasped for air as he stepped outside.
Then, he tapped his phone screen.
A red dot was moving on the map.
Let's see... Sigh, he's already left the apartment complex.
I thought he'd play in the playground for a bit before heading out...
Hyeong-man scrunched up his nose and started running again.
Cheol-jun walked, taking in his surroundings with wide, curious eyes.
People walking the streets, gridlocked roads, and buildings packed tightly on both sides.
It was still so fascinating.
He still couldn't wrap his head around how safe it felt, despite being so crowded and full of alleys.
In China, he had almost never walked along a main road alone like this.
Cheol-jun had no intention of going far.
He had already decided on his destination while riding in Uncle Hyeong-man's car.
It was the place where he had seen the most kids his age.
It was just one block away from home.
Up ahead, he began to see kids his age walking around together with casual, nonchalant expressions.
He relaxed a little.
Whoa, they're all dragging huge bags behind them?
He stared blankly at the building the children were entering.
Signs were lined up in a row.
Math academy, English academy, math academy, and another math academy.
The building next to it was the same.
Math, science, English, essay writing...
A yellow bus pulled up, and another crowd of kids poured out, running into the building.
Hmm...
Cheol-jun found a spot on a nearby set of stairs and sat down.
Then, he began to observe the children.
Most of them were around his age, or looked slightly younger.
But something was strange.
Even though they were going to learn that incredibly fun subject, mathematics, every single child's face was gloomy.
Their steps were heavy, like cattle being dragged to a slaughterhouse. They were either expressionless or visibly irritated.
Cheol-jun's gaze drifted to the massive bags the children were dragging.
They looked quite heavy.
Are those all books inside?
As the children who got off the yellow bus were sucked into the building, another group poured out of the building to board the same bus.
Is this how ordinary Korean kids study every day?
Cheol-jun blinked his round eyes, watching the children.
To Cheol-jun, Korea was a paradise.
A country where he could walk the streets freely, eat delicious food, and search for whatever knowledge he desired—the more he experienced it, the more certain he was that it was heaven.
Yet, the expressions and steps of the children living in this paradise were all so incredibly heavy.
They didn't seem sick, they didn't seem hungry, and they didn't seem to be chased by anyone, but none of them looked happy.
But why, in this paradise?
Cheol-jun began to ponder the reason.
This was a problem that couldn't be solved with mathematics.
Which made it incredibly intriguing.
Go Chang-ho, the homeroom teacher of the Special Creativity Class at Hanyoung Private Elementary School, was sitting in a convenience store, staring blankly out the window.
Elementary schoolers were moving in droves, dragging suitcases half their size.
It was a common sight in Daechi-dong.
Sigh...
How heavy must those suitcases be?
They must be packed full of textbooks.
Math, English, science, maybe even essay writing.
"Senior. Your ramen is getting soggy."
Go Chang-ho let out a dry chuckle at the words of Yoo Min-seok, his junior who had studied with him at Harvard before returning to Korea after finishing only his bachelor's degree.
"Soggy is fine. It means there's more of it."
"It also means it tastes terrible."
Yoo Min-seok shook his head and dug into his ramen.
Go Chang-ho let out another sigh and picked up his wooden chopsticks.
"You can't teach curiosity. Just not killing it is enough. But most educational systems are designed to kill it. They teach the fastest way to reach the answer first. The moment you find out the answer, a spark of curiosity is extinguished."
"Can we just eat when we're eating?"
"At that age, they should be drowning in curiosity, frantically searching for answers. Instead, we lay down a direct highway for them..."
"There's nothing we can do. If they don't do that, they fall behind. It's your second year back in Korea, so you should have a grasp of the educational climate here by now. Isn't it about time you compromised? Why did you have to choose such a topic for your thesis anyway..."
"The process of extrinsic motivation killing intrinsic motivation! That is exactly what those kids look like. As you can see, there are countless cases, and the problems are glaringly obvious."
"Sigh. This country doesn't even realize that's a problem. Medical school for STEM! Law school for humanities! That's their definition of happiness and their ultimate goal in life."
"You took Professor Marcus's class too, didn't you? Is this right? Elementary schoolers not even being able to play during their vacation..."
"Alright, I get it, so just eat your ramen."
"Sigh... I feel so sorry for those kids."
"I feel sorrier for you, Senior. With your incredible credentials, you're just a private elementary school teacher. Why not just become a professor? There are plenty of places begging you to join."
Go Chang-ho shook his head firmly.
"Children are the future."
"Yes, yes. Of course they are."
"There are no humanities in this country's education."
"Because it's not on the CSAT and it doesn't make money."
"Sigh... Is there truly no answer?"
"Ah, there's barely any kimchi in this. I should've bought the big one. Can I eat the rest of this?"
"No, absolutely not."
Go Chang-ho quickly dumped the remaining kimchi into his own ramen.
He blew on a mouthful of noodles, but as he did, something out of place caught his eye on the stairs of the building across the street.
"Hey. Has that kid been sitting there the whole time?"
"Who?"
"The one in the gray tracksuit."
"Oh... you're right. He was sitting there looking around earlier, and he's still there."
Go Chang-ho's brow furrowed.
His vibe was completely different from the busy children rushing around him.
He certainly didn't seem to be waiting to go to an academy.
Most of all, he didn't have a massive bag.
He was just clutching a small sling bag tightly to his chest.
Taking a bite of his ramen, Go Chang-ho quietly studied the boy's face.
The boy was observing the other children with an incredibly intrigued expression, tilting his head, and then furrowing his brow.
The child's expression was rather peculiar.
It was almost... mature?
Perhaps because of his small stature, the dissonance was even more pronounced.
"He looks about third grade, doesn't he?"
"Yeah, looks like it. He's cute."
Go Chang-ho stared at the boy, then shifted his gaze slightly.
There, he saw a man peeking out from the alleyway right next to the boy.
The man was massive and had a rather menacing look, and he was staring intently at the boy.
But it felt like he was secretly stalking him.
It was far too blatant.
In that instant, stories of criminals targeting elementary school students flashed through his mind.
"Hey. Look over there."
"What?"
"That alleyway over there."
Only then did Min-seok see what Chang-ho was looking at, and his brow furrowed as well.
His behavior was highly suspicious, to say the least.
Go Chang-ho set his chopsticks down and stood up abruptly.
"Ah, Senior. Let's just watch for a bit first..."
"Once something happens, it's too late."
Go Chang-ho dashed out of the convenience store.
"Excuse me! We'll be right back to clean this up!"
Yoo Min-seok quickly followed after Chang-ho.
"Oh, for crying out loud..."
The convenience store clerk scowled deeply and trudged over to the table where the two had been sitting.
"Excuse me. Hey there, what are you doing here?"
Go Chang-ho approached the boy with a warm, bright smile.
Since nothing had happened yet, the priority was to naturally move the boy to a different location.
If the man still followed them after that, he planned to call the police immediately.
The boy blinked his round eyes and looked up at Go Chang-ho.
Up close, he really was an adorable child.
"Who are you, mister?"
"Oh? I'm a teacher. An elementary school teacher."
"Ah..."
"You've been sitting here by yourself for a while. What are you doing?"
"Oh, am I not allowed to?"
"No, no. It's not that you're not allowed. It's just that it could be dangerous, or something bad might happen..."
The boy beamed.
"Ah, you don't have to worry."
Lowering his voice slightly, he added,
"There's someone secretly protecting me."
Chang-ho let out a soft sigh.
There's no way.
"Hey, how about we go to the convenience store over there? I'll buy you something delicious."
The boy furrowed his brow and shook his head.
"Hmm. I prefer sitting here."
"Why?"
"Because I can see the other kids' faces up close."
"...What?"
"I'm curious about what kids my age are thinking."
One of Chang-ho's eyebrows twitched.
For a child who looked to be in the third grade, or perhaps a small fourth grader, his way of speaking was far from ordinary.
His impression from the convenience store had been spot on.
Not only the boy's expression, but his manner of speech was remarkably mature.
He wanted to talk to him a bit more.
"And what do you see when you look at them?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but I think I'm starting to understand. I overheard some of their conversations."
The boy quietly watched the children pouring out of the yellow bus.
"They're studying against their will. They don't want to go, but they're being forced to."
"..."
"I think it's because they have to find the answers quickly. The process of reaching the answer is the fun part, though..."
"...Huh?"
"The moment you know the answer, the problem is over. The curiosity you felt leading up to the answer completely vanishes in that instant. Being curious is the fun part, but they don't get to enjoy that time."
"I-Is that so?"
The boy pouted slightly, then spoke again.
"Are they just learning how to find answers quickly without thinking? No wonder it's not fun."
Go Chang-ho's eyes widened instantly.
Min-seok, standing beside him, looked equally dumbfounded.
What this child had just articulated was the very core of the thesis Chang-ho was currently writing.
Before he knew it, Chang-ho grabbed the boy's shoulders.
How could a child this young think like this?
"Tell me more! Tell me more!"
"Huh?"
Chang-ho spoke, his voice trembling with excitement.
"The inheritance of extrinsic motivation! In other words, the mechanism by which the generation that received the answers structurally extinguishes the curiosity of the next generation..."
Just then, someone rushed over, grabbed Chang-ho's arm, and twisted it.
"Argh!"
Freed from Chang-ho's grasp, the boy jumped to his feet.
"Uncle!"
Chang-ho turned his head, his eyes wide with shock.
...Uncle?
It was the menacing-looking man from the alleyway.