Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The Breakthrough Begins
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“Thirty minutes?”
Yoo Seo-ha's face lit up with surprise.
Winter gave a faint smile, as if she'd expected as much.
When Winter had finished her performance, what she'd seen was Seo-ha with his eyes closed, completely immersed in the music.
At first, she'd been impressed that a classical music newbie was listening so intently to her playing.
But when five minutes passed and he still hadn't opened his eyes, she started to worry.
Was he feeling unwell somewhere? Or maybe her playing hadn't been good enough to provide the 'mental stability' he'd hoped for?
That was when Seo-ha had muttered in a voice so low it was barely audible.
"...Encoding the boundaries. Transition rules are local... four kinds... Ducky, I think I've got it."
Sensing something was off, Winter approached him and examined him closely.
His eyeballs darted ceaselessly beneath his closed lids. His right hand gripped an invisible pen, twitching endlessly as if scribbling something in the air.
Image training?
But why right now?
She'd been happy for him all by herself, worried all by herself...
Suddenly, she felt like a fool. But before that, another thought struck her first.
She had no idea what his words meant, but this might be a crucial moment for him.
Special inspirations don't come along every day.
She'd experienced something similar while playing music.
A famous German pianist had once told her during a lesson,
"The human brain can hardly distinguish between actual performance and imagined performance.
Just visualizing in your head improves your skills. You understand the flow of the piece better, and even your finger movements get smoother. Of course, this only works when you concentrate as intensely as in a real performance."
So she'd watched over him for thirty minutes.
"Yeah, you seemed lost in thought. Any results?"
For some reason, even her irritation had evaporated.
This kid's head must be completely filled with math right now.
When her own concours approached, she thought of nothing else but practicing. She didn't feel too shortchanged and decided to let it slide generously.
"Yeah, a huge breakthrough."
Seo-ha flashed a bright grin, baring his teeth.
Winter hesitated for a moment before pulling something from her bag.
"What's this?"
A CD in a clear case, covered in handwriting from a silver metallic pen.
[STUDIO Moon, Han Gyeo-ul Private Session]
- Stability track.
- Personal listening only. No external sharing.
"I've got a concours next month, so I'll be heading overseas. I recorded this just in case you might need it."
Winter hadn't forgotten that he'd wanted a recording of her playing.
Seo-ha took the CD, flustered at first, then seemed to steel himself.
"Han Gyeo-ul."
"Yeah?"
"I was a total bother today. I'm really sorry.
I've been agonizing over this one problem for over seven years. I desperately wanted to solve it, but I always hit a wall. Thanks to you today, the toughest part finally clicked."
Winter's eyes widened in astonishment.
"Seven years? Then how old were you whe—"
"What I'm trying to say is... thank you so much. I'll repay this favor someday."
Winter's lips curved into a small smile.
"Sure. Whatever it is, I hope you crack it soon."
"Once I do, you can ask me for anything. If it's something I can handle, I'll do my absolute best."
"For real? No take-backs?"
"Yeah."
Winter sent Seo-ha off first, since he seemed in a rush.
Then she opened the piano cover and played Debussy's Clair de Lune again.
The moment she pressed the pedal halfway and struck the first note, the tension in her stiff shoulders melted away. Earlier, that stifling feeling hadn't lifted even while playing—what had changed?
Now, she felt utterly free.
Seo-ha's steps quickened as he headed toward the dorms.
The night air felt refreshingly cool.
I need a proper setup.
He wanted to dive into research right away. But several concerns held him back.
First and foremost, he needed a space where no one would disturb him.
He planned to unleash Ducky fully for this project.
Home's out. Dorms even more so. A blackboard or whiteboard would be ideal. No telling how many days it'll take, so I need a place to wash up. Above all, somewhere people won't wander into.
He'd start Friday afternoon without fail.
Most students headed home then. He'd have at least two and a half days until Monday.
If he needed more time, he'd file for sick leave.
Back in his dorm, he played the CD Winter had given him.
Her performance filled the room with soft resonance.
Studio recordings really are on another level.
The sound quality was so pristine he could almost hear her breaths between notes.
Closing his eyes, it didn't match the live experience, but it definitely had a calming effect. Good enough as insurance for emergencies.
The next day, Seo-ha began scouting locations.
The communal seminar rooms were all booked.
Music rooms were out—too many pre-college students nearby.
Project rooms locked at night due to expensive equipment.
Nothing on campus? Guess I'll look off-site.
The study cafes near school wouldn't let in singles—too much accident risk.
Another bust.
Seo-ha leaned back against his bed and plugged in his earphones.
Track 1 — Clair de Lune.
He'd grown to love this piece.
He'd first heard it through Winter's playing, and since it had sparked his inspiration, it felt fresh every time. His breathing began to steady.
Then a place popped into his mind.
Oh! Professor Kim Ji-yoon's classroom.
It was a seminar room reserved for early college credit students—classes only Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Friday afternoon through the weekend would be wide open. Tucked in the corner of the hallway, hardly any foot traffic.
A massive blackboard up front, plus two mobile whiteboards. Narrow windows with double blinds—perfect for blocking outside views.
The back prep room even had a sink, like a proper lab. Plenty for basic washing.
And crucially, it was a place he could access.
With his early enrollment student card, he could tell the management center he was self-studying for a presentation and get approval.
With the location secured, urgency kicked in.
Still, I should get the professor's permission.
Of course, he wouldn't mention overnight stays—that was just for the management center.
Seo-ha contacted Professor Kim Ji-yoon the next day and asked for her help.
To his surprise, she readily approved weekend use when he mentioned he had research to do.
'I might stop by sometime?'
That comment nagged at him, but she only came to campus Tuesdays. He'd finish everything before then.
Now for supplies.
Thursday afternoon, Seo-ha dragged his oversized suitcase—usually for home trips—to the big supermarket.
No cafeteria meals on weekends, unfortunately.
He'd thought about what he'd need to survive three days.
A case of twenty 500ml waters. Ion drinks for sodium. Dried jujubes reminded him of home; he grabbed a pack with mixed nuts.
Room-temp chocolates and biscuits, a few instant porridges. Energy bars and protein bars for good measure.
This should do it.
At the checkout, the cashier eyed his suitcase and smirked.
"Heading on a trip?"
Seo-ha gave an awkward smile and mumbled something vague.
As he exited, the suitcase felt heavy.
No smells, no dishes, packed with nutrition.
Supplies secured!
He'd blown most of his allowance, but it was worth it.
He clenched his fist in a small victory pose.
For someone with almost no travel experience, this was his best shot.
Ding-dong-deng—
The Friday end-of-classes bell rang out.
The classroom buzzed with excitement in an instant.
"What're you up to this weekend?"
"Family gathering."
"You?"
"Lucky. I've got backlog homework."
The hallways teemed with students heading home.
Seo-ha waved them off cheerfully before heading to the management center.
The duty staff stared at his student ID, checked the Post-it on the desk, and nodded.
"Make sure to return it when you're done."
Seo-ha politely accepted the card key.
"Yes, sir!"
The sun dipped between buildings.
As students streamed out the main gate, Seo-ha turned toward his destination.
Beep—
The door slid open smoothly with the card key.
Unused since yesterday, the room carried a cool chill. Seo-ha first went to the windows and lowered all the blinds.
He rearranged the tables into a U-shape, set a single chair in the center, and laid out his prepared materials.
One by one, he unpacked books borrowed from the library. Finally, the over 100 notebooks remained.
Seo-ha gazed at them steadily, then picked up the top one.
Flip.
Pages filled with sticky notes here and there, alongside scribbled equations.
Looking back now, it was absurdly simplistic. Utterly one-dimensional reasoning.
Back then, he'd truly believed this would prove it.
[Four Color Theorem, I'll prove it myself!]
Childish handwriting.
Probably around age eight?
"Hoo... "
Seo-ha exhaled deeply.
It had started as simple curiosity.
How had a half-joking coloring game turned into an absolute must-achieve goal?
Every roadblock piled up more notebooks.
And with each failure, his knowledge grew.
Clap—
Seo-ha slapped both his cheeks.
No time for nostalgia.
He divided the notebooks into three stacks.
First: discard. Early attempts like area preservation hypotheses or angle sum tricks—purely one-dimensional, useless for proof.
Second: on hold. Ideas like adjacency indices or directionality metrics—might prove useful somewhere.
Third: prime candidates. Boundary pattern dictionary (draft), local rules list, parity invariant studies.
These were worth revisiting.
He pulled out chalk and positioned the two whiteboards to either side.
Plenty of paper too.
The box full of A3 sheets reassured him.
Setup complete, he built a supply station in the corner.
Water bottles, paper cups, CD player borrowed from the AV room, and all his food lined up on the table.
Finally, he texted home.
His mom, Mi-young, was disappointed about the weekend study plans at school, but since it had happened during exams too, she didn't make a fuss.
Gulp.
Tension surged suddenly.
What if it doesn't go as planned?
No helping it. Seo-ha was determined to wrap this up by weekend's end.
He closed his eyes and focused his mind.
One minute, two minutes passed.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
"Ducky, let's begin."