Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: The Completed Algorithm
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Early in the morning, with the chill still lingering in the air, the corridor felt cold.
Click-clack.
The sharp sounds of multiple pairs of shoes echoed through the hallway.
Alan led the way at the front, the hem of his heavy coat brushing against his legs.
Behind him, Lisa, Michael, and the other researchers followed in hushed silence.
At the end of the corridor, a nameplate came into view.
Beep.
Alan swiped his card, and the door slid open.
He stepped inside cautiously.
“Hm?”
From the darkened lab came the faint sound of a piano,
a poignant melody that seemed to soothe the soul.
Click.
The lights flicked on, revealing the scene inside.
“Holy shit!”
“Ah...”
“What the hell...”
Everyone's jaws dropped as they looked around.
The three walls of the lab were completely covered in massive equations welcoming them.
Written densely in white chalk, complex lines and symbols intertwined to form a colossal algorithm.
“Incredible.”
To Alan's eyes, it didn't look like human language at all—it resembled a living, breathing circuit pulsing on its own.
Handel's Passacaglia resounded majestically.
Chalk dust slowly floated up, reflecting the fluorescent lights like white snow drifting from the sky.
In this surreal sight, everyone forgot the purpose of their visit.
Whirr-
The workstation on the desk hummed as a simulation ran.
A log window was displayed on the screen.
“Over there.”
Someone whispered, pointing to one side.
Yoo Seo-ha was quietly asleep on the sofa in the corner.
His hands were covered in white chalk dust from hours of intense work.
“Seo-ha...”
“Shh!”
As Lisa moved to wake him, Alan pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing for silence.
He looked like he'd collapsed onto the sofa after focusing for so long.
No one wanted to disturb him, so the room stayed silent.
Lisa's gaze slowly shifted.
From Seo-ha's chalk-dusted fingertips, to the equations filling the whiteboard, and back to the monitor screen showing the completed simulation.
His sleeping face looked so peaceful.
Swish.
Alan slipped off his coat and draped it over Seo-ha's body.
“Let's leave him be for now.”
Everyone nodded.
His hands covered in white chalk, his face smiling contentedly in sleep, and the perfect equations he'd left on the board.
A strange emotion welled up in Alan's chest.
Pride, mingled with guilt.
'I've put too much on your shoulders.'
Before the pressure of time and budget hit, Seo-ha had probably intended to collaborate.
Just like with that group project paper.
But circumstances wouldn't let him.
'Unbelievable. With all this talent gathered here, not a single one could match your thoughts.'
Alan wondered if Seo-ha was profoundly lonely.
MIT Media Lab E14.
It was evening, but no one on the project team thought of going home.
Everything had changed overnight.
The equations from the whiteboard had been scanned with a high-res camera and projected onto a large screen.
The researchers sat around the monitors, analyzing the structure of the algorithm Seo-ha had left behind.
Lisa pointed at the screen with her finger.
“Look here. This is different from the structure we've been using. It's hierarchical, right?”
“Hierarchical?”
Michael frowned and zoomed in on the screen.
“It looks like a mathematical expression of a neural network... but not a standard neural net. Each layer has different rules.”
Lisa nodded.
“Exactly. Each layer operates on different timescales and scales. One layer in seconds, another in microseconds. Completely nonlinear.”
“Is that even possible?”
Someone muttered.
“See?”
Lisa tapped the keyboard to expand part of the equation.
“This isn't the usual Fourier transform-based time domain (signal over time). It self-synchronizes inherently.
Seo-ha probably saw the previous errors as issues from hardware limitations in parallel simultaneous computation and dragged the entire concept of time into the computation itself.”
A hush fell over the room.
They tried to grasp the equations, but the structure didn't click all at once. After staring at the screen for a while, the researchers grumbled.
“Am I too old for this? Can't keep up anymore.”
“We should name this algorithm. It's like math from another dimension.”
“MIT didn't give him the lab for nothing.”
Lisa continued.
“What's amazing is how stable it is.
Normally, structures this complex collapse at the slightest error, but this one absorbs them in real-time and stabilizes itself.”
She pointed to the workstation running the simulation.
The graph on the monitor moved with astonishing smoothness. The data curves that used to jitter like vibrations during incidents now rose steadily without a single waver.
“CPU load at 48 percent?”
Michael peered at the screen in disbelief. The load that had exceeded 80 percent and neared 90 was now nearly halved.
“Same dataset, and this performance?”
“Clock sync is perfect too. Before, parallel processing lagged by 0.03 seconds each time, but now the deviation is over 100 times smaller.
It seems he accounted for hardware-induced delays from the design stage.”
The researchers huddled to check the logs.
'I thought there was no room for improvement before...'
It was a world-shaking change. Everyone was stunned that he'd achieved this in just two days.
Alan, who'd been listening quietly, nodded.
“Let's run the full verification set on this as the final version.”
““Yes!””
Their voices rang out energetically.
With completion in sight, the lab buzzed with energy.
The cursor blinked on the monitor as the command was entered.
Moments later, a roar emanated from the workstation.
Whirrrrr-
Lisa hit enter, and dozens of simulation windows opened simultaneously.
“12,000 test cases loaded. Full-range verification starting now.”
Alan made eye contact with everyone in the lab.
“We're entering emergency mode for the next 24 hours of testing.
Back up all logs every 10 seconds. Report errors immediately. No operations except manual stop.”
This was the final phase. Tension etched every face.
““Yes!””
Michael chuckled.
“Guess we're pulling an all-nighter.”
It was familiar territory for the researchers.
“This is mild.”
“I've done a week straight.”
“It's not the work. It's the lack of results that hurts.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Expectations are higher this time, though. Can't imagine how much this city will change.”
“Hey! It's still testing. Don't jinx it!”
“Who handles maintenance, anyway?”
The last comment silenced the room.
A single error from mishandling could spell city-wide disaster.
Did City Hall even have anyone who could manage an algorithm this complex?
“Just contract the designer directly. Problem solved.”
Alan shot back.
“Yeah, have Seo-ha write the manual or train staff.”
“Make him an advisory board member.”
Alan pondered ways the city could properly compensate Seo-ha for his contributions.
This was one idea he'd come up with.
As long as Boston used his system, he'd receive compensation like a pension.
Yoo Seo-ha woke in the evening.
'Hm?'
Something felt familiar, and a chill ran up his spine.
'Please not the hospital again...'
He cracked his eyes open and glanced around. It was the lab.
'Phew. Safe.'
This time, Seo-ha had taken extra care to avoid accidents.
With so many dedicated researchers here pouring their all into work, calorie management was easy. Stuffing himself with chocolate bars and high-calorie drinks, plus getting proper rest, prevented repeats of before.
'Sleep was a bit short, though...'
He'd napped intermittently to avoid collapsing, but tension must have released after finishing the algorithm.
Swish.
As he sat up, a familiar face came into view.
“Ellie?”
Eleanor looked up from her book.
“You're awake. The doctor stopped by. Said it was just sleep from fatigue buildup.”
Seo-ha scratched his head sheepishly.
“I don't feel sick at all.”
Ellie made a pained expression.
“I knew you were pushing yourself. Not just me—everyone did.”
“Huh?”
“But we couldn't bring ourselves to stop you.
The project was on the brink of cancellation without funding, and the algorithm was desperate. I'm just an assistant, but maybe they all saw you as the project's last hope?”
'It wasn't that hard.'
Another misunderstanding. Seo-ha bowed his head.
“Sorry for worrying you.”
Ellie shook her head.
“No, this is my reflection. I saw you working alone at dawn. Wanted to jump in like a team project, but didn't know how.
I can't even fully understand the algorithm you made.”
Ellie kept her head down, silent for a long time.
Fiddling with her book, she finally spoke softly.
“At first, I was thrilled to join this project.
But all I did was organize data or take minutes. Oh, and book equipment or set up meeting rooms.”
She gave a self-deprecating smile.
“I know. That's what assistants do. But seeing everyone rely only on you made me frustrated—overstepping, maybe.”
“N-no, that's not...”
Seo-ha floundered for comforting words.
“I wanted to say I'll be a real team member next time, not just the copier guy. Let other assistants handle coffee.”
She clenched her fist playfully, full of resolve.
“Anyway, I'll head out.”
Ellie waved with a smile.
“Yeah! Thanks. And you said you did nothing, but you helped me a ton. I couldn't have finished the initial algorithm without you.”
Her eyes widened at the unexpected words.
“Hahaha.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Embarrassed, she hurried out.
After walking a bit, she spotted a vending machine.
Her hand trembled as she reached for coffee.
Thud!
Ellie slammed her forehead against it in self-reproach.
Thud.
Thud.
The cold metal cleared her mind each time it met her brow.
A world of math where black and white, right and wrong, were crystal clear.
That's why she knew so starkly, cruelly.
“Why am I so stupid?”
She'd set aside everything else to understand Seo-ha's algorithm.
But some walls couldn't be overcome by will alone.
Ellie pulled a notebook from her pocket.
The edges were already worn and discolored. Every page was filled with equations she couldn't grasp.
Scrape.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and walked off to find a place to study.