Chapter 4 - Education
Chapter 4 - Education
After Yoon Siwoo collapsed, the atmosphere inside the US government changed completely.
Before that, the adults had viewed Yoon Siwoo as an extraordinary child.
An eight-year-old child had accessed the US intelligence agency's peripheral network, understood English structurally in a short period, and reorganized an MIT professor's research problem on the spot.
Even then, they thought they could just categorize him as a "genius."
A special talent the state needed to protect, a child with dangerous potential—that was the extent of it.
However, after the hospital incident, that description became insufficient.
Yoon Siwoo wasn't just an exceptionally bright child; he was a being capable of thinking so much that his own body couldn't handle it.
Now there was only one problem: How to raise this child?
In a private conference room at a government facility in Virginia, officials from various agencies were seated.
FBI Counterintelligence Division Deputy Director Michael Hayes, NSA Cyber Security Chief Alan Brooks, Department of Education Special Advisor Helen Parker, MIT faculty representative Jonathan Reed, and Ethan Lowell, who had first discovered Yoon Siwoo.
Yoon Siwoo's data was displayed on the screen.
-YOON SIWOO
-Age 8
-Status Protected Minor
-Cognitive Status Unclassified
Michael looked at the screen and said in a low voice.
"Unclassified, huh..."
Alan replied.
"It cannot be explained by existing standards."
"Does that mean IQ scores are meaningless too?"
"Yes. Problem-solving speed, pattern recognition, understanding of cryptographic structures—all of it requires separate criteria."
Helen Parker furrowed her brow.
"You shouldn't talk about it only in those terms."
Alan looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"That child is still eight years old."
The conference room went quiet, and Helen was calm, but her voice was firm.
"Everyone here keeps calling Yoon Siwoo a national asset, a variable, a risk factor. But legally, ethically, and realistically, he is a young child."
Michael crossed his arms.
"We know that."
"Do you?"
Helen immediately retorted.
"If so, why is all the data focused on his abilities? Why are eating habits, sleep patterns, emotional stability, and peer relationships relegated to the appendix?"
Alan shut his mouth, and Ethan didn't say anything either.
It was an uncomfortable statement, but it wasn't wrong.
Michael was silent for a moment before speaking.
"Because the threat is real."
"Is that child the threat? Or is the world targeting that child the threat?"
This time, no one could answer immediately.
Then Jonathan Reed quietly opened his mouth.
"I partially agree with Dr. Parker's opinion."
He placed the problem sheet Siwoo had solved on the desk.
"If this child enters the general education system, there is a high possibility he will be broken. But conversely, if he is locked away in a lab, he will also be broken."
Michael asked.
"The alternative?"
"A customized educational curriculum is needed."
"MIT enrollment?"
"Not yet."
Several officials looked surprised.
Because they thought that as an MIT professor, he would naturally want to take Siwoo.
Jonathan read their expressions and smiled bitterly.
"To be honest, I want to bring that child to MIT. It would be a lie to say I don't have the ambition as a scholar."
He looked down at the paper with Siwoo's solutions written on it.
"But the MIT campus right now is not a place for an eight-year-old child to live."
"Campus security can be strengthened."
"It's not a security issue."
Jonathan's voice lowered.
"College students are adults. There is competition, jealousy, and the media. If we just put Yoon Siwoo there, we aren't raising a genius; we're turning him into a spectacle."
Helen nodded slightly, and Ethan quietly agreed.
He recalled the face of Siwoo he had first seen in Busan.
The child who had poked his head through the door crack and asked if there were aliens—that child was now at the center of a massive conference room.
Michael tapped the desk with his finger.
"Alright, let's reach a conclusion. General school?"
Helen answered immediately.
"Impossible."
"Official MIT enrollment?"
Jonathan shook his head.
"Premature."
"Then?"
"Home-based customized curriculum, participation of some MIT faculty, assignment of a private tutor, psychological counseling, physical fitness management, and a separately designed peer interaction program."
"Is peer interaction even necessary?"
Helen's gaze turned cold.
"It is necessary."
"It increases security risks."
"Are you going to keep the child locked up only among adults, then?"
Alan couldn't answer, and Ethan said quietly.
"Do you know what the first thing that child said in the hospital room yesterday was?"
"What was it?"
"He said he had thought too much."
"..."
"The child's face when explaining that wasn't a scared face. It was a face analyzing himself."
Helen said quietly.
"That's why it's even more dangerous."
"He is a child for whom curiosity comes before pain."
No one could refute that.
That evening, the results of the government meeting were conveyed to the family, and Ethan Lowell and educational advisor Helen Parker visited their home.
Hyejin brought out tea with a nervous expression, and Taesik sat at the dining table, looking at the two people.
Taesik asked first.
"So, what will happen to our Siwoo?"
Helen said cautiously.
"It has been decided that he will not be sent to a general school for the time being."
Hyejin's expression stiffened.
"...He's not going to school?"
Siwoo also lifted his head, and Helen hurriedly added.
"It doesn't mean he won't be educated; a customized curriculum will be prepared. Some MIT faculty will participate, and a private tutor and research mentor will be assigned."
Taesik tried to understand, but his expression was dark.
"Then what about friends?"
The room went quiet, and Helen was speechless for a moment.
That question had come up in the meeting too, but there was no clear answer.
"We will also find a way for him to interact with his peers."
Taesik's voice lowered.
"It's not about finding a way; it's necessary."
Hyejin looked at Taesik.
"I know our son is smart. I know he's amazing. But isn't he still a child?"
Helen didn't say anything, and Taesik continued.
"A child needs friends. He needs to play, he needs to fight, and he needs to do stupid things."
Ethan looked at Taesik quietly.
A factory worker from Busan, a man who was poor at English and didn't know the American system, but he was saying the most accurate thing in this room.
What Yoon Siwoo needed wasn't just a research environment.
Siwoo was clenching his hands tightly under the table.
He felt various emotions while listening to his father's words.
Gratitude, apology, sadness—because of him, his parents kept hearing difficult things.
General school is impossible, customized education is needed, protection is needed, dangerous, special—those words kept continuing, but there was only one thing Siwoo really wanted to ask.
"Can't I go to school?"
Hyejin looked at her son, and Helen answered slowly.
"I think it's difficult right now."
"Why?"
"Because you learn too quickly."
Siwoo had a face that didn't understand.
"Is it bad to learn quickly?"
Helen found it difficult to answer.
A moment later, Ethan continued instead.
"It's not bad."
He made eye contact with Siwoo.
"It just means it's difficult to go at the same speed as other children."
"Then will I keep being with adults?"
No one could answer that question immediately.
That night, Siwoo sat at his desk in his room, and a new educational plan was placed on the desk.
-Mathematics
-Computer Science
-Physics
-Language
-Psychological Counseling
-Physical Fitness Management
Everything was meticulously arranged, and it was a perfect schedule, but he didn't like it.
A few days later, the customized curriculum began.
The first class was mathematics, and Andrew Miller, a young professor dispatched from MIT, sat in front of Siwoo.
He tried to smile as kindly as possible.
"Siwoo, today, let's start with linear algebra concepts..."
Siwoo said quietly.
"I know that."
Andrew paused for a moment.
"How far?"
Siwoo wrote a few lines on a paper, and Andrew became speechless after seeing it.
It was not an introduction to linear algebra, but content connected to advanced numerical analysis.
"Then, differential equations?"
"Which kind?"
"What do you mean, 'which kind'?"
"Ordinary, partial, non-linear, stochastic differential..."
Andrew blinked.
Within 5 minutes of the class starting, he felt like he wasn't there to teach but was being tested, but Siwoo wasn't doing it on purpose; he was just stating what he knew.
Andrew eventually closed his notebook.
"Alright, then today, let's talk about what you're curious about."
At those words, Siwoo's eyes brightened a little.
"Really?"
"Yes."
Siwoo asked immediately.
"Why do people keep using inefficient methods even when they know they are inefficient?"
Andrew hesitated.
"...In mathematics?"
"No, everything."
That question completely changed the direction of the first class.
The math class soon became a discussion about human society, institutional inertia, fear, and groupthink, and after the class ended, Andrew said to Ethan in the hallway.
"...That child isn't trying to learn math."
"Then?"
Andrew smiled with a tired face.
"He is asking why the world is shaped the way it is."
That evening, Siwoo looked a little happy for the first time in a while, and seeing that, Hyejin asked.
"Was the class fun?"
"Yes."
"Did you like the teacher?"
"Yes. He told me when he didn't know something."
Hyejin laughed at that.
"You like that?"
"Yes. It's better than people who pretend to know things they don't."
Taesik said while eating, laughing.
"That's true."
At 9 PM, an emergency contact came in for Ethan Lowell.
His expression stiffened, and William also checked the radio transmission content at the same time.
Hyejin asked with an anxious face.
"What's going on?"
Ethan hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"An attempt to find information about our current movements from the outside has been detected."
"We haven't confirmed yet if they are searching because our movements are suspicious or if they are curious about Siwoo."
Taesik's face stiffened.
"Who?"
Ethan didn't avoid the answer.
"There is a possibility it's a foreign intelligence agency."
The air in the room turned cold, and Siwoo quietly looked at the adults.
For the first time, it felt a little real. Someone might be looking for him, and perhaps they might even try to take him away.
That night, security around the house was strengthened.
FBI vehicles doubled, and the NSA completely isolated the house's internal network.
Taesik and Hyejin couldn't fall asleep, and it was the same for Siwoo.
Siwoo lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.
The room was quiet, but outside the window, the sound of vehicle engines and radio transmissions could be heard faintly.
Siwoo was realizing it little by little.
That his life might never be able to be ordinary.