Translator: Dreamscribe
Late afternoon, Whitman's office.
Alan gazed at the books lined up on the shelf, as if lost in nostalgia. On the table, an old clock ticked away, announcing the passage of ti.
Tak.
“Drink up.”
Whitman placed two teacups down and sat on the sofa.
“Thank you.”
Alan smiled and lifted his cup.
Sssup.
"I missed this coffee, strong as poison. Back then, I drank it just to survive."
"It's been like this since I was an undergraduate. There are many things here that remain the sa even as ti passes."
“I’ve changed a lot. I used to loudly proclaim I’d change the world, but these days, I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life.”
Whitman looked at Alan with a hint of reproach.
“It is always humans who change. Truth always remains in its place.”
A silence fell between them.
Eventually, Alan couldn’t hold back and brought up the topic first.
“He’s quite an exceptional student.”
At that mont, the stern expression Whitman had worn the entire ti brightened.
“He’s the reason I can’t retire.”
He took a sip of his coffee and continued.
“When I was young, my ntor was Professor Noam Keller.”
“You an the sa Professor Keller who worked with Richard Feynman?”
He was a well-known figure in the mathematics world whose na Alan had also heard.
“Yes, he was the one who provided the mathematical foundation for Feynman’s theory when Feynman was organizing quantum electrodynamics.
When I was a graduate student, Professor Keller used to say the sa thing over and over.”
“What was it?”
“Mathematics is the language of endless succession.”
Alan nodded.
“That makes sense. From Pythagoras to Euclid, and Euler...
Mathematicians may very well live in their own world, beyond nationalities. Sharing a language of their own.”
Perhaps they were, in fact, mbers of a secret society that transcended race, nationality, and even ti.
Whitman laughed heartily.
“Exactly as you said.
But in the history of this kingdom, very rarely, perhaps once in a few hundred years, a person is born who explosively advances mathematics.”
Before he knew it, Alan had been drawn into Whitman's story.
“Who would that be?”
“Just as Pythagoras explained the world through numbers, Newton interpreted the universe through calculus. Gauss created the language of curved surfaces, and Gödel proved the limits of human reason through formulas.
What do you think they all had in common?”
They were all mathematicians from different eras.
If there was a commonality, there would be only one.
“They were unimaginably brilliant geniuses?”
At Alan’s answer, Whitman shook his head.
“They weren’t the ones who established new axioms. They were simply the first to see the rules of a language that the world was already using.”
“Ah…”
He too had once questioned it.
How could geniuses always be ahead of the world? They always realized the truth before anyone else could reach it.
“Perhaps Seo-ha also has that kind of intuition. That’s my personal assumption. You could call him the prodigy of mathematics. Or in your words, the legitimate heir of our world.
That’s why I still can’t retire. I need to pass on everything I have. Just as my ntor did for .”
Alan lowered his head.
He had once been within that sa boundary, but now the fact that he was an outsider made him feel lonely.
“I envy you. I wanted to live like that too.”
To Alan, the lives of those who left the mundane world behind to freely pursue truth seed dazzling.
“What are you talking about?”
“Sorry?”
“Aren’t you also a rightful resident of this world?”
Alan let out a hearty laugh.
“Even a governnt official like ? These days, I see more budget plans than equations. I think I’ve grown too old to chase ideals.”
"Are you saying that in front of ?"
“Ah… no. That was a slip of the tongue.”
Whitman looked at Alan with deep eyes. It was the sa gaze he used to guide him with during his graduate years.
“Listen. Mathematicians must always be those who pursue ideals to the very end.”
“Why is that?”
At Alan's question, Whitman replied in a firm tone.
“Because otherwise, no one in this world would pursue the truth. Do you truly wish to live in such a world?”
In his youth, he had believed that truth would move the world. That belief had not changed even now...
“I’m glad I ca here today. Thanks to you, I now know the direction I need to take.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
“May I take a copy of that paper with ?”
“There’s no need. I just uploaded it to the archive, so it should be publicly available by tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Then, I’ll see you again next ti.”
As he stepped outside the building, the sunset had already dyed the campus building walls in red.
Alan’s footsteps ca to a halt.
‘Still, I should say thank you before I go.’
Alan headed to the cafeteria where the students had gathered after their presentation.
As he walked inside, he saw three students slumped over at a table in the corner by the window.
Seo-ha, Eleanor, Jason.
All of them had their heads buried on the desk, fast asleep without the slightest movent.
“Heh heh...”
A smile spread across Alan’s lips.
He looked once more at the sleeping students, then quietly turned around and walked toward the door, careful not to wake them.
***
The next day,
After work, Alan stayed alone in his empty office.
On the monitor was a paper that had been published early that morning.
He slowly scrolled with the mouse.
Alan keenly realized how much he had neglected his studies lately.
The language he should naturally understand was becoming increasingly difficult to grasp.
‘This is insane.’
The paper was not just a simple study on signal optimization.
It was an attempt to interpret the urban traffic system as a phase space of ti.
Through mathematical structures, Seo-ha was analyzing the interaction between human movent patterns and signals.
In the paper, there was a formula that reduced the city's decision-making process into a single function.
People’s commuting patterns, taxi route selections, pedestrian right-of-way, ergency vehicle priorities, everything was interconnected.
He took out a notebook and pen to follow the formulas. But his pen stopped midway.
‘I can’t even understand an undergraduate’s paper...’
A wave of self-doubt hit him.
Alan stared at the monitor for a while, then got up from his seat.
Step, step.
His steps stopped at a bookshelf in one corner of the office.
Books and papers covered in dust. Half-filled notebooks still bore the handwriting of his younger days.
"I never thought I'd take these out again."
Even Alan himself laughed in disbelief.
Each and every line of the formulas in the paper pricked at his pride.
He gripped his pen and began to follow the calculations again.
At first, his mind didn’t work very well.
‘Has mathematics advanced this much already?’
The formulas in the paper had long surpassed the scope of analysis he had learned in his youth.
But for the first ti in a while, he felt joy in studying.
‘If the phase shifts over ti and signal interference is modulated into waves...’
He brought over a board from the next office and drew a large circle. Then he began drawing the city’s roads.
His hand regained its touch.
It felt as if circuits long neglected in his mind were being reactivated.
‘Yes, phase alignnt is ultimately an eigenvalue problem. It’s about correcting nonlinear deviations over ti...’
He let out an exclamation.
‘And this was done by an undergraduate?’
Alan shook his head.
How many mathematicians had produced monuntal proofs in their youth? He decided Seo-ha belonged to that sa category of humans.
‘So I mustn’t feel ashad.’
As he continued working through the formulas, his sense gradually returned.
He beca convinced that this algorithm could be applied to Boston’s traffic situation.
Papers began to pile up on his desk one by one.
There were too many prerequisites needed just to read Seo-ha’s theory.
After brewing coffee several tis,
By the ti he was halfway through the paper, dawn had already broken outside.
‘Tis like this, it’s nice not being married.’
No one to call him, no place to be.
His parents had passed away, and it had been years since he last contacted his estranged siblings.
As he was reading the paper, his eyes stopped at one point.
‘Self-referential phase variable?’
It was too complex.
Though he had intended to figure it out on his own, too many years had passed since he last held a book.
The paper included a contact number.
Without hesitation, he sent a text.
–Yu Seo-ha? This is Alan from the Transportation Bureau. I have a few questions about your paper. Would you happen to have so ti?
He had planned to take a short nap, but a reply ca right away.
-Have you had lunch yet?
"Huh? Why suddenly asking about food?"
–I stayed up all night reading your paper, so not yet. I was just thinking of grabbing a sandwich or sothing.
-My parents are asking if you haven't had lunch yet, you should co to our house. They're saying we can just study at ho....
Alan blinked.
In Arica, inviting soone you've just exchanged ssages with for the first ti almost never happens.
Safety, personal space...
There are many reasons, but perhaps it’s just because it’s awkward.
Of course, Chul-ho and Mi-young didn’t think that deeply.
There had been no small number of adults visiting Seo-ha since he was young, and each ti, they rembered offering them als.
–Thank you for the invitation. I’ll be on my way shortly.
Alan hesitated for a mont, then nodded.
He could feel warm goodwill in the seemingly casual invitation.
‘How long has it been since I was invited to a al like this?’
Alan quickly changed clothes and stopped by a liquor store to buy two decent bottles of wine.
The address Seo-ha sent wasn’t far from the school.
Ding dong-
When he rang the bell, the door opened.
“Welco!”
The boy he had seen at school greeted him brightly.
He had worried whether he had responded to a polite invitation in a clueless manner, but that concern turned out to be unfounded.
Behind Seo-ha, a young girl was hiding.
“Hello, little princess?”
From behind her back, a beaver doll suddenly peeked out. Then, the little girl shyly revealed herself.
She looked like a child straight out of a drama, adorable.
“Hello.”
Alan tried his best to wear a kind expression.
It was a facial muscle he hadn’t used in a while, so it didn’t co out very naturally.
“That’s a cool doll.”
When he complinted the doll, Seo-eun’s face imdiately lit up.
“His na is Justin. My oppa gave him to .”
“Please, co this way, Mr. Smith.”
Out in the backyard, lunch preparations were in full swing. Alan and the couple exchanged a polite nod.
Sizzle, sizzle.
The savory aroma was already spreading over the table.
On the grill, glossy slices of pork belly were cooking with a delicious sound.
Beside it, hogrown lettuce, perilla leaves, peppers, and various vegetables he couldn't na were neatly arranged.
Gulp.
Hunger suddenly hit him.
Alan rembered that he hadn’t eaten a thing since last night.
How many people in Arica have experienced authentic Korean-style BBQ?
The initial awkwardness quickly vanished in front of the food.
Chul-ho flipped the at with tongs and spoke in slightly awkward English.
“Just follow what we do, and you’ll be fine.”
“Thank you for the invitation. The sll is absolutely amazing.”
Alan hurriedly sat down.
Then, following their lead, he began to eat.
Mi-young demonstrated first.
She placed a thick slice of pork belly on a large lettuce leaf.
Then she added so ssamjang, a bit of green onion salad, a sliver of garlic, and so rice, wrapped it all up, and it was done.
Alan watched her and made the sa wrap, putting it in his mouth.
“Oh!”
An exclamation ca out naturally.
The at juices that burst out with each bite and the spicy seasoning's aroma.
The combination of at and vegetables filling his mouth was utterly satisfying.
“Delicious, right?”
Seo-ha asked with a smile.
“This is the best al I’ve had in years.”
Alan gave the couple a thumbs-up.
He was so captivated by the food he couldn’t even maintain his usual composure. He ate and ate again. Even the doenjang jjigae served in an earthenware pot, after glancing at the others, he scooped it without hesitation and mixed it with his rice.
The generous amount of at they had prepared was gone in an instant.
"Wow! This guy really knows how to eat."
"I know, right. It's worth the effort since he's eating so well."
Chul-ho took out so liquor from the fridge and poured it into a glass. Alan took a cautious sip, and apparently liking it, downed the rest in one go.
Mi-young was frying kimchi pancakes beside them.
As they passed the sweet and tangy makgeolli back and forth with the kimchi pancakes, the n had sohow beco friends.
A warm emotion began to rise in Alan’s chest.
It had been so long since soone had shown him such genuine kindness.
“Oppa, why did that ajusshi co to our house?”
Seo-eun asked, blowing on the hot pancake.
"I don't know, he must have been really hungry."
Seo-eun nodded.
“Hahaha!”
Surrounded by the warm aroma, the sound of laughter, and the kindness of people he had just t, Alan laughed out loud for the first ti in a long while.
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