Season 3: Chapter 176: Pandora’s Hope (2)
What on earth was she going to say? Doctor Song Ha-Na often seemed to work haphazardly and suddenly apologized, which made Sang-Hyeon anxious.
With so many things on his mind, a flood of possibilities raced through his head. He even resented his brain for working so frenetically at times like this.
However, what Song Ha-Na wanted to convey was completely unrelated to what Sang-Hyeon was worrying about.
“I feel like I’ve made several mistakes in my speech.”
Mistakes in her speech? Sang-Hyeon tilted his head without realizing it.
‘What is she talking about?’
He looked her up and down.
‘Is she reading notes?’
Her speech seemed a bit slowed, and she kept pulling out a piece of paper to look at. It was probably a memo she wrote for today’s talk. She didn’t usually stutter or struggle with speaking. If anything, she talked too much.
The fact that she was reading from notes indicated the importance of this apology. It wasn’t about the research results.
“I was too excited about the research results... and, without considering the current situation, I spoke overly optimistically and gave you a lot of hope... not understanding what that would mean to you.”
She had given them false hope due to her excitement about the research results without realizing that it could hurt them.
“As I mentioned before... I am not primarily a doctor who deals with patients, but more of a research director...”
It was already clear that she wasn’t a typical doctor.
‘Does she think I didn’t come because of her hopeful remarks?’
To be exact, Sang-Hyeon didn’t feel hurt by her words. He just hated confronting the situation and his memories every time he went to the hospital. He didn’t want to harbor any false hope. In the past, false hope had led him to irrevocable disaster.
“I’m telling you this in hopes that acknowledging these issues might make you feel better. I’ll also try harder. I’m sorry.”
Sang-Hyeon nodded and accepted her apology.
“That’s not why I didn’t come, but... I understand.”
His eyes naturally turned to Choi Sa-Rang. She nodded slightly as if accepting the apology as well. However, it felt like Song Ha-Na and Choi Sa-Rang had already talked about it and the apology was only directed at Sang-Hyeon.
Did Song Ha-Na’s sudden apology have to do with Choi Sa-Rang? He didn’t know.
“But I have been diligently progressing with the research.” Song Ha-Na put away her memo and added, “So please come to the hospital.”
She finally brought up the main topic.
“What I’m going to tell you today is related to this research.”
She cleared her throat and looked at the man next to her.
The man pulled out a thin tablet and began to operate it, intending to show something.
[Wave-Modulated Graphic Implementation]
The terms sounded technical, but Sang-Hyeon felt a sense of familiarity.
“The wave-modulated method is how the capsule creates graphics for gamers. It involves interfering with brain waves to create images within the brain, which then collide...”
Hearing her explanation helped him recall such information.
“There was a good hypothesis,” the woman sitting next to Sang-Hyeon spoke, “There was a hypothesis that my neural degeneration might improve.”
Sa-Rang had watched a new game demonstration with a mixture of a bitter smile and excitement.
“Well, it’s like alchemy.”
She said the hypothesis had failed, but also mentioned something else.
“It hasn’t been tested in a large-scale online game like this.”
The wave-modulated method wasn’t particularly suitable for online games. In extreme terms, it was like having each gamer visualize the game graphics individually. This made it difficult to ensure that interactions with other players occurred as intended by the developers. It would feel like playing a tactical RPG game with multiple people creating their own rules together.
However, a moderator existed to fix that. An AI-based system would play that role and make it much easier than the previous example, but it would still be challenging with thousands or tens of thousands of participants.
Nonetheless, some developers insisted on this method and one game had recently created a large-scale online game using it. That game was...
“Legend Tale. This game.”
The doctor showed the game in the demonstration video.
Legend Tale was an RPG game made by the creators of LIL.
‘I didn’t hear a word.’
Only then did Sang-Hyeon realize that he hadn’t listened to a single word from the doctor, but he remained quiet.
“To be straightforward, we want you to try this game.”
Sang-Hyeon stared at the production video for Legend Tale.
‘They want me to play that game?’
Sang-Hyeon had never tried an online RPG game before. Putting that aside, they wanted him to play a game after telling him to moderate his gaming time? Now they wanted him to play?
‘What is this?’
Sang-Hyeon sensed a significant turning point.
Song Ha-Na’s expertise was unquestionable. Every renowned capsule company wanted her as a technical advisor. She had even been involved in creating Sang-Hyeon’s custom capsule. For her to change her opinion so drastically...
‘Something’s up.’
A significant reason had to exist. Something major was happening.
He glanced at Sa-Rang beside him. Even if he didn’t understand, Choi Sa-Rang probably did. She was intently focused on the doctor more than ever before.
“It might sound strange to ask you to play a game. Ideally, we’d create such stimuli ourselves, but...”
The doctor made a round gesture and scratched her head. It was a financial issue.
“To do that would require astronomical funds. We don’t have that kind of budget, and since someone else has already made it, why not use it? Also...”
She displayed some more data.
“No matter how we think about it, the key is having other users in this environment. If we create our own model and experiment, we might not get the desired results. We’d only gather data equivalent to Zombie School’s single-player version.”
Zombie School? She probably mentioned Zombie School earlier when he was distracted.
“Remember Zombie School? When the SKED levels stayed stable without worsening...”
The doctor looked at Sang-Hyeon like a professor observing a distracted student as if she noticed his lack of attention.
“Ah... yes.”
He recalled that the deterioration slowed and stopped at some point, but the cause was unknown.
“We have the results now. It’s because of the wave-modulated method. In Zombie School, you experienced extreme wave modulation when entering a new map or environment. You had to create a new world.”
She displayed more data. Honestly, Sang-Hyeon didn’t understand any of it. However, the brain diagrams sparked a bit of his interest.
“Do you remember? The results didn’t show the second time you played. It was just like any other game.”
“!?”
What? Sang-Hyeon flinched at this point.
“Why? Because once the space is created, the existing data is used. There’s no longer any wave modulation.”
Sang-Hyeon remembered that sensation. He had retained that minor feeling all this time, and it suddenly came back to him. He felt an indescribably strange stimulus when he first entered Zombie School and entered a completely new space, but he didn’t feel it the second time.
That was the difference.
“It’s a form of optimization. Do you think about walking when you walk? Do you consider each step?”
No, of course not. Walking was just walking.
“Walking, especially on varied terrain, is incredibly challenging. Robots still can’t walk like humans, but we do it as easily as breathing. This is the brain’s optimization. It’s the remarkable ability of the human brain.”
Neuroplasticity allowed the brain to adapt to any environment. When learning a language, all parts of the brain optimally focused on the language. Once optimized, the brain developed further for new tasks.
This seemed like a good thing, right? Not always.
“Optimization is the brain’s greatest weapon, but it’s also an enemy. Our brains are already discarding unusable parts and reallocating them to other tasks. This is called neuroplasticity, but it’s not always beneficial.”
Once optimized, the brain avoided altering the set algorithm after completing a task.
Just as it would be difficult to change one’s walking style or learn a new language later in life, Sang-Hyeon and Sa-Rang’s brains had optimized for their lost neural areas. If left unchecked, the remaining nerves could continue to die.
The completed algorithm needed to be dismantled and modified. However, the brain, confident in its optimization, wouldn’t allow it. The measure of this resistance was the SKED level.
“When Zombie School’s multiplayer mode came out, the SKED levels improved for the first time.”
The deterioration halted in single-player mode and a slight improvement occurred in multiplayer mode.
“With others joining, their interactions also provided stimuli along with the map data stimulation.”
The doctor reached a conclusion after further research.
“The key is receiving new information through wave modulation.”
Wave modulation in single-player games had limitations. Upon replaying the game, the brain entered a pre-optimized state. The game’s volume was insufficient like taking a three-day dose when a three-year dose was needed.
“In this context, Legend Tale appeared. It uses wave modulation...”
Legend Tale was—
“It’s an open world and online.”
A vast open world with numerous other users presented the best conditions. Sang-Hyeon understood why the doctor couldn’t create her own model. They didn’t need to when someone else had already done it, but Sang-Hyeon found it hard to believe.
‘Is this...’
Was his brain comprehending this correctly? Could they continuously replicate the improvement seen in Zombie School’s multiplayer mode?
‘Really...’
In simple terms, they had found a way to heal his arm. To what extent it would improve or if it would be completely cured was unknown, but he could get better.
‘Finally?’