My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 315 Where is he?

The core computer room of the Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory at MIT.

The electronic doors slid open to both sides.

Sam strode in, sporting messy curly hair and wearing a coffee-stained jacket.

There was no hum of running machines in the server room; all the test servers had been forcibly shut down today.

In the narrow corridor, fourteen or fifteen core researchers and senior engineers from algorithm groups stood in a dense, dark mass.

No one spoke; the atmosphere was as oppressive as a pressure cooker about to explode.

Richard stood at the very front of the crowd.

When he saw Sam come in, Richard's bloodshot face twisted instantly. He charged forward like a mad bull, grabbed Sam's coat collar, and the force pulled Sam staggering forward.

"The Cayman Islands?!"

Richard's roar echoed between the metal walls, making one's eardrums ache.

"What the hell did you do?! I called the legal department, and they told me that the code you uploaded, along with the underlying algorithm, was completely locked and cross-licensed by a trust company registered in an offshore duty-free zone a few hours ago!"

Richard shook Sam's collar hard, spitting almost onto Sam's face.

"Do you even know how much a patent for handling tens of millions of concurrent connections with zero overflow is worth? You're throwing away MIT's biggest goldmine of the next decade like garbage to some scoundrel lawyer?!"

......

At the same time.

Cambridge, Harvard University Department of Physics, Center for Higher Dimensional Physics and String Theory.

Allen pushed open the double doors to Conference Room No. 3.

There was no physical confrontation, but the atmosphere here was even more suffocating than in MIT's computer labs.

Around the long oval conference table sat seven white-haired, top scholars whose every move in the theoretical physics community could cause an earthquake.

Allen's advisor, Professor Kane, the head of the High Dimensional Topology Group, sat at the very front of the long table.

Before Kane lay the preprint paper that Allen had uploaded. It was covered in striking red crosses and questions.

"Alan".

Kane didn't roar, but his voice was as cold as the Siberian permafrost.

"I spent two years teaching you how to derive the continuity of the multidimensional universe using rigorous string field equations."

Kane extended a finger and tapped it heavily on the third page of the paper.

"And you, in this sacred eleven-dimensional model, forcibly crammed in a completely illogical algebraic wall! At the extreme point where the curvature was about to diverge, you directly severed the manifold with a constant!"

Kane looked up, his eyes fixed on a traitor.

"Where did the conservation of energy go? The mass gap vanished into thin air? What do you take physics for? This is utter heresy, a disgrace to theoretical physics!"

......

The scene shifts back to the MIT computer lab.

Faced with Richard's rage, Sam did not back down, nor did he bow his head to his mentor's intimidation as he usually did.

He raised his hands, grabbed Richard's wrists, and forcefully pried them off his collar bit by bit.

"Boss."

Sam's voice was hoarse, but unusually firm.

"The patent issue was David Collin's doing. Even if you kill me now, the legal doors are already welded shut."

Sam shook off Richard's hand, strode past him, and headed straight for the huge whiteboard at the back of the computer room.

"But you've shut down the entire lab and brought everyone here, and I don't think it's because of the patent."

Sam grabbed a black marker from the whiteboard tray, turned around, and looked at the top engineers in the computer room with their complex expressions.

"You're standing here because you downloaded my pseudocode, ran it, and then you were devastated to find that you couldn't understand how that truncation instruction worked at the lower level at all."

Richard's face turned pale and then red, but he did not refute it.

"You don't understand. Why does Chen Zhuo's algebraic operator dare to discard continuity when the data deluge exceeds the threshold?"

Sam turned around and snapped the cap off the marker.

"Shut up, look at the blackboard. I'm going to teach you how to fold memory!"

......

Harvard, Conference Room 3.

Despite being interrogated by seven top physicists, Allen's expression remained completely unchanged.

He did not go on to explain the problem of energy conservation that drives all physicists crazy.

He walked silently to the giant blackboard at the front of the conference room.

He took a white piece of chalk out of the chalk box.

"Professor Kane."

Allen had his back to the long table and was looking at the blackboard.

"The ultimate goal of physics is to explain the universe, not to maintain your pathetic, textbook-written formulas."

A collective gasp filled the conference room. Two of the professors were so angry that they stood up abruptly.

"Arrogant!"

"Alan, are you crazy?"

Allen ignored it.

He gripped the chalk tightly and slammed it down on the blackboard.

"If our model were in a continuous manifold, it would always collapse, but if we add this truncation, the eleventh dimension can be perfectly closed, and that is the truth of the universe."

Allen suddenly exerted force on his wrist.

"No matter how thuggish it may seem, no matter how unreasonable you think it is, truth doesn't need to reason with you!"

The chalk made a piercing whistling sound as it scratched across the blackboard.

The simulation begins.

......

"Shuashuashua——"

On the whiteboard in the MIT computer lab, Sam's marker was flying wildly.

"When concurrent data reaches its extreme value, the traditional architecture logic is to queue and expand capacity, but then deadlock and overflow occur because the allocation cannot be completed!"

Sam yelled at the engineers behind him as he wrote.

"But we're not allocating it! We're just throwing it into the commercial space that Chen Zhuo has constructed!"

He drew a huge set map next to the code.

"This isn't physical memory elimination! It's a folding of algebraic dimensions! From a three-dimensional perspective, this data does overflow, but under Chen Zhuo's quotient space mapping, this data is mounted on a redundant grid that doesn't require the system to actively address it!"

The computer room was completely silent.

The only sound was the rapid scratching of a marker on the whiteboard.

Several senior engineers in the algorithm team had subconsciously pulled out notebooks from their pockets, their eyes fixed on the mapping logic on the whiteboard, their pens frantically taking notes.

Richard stood at the front, his breathing becoming heavy, his eyes following Sam's pen strokes. His initial anger was gradually replaced by extreme shock and disbelief.

......

In the Harvard conference room, Allen's chalk made a rapid tapping sound on the blackboard.

He didn't write out the preceding continuous field equations; he directly used Chen Zhuo's constant C as the first cornerstone of the derivation.

"You're asking me where the quality gap went?"

Allen spoke at an extremely fast pace, continuously spreading out the variational formulas of string membrane topology on the blackboard.

"The energy didn't disappear! It was simply forcibly blocked at the extreme point by Chen Zhuo's algebraic wall, and then flowed along the wall into the closed surface of a higher dimension!"

He wrote down a long list of convergence conditions for homology groups.

"Don't look at it with a smooth lens! Look at it from a discrete, fragmented perspective! When we embed this wall into the physical field, you'll see the results!"

Allen snapped the piece of chalk in his hand and picked up the other half to continue writing.

"The singularity is locked! The gravitational field hasn't diverged! After being truncated, the eleven-dimensional membrane has restored its topological continuity at the next grid point!"

In the conference room, the two elderly professors who had just stood up and berated Allen had silently returned to their seats.

Everyone's eyes were glued to the blackboard.

Professor Kane placed his hands on the table, his originally straight back now involuntarily leaning forward as he stared intently at the last line of self-consistent equations written by Allen.

......

The scene rapidly shifts between two blackboards.

Sam's marker landed heavily on the whiteboard.

"The compiler's pointer, upon encountering this wall, completed a logical self-closing loop! The system determined memory safety, and smoothly passed through tens of millions of concurrent requests!"

Allen drew the final closing symbol on the blackboard with his chalk.

"The eleven-dimensional string-membrane topology, under the forceful intervention of algebraic truncation, has achieved physical self-consistency! The universe has not collapsed!"

"Snapped!"

Sam threw away the marker in his hand.

"Clatter".

Allen dropped the piece of chalk he was holding.

Two young people, in two different academic temples, simultaneously turned around to face the world's most outstanding group of minds.

"This is zero overflow, this is absolute security at the underlying level."

Sam looked at Richard, who was covered in sweat, his chest heaving.

"This is the mass gap closure. This is the acknowledgment of the real universe."

Allen looked at the silent physicists and pushed up his glasses.

There was silence.

In MIT's computer lab, nobody mentioned the Cayman Islands anymore, and nobody mentioned uploading in violation of regulations anymore.

In the Harvard conference room, no one mentioned physical heresy anymore, and no one mentioned withdrawing funding anymore.

What is presented on these two blackboards has transcended common sense, and even the existing boundaries of these two disciplines.

It's as if they used violent means to tear open a corner of God's trump card and forcefully stuff it in front of everyone.

Richard swallowed a mouthful of saliva with great difficulty.

He stared at the perfect, flawless folding logic on the whiteboard.

As a Turing Award-winning architect, he knew better than anyone that this pseudocode was just a facade.

What's truly terrifying is the mathematical logic that underpins the operation of this pseudocode.

It is that algebraic foundation called Quotient Space Mapping and Discrete Truncation.

Richard’s gaze shifted from the whiteboard and slowly turned to Sam, who was standing there.

"Sam."

Richard's voice had completely lost its previous rage, instead revealing a barely concealed dryness and trembling.

"This code...this underlying physical system, you're just a translator, right?"

Sam didn't speak, but simply nodded in agreement.

In a conference room at Harvard.

Professor Kane slowly stretched out his hands, took off his reading glasses, and placed them on the table.

He rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he looked at the self-consistent equation on the blackboard and let out a long sigh.

In that sigh lay the frustration of having half a lifetime of faith shattered, and also the relief of seeing the ultimate truth.

"Alan".

Professor Kane looked up at his student.

"Who was the person who wrote that constant C, the person who swallowed the physical mass gap with an algebraic wall...?"

Sam and Allen gave the same answer in two different places.

"Chen Zhuo".

"Princeton's clumsy approach."

Richard suddenly took a step forward.

"Chen Zhuo...that fourteen-year-old Chinese-American prodigy, where is he now?"

Richard stared intently at Sam, speaking rapidly.

Is he still in New Jersey? Is he still in Princeton?

Sam shook his head.

No, he's in Boston right now.

In the Harvard conference room, Professor Kane suddenly stood up from his chair, the chair dragging on the floor with a screeching sound.

He didn't look at the other professors who were still in a daze.

"Alan".

Professor Kane's voice was more urgent than ever before, even carrying a pilgrimage-like urgency.

"Take us to see him, now, immediately."

Kane grabbed his coat from the table and strode towards the door of the conference room.

"The physics department must find out face-to-face how he conceived of this wall. This is a critical moment for the entire field of physics!"

In the MIT computer lab, Richard grabbed Sam's arm with surprising strength.

"Boston? He's right here?"

Richard's eyes blazed with fanaticism as he turned and roared at the algorithm team members behind him.

"Everyone, get moving! Get the cars ready! Bring Chen Zhuo's entire fifteen-page mathematical manuscript!"

Richard pulled Sam outside.

"Take me to see him! The computer science lab must get firsthand access to the explanation! Whatever his conditions, whatever that damn Cayman Islands lawyer wants, agree to it! Let's go!"