The Qualifier
"So joining at the losing side's dan rank was the right call here?"
"Yes. It would have been far trickier otherwise."
Shim Ho-jun 9-dan, walking me back through the game from the very first move and peppering me with questions the moment our match was over.
"You could have connected safely in this position—what kind of calculation led you to play such a bold move instead?"
"Ah, at that point…"
I gladly poured everything out for him. During a game, we are rivals—but when the game is over, aren't we companions aiming for the same place?
"I'm sorry to keep you when you must be exhausted, Teacher Ryu."
"Not at all. I learned quite a lot myself."
"Please go on to win the main tournament as well—so that my loss won't feel too embarrassing."
After thirty minutes of trading opinions with me, Shim Ho-jun 9-dan glanced at the clock, bowed his head, and offered his farewell.
Victory in the two-game series.
My mistakes grew more frequent as the game wore on, and my endgame turned clumsy—which stung—but I figured I only blundered more than usual precisely because his tenacity and passion were that ferocious. Flaws aside, a win is a win.
I left the Baduk Association building where the qualifier had been held on somewhat weary legs.
So-hee had a family birthday to attend—her parents', I'd heard—so I'd insisted she take the day off and forced her out the door despite her protests.
I'll have to flag a taxi today, then.
"Hmm…."
The match had started before lunch, yet here it was already evening by the time it ended. With the tension draining away, hunger crashed over me all at once.
Worried my mother might be waiting up for me, I sent the text and went looking for a nearby gukbap place.
When you're worn out, nothing beats a steaming bowl of soup and rice.
"One pork offal gukbap, please."
"Well, my goodness. You look like a little foreign miss, but you've got good taste, don't you?"
"Haha…."
Hearing some remark or other every single time I ordered at a restaurant had become part of my routine, so I merely smiled awkwardly.
"Ma'am, isn't that girl there Ryu Seoa, the pro player? The one that's been on the TV all the time lately."
A man sitting alone at the next table had recognized me and spoke up.
"Oh! You're right… and here my husband's a Go fanatic, of all things."
The woman set down a water bottle and headed for the kitchen. Before long, a racket erupted from within.
"What! You mean that's Master Ryu Seoa!?"
Voice ringing with disbelief, the owner came rushing out of the kitchen at a desperate sprint.
"Master, I watch all your games. Oh my—what an honor to meet you like this. Truly, you are the hope of our fading Korean Go world."
Seized by emotion, the owner clasped both my hands and fired words at me like machine-gun rounds. My head started to spin.
"Ah, you came straight after the qualifier, didn't you! You must be starving—just wait a moment. I'll serve you properly, nothing lacking."
Rushing back into the kitchen, he emerged shortly after with the gukbap—along with boiled pork slices and blood sausage, the offal cut into generous chunks—and set it all before me.
"If you need anything, say the word. All of it's on the house."
He had the woman line up every kind of beverage in front of me as well, and beamed with satisfaction.
"I, um, don't eat very much… I might leave a lot behind…."
"No need to worry about that."
The owner laughed, firm and resolute.
Left with no choice, I picked up a few pieces with my chopsticks.
Delicious—it really was delicious. The only problem was the stares pouring in from every direction, which were deeply uncomfortable.
But once I stirred a heaping mound of ssamjang into the broth and took one hearty spoonful of the gukbap, the satisfaction that flooded me made me forget all about the onlookers.
"Hooah…."
Clutching my belly, which felt fit to burst, I finished the meal—and the owner came over asking for an autograph.
"Master, your penmanship is exquisite as well! I'll treasure it as a family heirloom—thank you!"
"Oh no—thank you! Thanks to you, I ate wonderfully!"
"Please come again!!"
As I stepped out of the shop, the owner bowed at a full ninety degrees.
Sorry, but I think I'll have to pass on a repeat visit. The food was delicious, but… this kind of treatment is still a lot to bear.
I trudged along to the main road and hailed a taxi.
"To ○○-dong, ○○ Apartments, please."
"Yes, ma'am~."
I slumped back against the seat. My stomach was full; the only thought in my head was getting home and collapsing into rest.
"Oh! Could you be Ryu Seoa 2-dan?—ah, you are!"
The driver was peering at me through the rearview mirror, eyes wide with surprise.
Dammit, not this again.
As I got out of the taxi, I found myself seriously contemplating whether I needed to get in touch with So-hee after all.