Around Chuseok 06
The first thing I did after arriving on the island was, of course, hunt down that Go master's board. That was the whole point of coming here, after all. I brought Baekseol and Sua along, plus a bunch of my jotjip girls as pack mules. Our destination was a seaside cave—kinda precarious spot, but nothing we couldn't handle with a little care.
Luckily, we made it without any major fuckups. Inside, I found a dust-covered Go board and a skeleton slumped right on top of it.
"Whoa... it really exists. Master, where the hell do you even find shit like this? You got some kinda portal or what?"
"There's always a way."
I didn't wanna touch it, but I carefully shoved the skeleton aside. Then I brushed off the board, where dried blood had crusted over. A shit-ton of dust clung to my hand.
"Kyaaak!!"
Sua yelped in terror, yanking out her gun. Baekseol drew her sword. The rest of the jotjip girls dropped to their knees in panic, but Inaeun calmly pulled her Terminator. Solid reactions, all around.
"Ahh, relax. Nothing to be scared of."
"Hic... M-Master... th-that's not a h-hologram! It's a g-ghost...!!"
A translucent figure hovered over the Go board.
"Han Guk-young Master, this humble junior has come to pay his respects."
I picked up a black stone and placed it where he indicated. Then I casually responded with a white stone.
Tok. I placed another black stone for him, then hit back with white.
The Go master's board. This was the board inhabited by Han Guk-young, humanity's greatest Go genius who dominated the world of Go right up until 2024. His records—like 20 straight years of world championship wins, claiming every title from the Korean, Japanese, and Chinese Go associations—were unprecedented before him and still unbroken today. That's why people call him an irreplaceable prodigy.
So why was a guy like that haunting this board? The story's kinda tragic. Back then, Go AIs were popping up everywhere, and folks were saying human Go was obsolete, that it wasn't art anymore. Most pros accepted it and adapted, but Han Guk-young rejected it outright. He believed humans still had a shot, that we could beat AI. But reality was brutal. Disillusioned with a Go world turning into an AI playground, he retired and vanished into seclusion. No one could find him back then, and with World War III erupting 27 years later, the chaos buried him forever.
Turns out he ended it all on some forsaken island in the Sinan chain, alone with his most cherished board.
Side note: "Meijin" is a Japanese Go term, but the game devs used it instead of "Guksu" because... "Guksu board sounds like somyeon noodles or some shit." It became a meme.
Han Guk-young groaned as he surveyed the board. Sounded like he was in a bind.
"I'm up against history's greatest Go genius. What'd you expect?"
"... "
Well, yeah. The only Go I'd ever played was mini-Go on a 9x9 board. I could read local sequences okay, but grasping the overall flow and where to place stones? Not my thing.
"That's an overstatement. I'm just an average joe. Pros still play great."
"It's 2076, Master."
He jolted in shock.
"Yes. And the Go world is still thriving."
The shock hit him hard. The guy who'd denied AI in life was reeling now.
"Most AIs got scrapped."
"China started World War III in '27."
"The war damage from AIs was insane, so they got heavily regulated. Think nuclear non-proliferation treaty. Non-essential industries tanked, and Go banned them outright."
"Eh, smashing computers with hammers counts as a win, right? All roads lead to Seoul, as they say."
"Fair enough."
He let out a deep sigh. After 50 years trapped here, meeting me must've stirred up all kinds of thoughts.
Perfect.
"Then come with me. My grandpa's a huge Go fanatic."
"Nah, amateur."
He looked a bit disappointed. After I dug him out from 50 years of being stuck, openly sulking like that. Rude as fuck, but it's a gift for Grandpa, so I'll let it slide.
"Yeah."
"'76."
"China lost Inner Mongolia to Mongolia, Tibet and Xinjiang went independent, everything north of the Yellow River became Korean territory. South of it got splintered into 20 pieces."
This hit harder than hearing it was '76.
"Why would I lie to you, Master? You'd see the truth the second you step outside."
"Japan got wrecked mid-war by the Nankai Trough megaquake."
"A 10.1 quake hit the Nankai Trench, Fuji erupted five days later, then a 8.9 direct Tokyo hit two weeks after that. Government's been crippled ever since. Still rebuilding."
"......"
"Yep."
Corporate dictatorship under a democratic facade, but still one of the least fucked-up countries.
"Not me, but maybe Grandpa. This board's a gift for him."
Han Guk-young's translucent form, which had been chatting with me, smoothly absorbed back into the board. The once-bustling cave fell silent again.
"...A real ghost. I can't go to dark places anymore, Master."
"I thought only things humans can perceive existed... Guess that was prejudice."
Sua and Baekseol chimed in, while the others gossiped up a storm. I pocketed the board and pointed at the shattered remains bittersweetly.
"Grab the bones too. We'll give 'em to Grandpa together."
"Yes, Master. But... you think he'll like such a beat-up old board?"
"Size doesn't matter to a guy who can have anything. It's the thought that counts."
And our Goyeongman was a die-hard Go nut. No way he didn't know Han Guk-young, the legend who'd etched his name in Go history. His final days, remains, and a board you could talk and play with on? Perfect Chuseok gift from the grandson.
"My lord. Why not buy the whole island and include it?"
"Huh? This island?"
"Yes."
Baekseol gazed wistfully at the spot.
"The place where the departed spent his final days... where he ended it all... where he lingered for 50 years. It'd mean something."
"Hmm."
Not a bad idea.
"Sua, contact the owner. Tell 'em I'm buying. Payment later, with interest."
"Got it."