Board Game Bliss and Prodigy Awakening
That evening of board game fun. Dad got home from work and rushed straight to A-rin the moment he opened the front door.
A-rin was stacking blocks in the living room.
"Our lil' girl—!"
Dad's massive hand scooped up A-rin.
"Kyaa—!"
Whoosh whoosh. A-rin bobbed up and down in Dad's grip like aerial calisthenics.
"IQ 145? Pfft, 145! Smarter than your old man! We've got two geniuses in this house now, two!"
"Heeheehee—! Down, down—!"
A-rin burst into uncontrollable giggles.
Whoosh whoosh. I watched from the sofa as A-rin soared and plunged through the air.
… Jealous.
No, not jealous. Okay, maybe a tiny bit. No, not that jealous!
"A-yeon-ah, why the puppy-dog eyes?"
Dad shot me a look, A-rin tucked under his arm.
"Wasn't lookin'."
"You were."
"Nuh-uh."
"Sis! Look at meee!"
"Ugh—! Wasn't lookin'!"
Dad grinned and set A-rin down.
Thud thud. Then he lumbered over to me.
"Y'know, haven't given our A-yeon her airplane rides lately. C'mere."
"N-No, da… I'm five now."
"What kinda talk is that? Five's still a baby."
"I'll be heavy… bigger than last time."
"Dad's got muscles, see?"
He rolled up his sleeve, flexing his bicep.
Gulp. I hesitated—just one second.
"… Still no. Do A-rin more—"
"No refusals!"
"Huek—!"
Dad's hand nabbed my side.
And.
Whoosh whoosh.
"Uheheheeng—!"
The ceiling loomed right overhead, rushing close then far.
My semicircular canals fired off signals; brain dumped adrenaline like a survival alarm.
The rush had me giggling nonstop. A-rin clapped wildly beside me.
"Sis laughin' too—!"
"N-No, not me—!"
After that day.
I borrowed Mom's laptop every chance I got, researching how to supercharge A-rin's brain.
A-rin's in her golden window too. Gotta explode her strengths now.
Neuroscience says synapses densest around age three—lifetime peak.
Stimulation here molds the brain's future structure. No exaggeration.
I knew it well; that's why I crammed knowledge and languages back then.
Proud to chat fluently in seven. … Leaky pronunciation aside.
A-rin's brain maxes fluid reasoning and processing speed.
Park Ji-su said she dominates clear-rule zones like board games or puzzles.
"Board games, huh… Hm…"
Basic ones won't cut it for real stimulation. Party fluff? Hard pass. Need brain-melting tactical strategy beasts.
No comfy fun allowed!
"Not Jenga… Somethin' real brain-burners?"
Click click. I scoured sites for board game deets.
Then—jackpot site.
"BGG(BoardGameGeek)…?"
Global board game database.
"… Oho."
Key: Complexity weights from 1.0 (light party fluff) to 5.0 (branching choices, deep strat, insane reads).
Othello's 2.0, chess 3.6, Go 3.9.
Perfect. Nailed it.
Not every game's Korea-available, but solid resource.
Can't dump 5.0 on A-rin raw.
Her language grasp is toddler-level. 5.0s drown in rules and text—total meltdown risk.
Too niche.
Start simple rules…
Easy to learn, hard to master. Game dev wisdom.
Easy entry hooks her; tough mastery wrings her brain.
Decided. Ramp from 1.0 up.
Intuitive rules. Pattern spotting. Snap calls.
Leverage her strengths, layer in strat slow.
Evening. Approached Dad post-work.
"Dad."
"Yeah? Sweetie."
Handed him the memo. He read.
"A-yeon-ah, what's this list?"
"Board game lineup. For A-rin's brain boost."
"Brain boost?"
"Yup. Three now—prime stim time. Picked from her IQ scores."
"… Buy 'em all?"
"Nah yet. Top-down, step-by-step. Easiest first."
Ruffle ruffle. Dad tousled my hair with his big paw.
"Our A-yeon's plannin' for sis—such a good girl."
"Nihehe."
That's me, best big sis ever.
One day, Mom checked emails on her laptop and casually asked me.
"A-yeon-ah."
"Yeah, Mom?"
"Reporters keep emailing for Riemann Hypothesis paper interviews. Whaddo?"
"Mmm… Ignore 'em!"
Mom blinked, surprised.
"For real? You always said you wanted fame."
Yeah, I'd begged for spotlight and claps.
But plans, people!
"Hmph. Ghost 'em now—hooks the world harder! Mysterious till the big reveal, baby A-yeon style!"
V-sign with both hands.
"Gotcha. But polite no's to dodge drama later. Cool?"
"Yup!"
Tap tap. Mom typed gracious rejections.
Thanks to my nudges, board games piled up one by one.
A-rin's eyes sparkled at each new box Dad hauled in.
"Waa—! Dad's the best!"
"A-rin-ah, say 'thank you' proper."
"Thank youuu—!"
New box? She bolted—thud thud—to me reading in the living room, begging playtime.
"Sis, sis!"
"Wha? New game's here? Let's do it!"
"Yeah!"
Just us two: 2-player. Dad home: 4-player family fest.
No Jenga chaos fiascos.
All custom-fit for A-rin.
We huddled round the living room table. First up: pattern-hunt grab-fest. Spot it fastest, snag the card.
"Watch close. Pick three—same trait all, or total diffs. Gotcha?"
"Yeah!"
Early rounds flowed samey. Dad snagged wins sometimes, Mom too. Mostly me, crushing leads. A-rin? Maybe one per round tops.
Aww, hate easy-stomps~ World's too simple, uhehehet.
Smirked.
But I missed it then.
"Like this… that like that…"
A-rin lost chill, replaying rules in her head, hunting wins.
Two, three rounds in—her moves shifted. Hooked, hands blurring.
Fourth round.
Here it is…!
I spotted, reached—A-rin lightning-snatched my target.
"Huek… Hold up…!"
"Huh? Sis why?"
"Nothin'…"
Fifth. Sixth.
Suddenly, my hands lagged.
No… Not me slowing… A-rin's accelerating…!
Rules took her time.
But grasped, patterned, grooved? Boom—fluid reasoning and speed dominated.
Her score overtook mine.
Had to concede.
Felt it clear… A-rin's processing smokes mine. No doubt.
Wechsler ties us at processing 160—but head-to-head? She crushes.
"A-rin… you're blazing?"
"Uhehehet! Told ya! Gon' win someday!"
"Hehe, first A-yeon L ever."
"Puhuhu, always smarty-brags—sis beat ya now? Mad? Huh?"
Parents chuckled, seeing cute sis-fight.
Normal family game night.
No genius prodigy vibes.
But sparring her, I know: Hone this edge, she'll conquer world stages.