Smashing the Chess Club (1)
That day onward, every evening when Dad came home from work, we learned chess, and during the day, A-rin and I repeated match after match.
A-rin seemed to find the complex exchanges fun too—before long, she ditched simple board games and clutched only chess pieces.
I was in the same beginner's boat, but every game against Dad ended in utter defeat.
"Uuuu… My IQ's 160, but… is it okay to lose this one-sidedlyyy…?"
"Puhahat! If you're keeping score like that, Dad's got five years under his belt? Even with IQ 160, A-yeon's still got a long way to go to crack that five-year wall."
The five-year wall was truly tough to surmount.
But every loss, I reviewed exactly where I'd slipped. Patterns started emerging in how Dad positioned his pieces.
A-rin's learning seriously too—as her big sis, I can't half-ass this.
A-rin was catching on fast.
At first, when we played each other, I won almost every time. A-rin had taken forever just to grasp the rules.
But the moment she mastered them completely, the board dynamics shifted bit by bit.
"Hmm… like this, like this… then I win, right? Sis, whaddya think of this!"
"Huuhet…! No way!"
"Heung. I wonnn!"
"Uuu…"
I dominated midgame, only to get blindsided by a checkmate late-game…
At first, I couldn't even fathom why I'd lost, but after replaying several games, it clicked. A-rin's calculation speed was insane.
While I pondered three moves ahead, she saw five; when I hit five, she was at seven.
Overwhelming neural processing speed. In pure calculation, I stood no chance against her.
But if a three-year-old steamrolls me without resistance, where's my big-sis cred?!
If chess boiled down to who calculated best, it wouldn't have conquered the world.
Abstract strategy games like chess—and most games—split into tactics and strategy.
Tactics: short-term moves that snag an edge. Strategy: long-term vision and planning to hit your goals.
A-rin excelled at spotting the optimal play in favorable spots—pure tactical prowess.
But grasping the game's abstract flow, plotting piece deployments? That was her weak spot—strategy.
I hammered that gap, targeting her relentlessly.
I'd deliberately tangle the position, luring her lightning judgments into traps.
Her quick calc-born "wins" in the short term turned into long-term poison, and I'd slowly dismantle her.
Of course, sustaining that high-level play nonstop? I'd be no beginner.
Even when I carefully shaped a winning position, A-rin would spot some tactic I'd overlooked and blow the game open now and then.
"Heung. Sis, you messed up? This spot's weak!"
"Huuuhet! Lost again!"
"Uhihee."
Our win ratio hovered around 7:3 right now. Me with the 7, naturally.
Big-picture board control's still my edge.
But I couldn't swear it'd last forever.
A-rin reviewed every game, win or lose.
Week three.
For the first time against Dad, I won. He toppled his king toward me first.
"Uuheheng." "Oh."
Reviewing our game, Dad asked,
"A-yeon, you did this on purpose, right?"
"Yup. Pin the bishop here, blocks the rook's path. Knight pressure leaves just two options."
Dad chuckled, ruffled my hair.
Pat-pat.
"Beating Dad in three weeks? Incredible. Total genius. At this rate, you're sharper than prime Shin I-jun."
"Heung. Yoo A-yeon's the smartest on Earth!"
His pats had my face splitting into a goofy grin before I knew it.
Meanwhile, A-rin reviewed her own game beside us, eyes glued to the board.
"When'll A-rin beat Dad, I wonder?"
Dad teased with a grin.
A-rin snapped her head up.
"I could win right nowww!" "Oh yeah? Let's see." "Yup!"
Dad and A-rin's match kicked off.
A-rin went aggressive from the jump—blitzing optimal visual moves, no slow pondering.
Dad defended, dragging it into complexity.
In tangled spots, branching lines explode—A-rin's speed hits a limit. How she navigates decides it.
Midgame deadlock. But late-game, A-rin started thinking hard.
"Huuuung…"
One move burned 40% of her total game time.
The instant she played, Dad's eyes narrowed.
He made a few moves, shook his head, and toppled his king toward her.
"Hehet! I wooo-on!"
A-rin bounced in place, pumping her fists in glee.
"A-rin, that move earlier."
"Yup?"
"You calculated it all out?"
"Yup!"
"Unbelievable… Dad's defeated. Totally owned by two genius daughters today. And I thought I was decent."
Watching, I thought,
Pure tactics? Dad's already in danger.
On the board, our styles diverged.
Dad: rock-solid openings from knowledge and experience. A-rin: tactical blitz from raw processing power. Me: slow strategic squeeze via complex positions.
We'd finally toppled the unbeatable Dad—through luck and specialties.
"A-yeon, A-rin—time to face outsiders."
Dad reminded us of our original goal.
Why learn chess? The neighborhood Chess Club—socializing there. Build A-rin's people skills; expose me to crowds to chip at my stage fright.
"Uuung… Gotta go? Playing just with sis and Dad's plenty funnn…"
A-rin, who'd barely mingled beyond family, looked reluctant as expected.
I squeezed her anxious hand tight.
"A-rin, big sis'll go too! I want A-rin not scared of others. Come with, okay?"
"Sis…"
Nod-nod. A-rin nodded.
"Alright, that's the spirit? I'll call the spot I scouted."
We three piled into the car for the Chess Club.
Big spot near schools and academies—tons of teens meant a hefty club.
[Beginner / Elementary / Intermediate / Advanced]
First floor for Beginner and Elementary, second for Intermediate and Advanced vibes.
Glancing around, the youngest were early elementary—no toddlers like us. Makes sense; chess is intricate.
A 40s guy—the director, probably—approached Dad.
"Hello. Here for registration?"
"Yes. For the kids."
"Hewwooo! Director-niim!"
"H-hewwo…"
We bowed politely. Greet well anywhere, you're halfway in.
But spotting my 105cm and A-rin's 92cm, the director asked,
"Uh, how old are the little ones?"
"I'm fiveee, sis is threeee!"
Hearing our ages, he predictably got that subtle look.
"Ah… To be frank, at three and five, grasping rules can be tough. Attention spans are short then. Early elementary's the sweet spot for keeping up."
From his view, we screamed "pushy parents forcing early education."
Couldn't let Dad get painted as the villain.
"Director-niim, sooo…" Dad started gently.
I cut in, injecting some fire, enunciating clearly.
"Director-niim, don't underestimate us! We know all the rules. King, queen, rook, bishop, knight, pawn moves—got 'em. Castling, en passant, promotion—check. Fork, pin, skewer, discovered—yup!"
I huffed it out; he stared, flustered.
"…M-me too… know 'em…" A-rin chimed in. Thump-thump—heart racing. Adrenaline surged. Speaking my mind bold to an adult? Way more nerve-wracking than expected. Unlike Shin I-jun's body, toddler A-yeon's amygdala was unruly. Mom foresaw this. Repeat scenarios like this to reclaim my past lecturing poise.
His stunned gaze flicked to Dad. Dad shrugged, backing us up.
"Test the girls yourself."
The director set up two tables, laid out chess puzzle printouts.
Two-move checkmates, three-move ones.
I peered in. My three-week chess-tuned neurons and synapses fired instantly at the mating nets.
First puzzle.
Queen e5, king f8 setup.
Solved in ten seconds flat.
"Queen to h8 check, king e7, rook e1 checkmate."
Director verified.
"…Correct."
Second: seven seconds.
Third: twelve seconds.
His skeptical face shifted.
At the other table, A-rin quietly studied hers.
No drooling, wandering, or tantrums like other three-year-olds. Her focus was otherworldly.
A-rin tapped pieces with a finger.
"…Knight f6, queen h7?"
Director checked.
"Correct." And she steamrolled the rest—2-3 seconds faster than me per puzzle.
Puzzles done, he proposed a blitz against me.
Five minutes each. I got black.
Club coach—he had to outclass Dad.
But this tested my staying power.
Game on. Textbook central control opening from him. I countered defensively, twisting positions.
Held to midgame… but crumbled under late pressure.
Heeng… lost… Woulda been epic to topple the director after my big talk… Then Dad and A-rin'd cheer and clap like ooo amazing!
Three-week newbie beating the director? Nah, even IQ 160 has limits.
I grumbled, but his shock was palpable—unlike before.
"Age again?"
"Fiveee. Sis three."
"…How long practicing?"
"Three weeks. Sis started same time."
He glanced at the board.
"Heavens… Under a month for this position?"
"Nono, still way short… Late-game ops lost it…"
My regret drew a stunned look.
A-rin's match ended too. She lost, but had rattled him midgame—his face said it.
Tests over. He told Dad,
"Unprecedented, but Yoo A-yeon and Yoo A-rin both belong in Intermediate. Middle schoolers usually start there. Incredible."
"Huuheheng. Me 'n sis are geniuses!"