Chapter 10
Chapter 10
[17th National Amateur Baduk Tournament. Thank you for participating. As your participation category has been confirmed, we provide the following information.]
I carefully checked the text message sent by the Su-dam-bae organizers.
There didn’t seem to be any issues with the division, tournament format, location, or schedule.
However, the venue for the tournament was farther than I expected.
If I took the subway, it would take about one hour and forty minutes from home.
“……Such a long distance. Let’s not complain. At least I got in.”
I only learned later that Su-dam-bae was one of the more reputable amateur Go tournaments.
The participant divisions alone were highly detailed, categorized by gender, age, region, and rank.
There were even dan certifications, and the prize scale was large.
If I hadn’t applied immediately after hearing An Seong-hyun 7-dan’s advice, I might not even have been able to participate due to early closure.
Ziiing.
The sound of the automatic door opening made me quickly put my phone into my pocket.
I put on a service smile and stepped forward to assist the customer.
“Welcome. This is Siel Bank. How may I help you—oh? Team Leader Gwak?”
“How’ve you been?”
A man in his early forties with a neat impression. A slightly protruding belly that looked average for an office worker.
He was Gwak Yong-gu, my team leader at the dispatch agency I belonged to.
Some bank branches directly hire their own security staff, but most are dispatched workers like me. He manages people like us.
“Why are you here without any notice?”
“Why else? Your branch manager called me.”
Team Leader Gwak leaned in slightly and lowered his voice.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, did you?”
“……No, I didn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
What could I even do to cause trouble?
It’s the same repetitive daily routine.
“Haa. Then maybe it’s just another meeting about signing up for something. I’ll go in and check.”
Team Leader Gwak headed toward the branch manager’s office.
I watched his back for a moment before quietly returning to my post.
Some time passed.
Team Leader Gwak came back with a dark expression.
“In-ha, can we talk for a moment?”
We moved to the smoking area outside the bank building.
He lit a cigarette and exhaled.
“Phew. Your branch manager isn’t happy with you.”
“With me?”
“Yeah. He says you lack company loyalty.”
“Loyalty?”
I let out a hollow laugh at how absurd it sounded.
What era is this, expecting loyalty from a contract security worker?
He blew out cigarette smoke.
“The manager wants you to show more enthusiasm. Join company dinners. Actively recommend the mobile banking app to waiting customers.”
“The app?”
Each branch is evaluated on how many customers install the mobile banking app, and it counts toward performance.
The problem was—
Is that even the job of a security guard?
Other employees get bonuses for performance, but mine doesn’t change no matter what I do.
So what exactly are they expecting from me?
“You’re struggling, I know. But what can you do? Just do it.”
“You know the situation, Team Leader. This branch is near a traditional market. Most customers are elderly. They don’t care about apps.”
“I know. I know, but there’s no other way.”
The conversation went in circles.
We were both just cogs, with no real choice.
“Anyway, just pretend to do it. Oh, and there’s a company dinner today. Unless you’re quitting, you have to attend. I’m going.”
With that, his brief smoke break ended.
I returned to the branch with heavy steps and took a quiet breath.
‘Should I quit?’
It was a thought I’d been having lately.
With my Go skills, wouldn’t I be able to do something better?
Even teaching private Go lessons would probably pay more than this.
Then—
Ding!
An unfamiliar notification sound rang in my head.
[!!]
An ominous exclamation mark window appeared.
I reached out and opened the system window.
[You have not yet met the conditions to maintain your talent.]
“What?”
Why is this warning popping up right now?
Could it be that my job and the talent maintenance conditions are related?
As I was lost in thought—
A switch clicked somewhere in my mind.
‘Wait a second. Let’s think the other way around.’
If I meet the system’s maintenance conditions, then this talent becomes mine.
Permanent ownership, literally.
At least if there’s a condition, it means there’s a clear line to follow.
This might actually be advantageous for me.
Because I already had a guess about what the system required.
“If I can keep this talent… there’s no reason to keep this job, is there?”
Even though it was absurd, my mind strangely became clear.
Clear conditions.
Clear rules.
Exactly what I wanted.
Cheonwon Sports Complex.
It took nearly two hours by subway to get here.
‘Good thing the company dinner ended early.’
There had been a department dinner yesterday.
Normally I would have skipped it with excuses, but I had no choice but to attend due to Team Leader Gwak’s notice and the welcome party for Yeon-hee.
That familiar distance.
Conversations I couldn’t join.
The feeling of being out of place was still the same.
I was just someone filling a seat.
The only relief was that the branch manager left early, saying he had an appointment today.
Thanks to that, the dinner ended early.
“Next station is Cheonwon Sports Complex. Doors will open on the right.”
After getting off the subway and walking for about ten minutes—
From the roadside, banners were hanging, and street vendors lined up along the path.
Ahead of the Su-dam-bae tournament organized by the provincial Go association, the city famous for rice felt lively, like it was preparing for a festival.
“Wow, this scale is insane.”
Inside the gymnasium where the tournament was being held, it was already packed with participants.
Children, students, middle-aged adults, and the elderly.
People of all ages, genders, and atmospheres gathered together.
‘There are twenty divisions.’
A space where players could enjoy and compete under highly segmented categories.
Now I understood why Su-dam-bae was considered one of the largest amateur Go tournaments in the country.
“My name is Kim In-ha. My registration number is…”
I received my participant badge from the staff and looked around for my section.
Preschool division, senior division, women’s division, team matches, and more.
Each section was neatly arranged, with rows of Go boards lined up.
It took some time to find my assigned area.
“There it is.”
[Gyeonggi Strongest Division]
This was my category.
Eligibility: residents of Gyeonggi Province with amateur ranking between 4-dan and 6-dan on the Three Kingdoms Go rating system.
My current rank was amateur 5-dan, so I fit perfectly.
But—
‘…Still feels a bit disappointing.’
This was where I was officially supposed to be.
But my eyes kept drifting to the other side.
[National Strongest Division]
Eligibility: amateur 5-dan or higher.
A division for top amateur players who could face professional low-dan players at even odds or handicap stones.
The absolute elite of amateur Go.
‘I want to play there.’
Honestly, I felt like I wouldn’t lose to anyone.
I wanted to compete under the same standards.
But that required rank.
An official amateur 5-dan or higher dan certificate that qualified for the national strongest division.
“Opening ceremony will begin shortly…”
Speeches followed from the governor, county head, and professional Go player Kang Hoon 9-dan, a local representative.
Afterwards came announcements about awards and special events.
When it ended, the broadcast signaled the start of the tournament.
I looked across the board at my opponent.
A middle-aged man, around his mid-forties.
My opponent in the 64-player bracket.
“Please take care of me.”
I placed the first move as Black.
Upper-left star point.
Unlike me, my opponent took both star points, building thickness.
A clear sign of an aggressive fighting style.
‘Perfect.’
As soon as the opening phase ended, Black and White collided.
Neither side yielded, and a fierce battle unfolded.
‘He’s decent, but that’s it.’
There was nothing particularly sharp or threatening.
He was around the typical 4–5 dan level I often saw online.
Eventually, my opponent couldn’t hold on and resigned.
“I resign.”
First win.
Not bad.
After warming up, I crushed my next opponent in the Round of 32.
Every move I made was a half-step faster.
The board was under my control from start to finish.
‘Easy.’
Then came Round of 16.
Stronger opponent than before.
Someone who clearly understood their own strengths and weaknesses.
But that itself became their downfall.
When their style didn’t work, they panicked and collapsed.
By the time the morning rounds ended, I was already in the quarterfinals.
“Lunch boxes are over there.”
I picked up my lunch box after confirming my name on the bracket.
As I stepped outside, I saw a familiar figure walking toward me.
‘No way.’
The unease became reality.
As he got closer, his face became unmistakable.
I quickly turned my head.
‘Why is the branch manager here…’
Of all places.
He was definitely here for the same tournament, after leaving the dinner early yesterday.
My shoulders stiffened as the distance closed.
I tilted my body slightly and avoided eye contact.
If I meet his eyes, it’ll be trouble.
Questions would start.
Since when did you play Go?
Why didn’t you say anything?
Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, it would be exhausting.
‘Just pretend I didn’t see him.’
Work and personal life.
Keeping that boundary was something I valued.
I turned my body and quietly waited for him to pass.
Today’s tournament—
…playing well wasn’t the only important thing. Not getting caught mattered too.