Unexpected Reunion
Jang Yu-na, the 2-dan, had finally returned to the Korea Baduk Association after a long time.
It was a place she used to visit like her own home. There, the number of games she had played could not be counted. But in recent years, her footsteps had stopped. She still held the title of professional, yet she had not participated in any tournaments.
At first, it had been understandable. A professional player not entering competitions had once felt embarrassing. Calling herself a pro had felt shameful, and even that had carried a hint of self-deprecation, as if she might not truly deserve the title. But as time passed, her thoughts had changed.
Being a professional did not mean one had to participate in tournaments. It was the same today.
The reason she had come to the Korea Baduk Association today was not for the Ciel Bank Cup. She had come here for referee qualifications. Although she was not a player, this was something a professional could do. And it was an important role that someone had to fulfill.
“Aigoo, I’m so busy these days.”
A confident smile curved the corner of Jang Yu-na’s mouth.
The Baduk specialist streamer, Jang Yu-na, was currently riding the popularity wave to new heights. Her clean commentary, her sensuous flirting with viewers, and the charm that burst through her serious demeanor—all of it made her shine on the broadcast as if streaming was her true calling. Moreover, the hottest content these days was the “Anonymous” series. The reactions were explosive, more than enough to call it a phenomenon. Especially the responses from China had gone far beyond imagination. The mysterious expert hiding his identity, his skill in defeating Chinese players one after another—it was a perfect story for fans who loved wuxia. Because of that, her views on Chinese platforms had skyrocketed, and comments and fandom had exploded.
And endorsements related to Baduk had also come in. Before becoming a professional, she was still one of the Baduk community. The popularity of Baduk, its dissemination, its entertainment value—being able to contribute to any of those things made her happiest.
This was all thanks to the benevolent Anonymous-nim.
Now, people were starting to remember her not as a “half-pro” but as Jang Yu-na, the popular streamer of the Baduk world.
She headed to the 3rd floor office, received instructions from Chief Supervisor Heo Gyu 9-dan and the staff about precautions, and moved to the 2nd floor game room five minutes before the start.
There were three divisions: women’s, senior, and world. Games in all three were scheduled to be held here.
“Huh?”
A familiar face came into view.
Saeki Yuzuha.
When their eyes met, Yuzuha smiled and greeted with a nod.
“You’re still so pretty.”
Jang Yu-na also smiled faintly and returned the greeting.
When Yuzuha was a study group member, Jang Yu-na had met her in a domestic tournament. The result had been her defeat. What was interesting was that it had become the starting point for their closeness. Yuzuha had followed Jang Yu-na closely, and Jang Yu-na had found the awkward, cute Yuzuha with her broken Korean endearing.
“I heard she was in a slump…”
She had heard she was not performing well recently. But she had not contacted her separately. She had experienced that encouragement could sometimes be stressful for someone.
“Please take your seats. From now on, the first round of the Ciel Bank Cup Integrated Preliminaries will begin.”
With Heo Gyu 9-dan’s opening declaration, the only sound in the game room was the soft clacking of stones.
Jang Yu-na moved her feet briskly and watched the game.
Not long ago, there had been a big commotion when cheating was exposed in a Chinese tournament. Because of that, electronic device detectors had been introduced, and the referees had no choice but to stay on edge.
She stopped and slowly scanned the surroundings, then quietly approached Yuzuha.
“Nice and clean.”
The opening was flawless. The subsequent joseki choice was also impeccable. Perhaps Yuzuha’s unique sense was still alive.
“But the opponent is not good.”
Kim Soo-jeong 6-dan. A player rising in momentum after reaching the semifinals of the women’s tournament recently.
Jang Yu-na took a short break and returned to watching Yuzuha’s game.
In the meantime, the moves had progressed quite a bit.
But…
“This stone position…”
A sense of familiarity. It was familiar. The arrangement of stones that did not follow the expected sequence. It was rough yet smooth, delicate yet creative. A sense of the whole board was present.
“I thought this style wasn’t it?”
Clack.
Yuzuha placed the next move. Instead of defending, she asked for a response while relying on the opponent’s stones.
“Wait, this sense…”
It was precarious but brilliant, a line of play that probed the opponent. She knew well that she enjoyed such moves.
“Anonymous…”
Suddenly, that name came to mind. Her heart pounded. Even though she knew it was unbelievable, she could not tear her eyes away from Yuzuha’s game.
After twenty more moves…
“No.”
The more she watched, the clearer the conviction became. It was similar. Very similar. But it was not sharp enough.
Yuzuha’s game was somehow immature. In favorable positions, she had been swayed by Kim Soo-jeong 6-dan’s experience and driven into a counterattack situation. Just before collapsing…
Clack.
Yuzuha made a dramatic escape from the brink. The sensory connection of the previously placed moves. A sense similar to Anonymous. However, that sense was not uniquely Anonymous’s. It seemed like the sense of someone who had been influenced by that person in some way.
“…I lost.”
Kim Soo-jeong 6-dan lowered her head.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Yuzuha organized the stones and left the game room. Her face was a bit flushed. It was not a simple victory. It was a sincere game that had overcome the slump.
“Good for her.”
But a strangely lingering feeling remained in her chest.
Jang Yu-na, in frustration, approached the window and, out of the corner of her eye, looked down beyond the window.
At that moment…
“…Eh?”
Outside the association, on the walkway, Yuzuha was walking side by side with someone. Wearing a white shirt and neat pants, a silhouette that was somehow familiar.
“Kim In-ha?”
The winner of the “Strongest in Gyeonggi” at the Sunae Baduk. A person Kang Hyuk 9-dan had noted and she had suspected. A sense that was hard to see as amateur. And the man who played with the same determination as Anonymous. Even though she knew it was rude, she could not help but wonder if he was Anonymous. That man. With In-ha. Yuzuha was smiling.
“They… knew each other?”
One was the top popular female professional player in Korea-China-Japan. The other was an amateur. There was a connection with Baduk, but honestly, it was an odd combination. But the expression on Yuzuha’s face when looking at In-ha mixed the feelings of someone who respected, liked, and relied on someone. At this point, questions arose. Yuzuha’s changed style. The unpredictable moves Kim In-ha had shown in the Sunae finals. The sense of Anonymous that broke the paradigm presented by AI and seemed to go against it. Somehow, she could not erase the impression that these three were similar.
Whoosh.
Jang Yu-na, as if possessed, headed to the referee’s seat. She picked up the tablet, unlocked it, and scanned the participant list.
“Kim In-ha, Kim In-ha…”
There.
Amateur selection player Kim In-ha.
She flipped through the bracket. Real-time reflected results for general division first round.
“I won.”
Opponent was Kim Dong-gyu 7-dan. A player strong in long-time control games. There were cases where amateurs beat professionals in official tournaments, but he was not an easy opponent. Against such a person…
“Three and a half points difference.”
A complete victory without even counting the komi.
Jang Yu-na slowly took a breath.
Not only her, but many people were speculating about the identity of Anonymous. The common opinion was that it was one of the world’s top players. The names mentioned were all impressive. But…
“I’m just an ordinary office worker.”
The trace of Anonymous. That afterimage kept overlapping with the name Kim In-ha.
“I have to confirm with my own eyes.”
From tomorrow, she would be refereeing general division alternately. Then, she would see it directly. Kim In-ha’s game. Then, all doubts would be resolved.
* * *
Click, click.
The second hand of the clock sounded in her ear. Even in this situation, time was passing.
“… ”
She checked the remaining time. 31 minutes. Out of the two-hour limit, a quarter remained.
On the other hand, her opponent Lin Sui 8-dan, the opponent for the second round of the integrated preliminaries, had less than 3 minutes left.
Clack.
After the long game, he placed a move.
However, it was an ordinary move. A slight change in sequence, a flimsy strategy.
“Did he really think he could beat me with this?”
She had predicted the change of this move. The flow of stones following it. More than ten times. She knew this move would come out, and the intention after that.
Clack.
Without hesitation, she responded. She did not give him time to think. She intended to break the flow and rhythm by forcing the time pressure.
“…!”
Lin Sui 8-dan’s hand stopped. His eyes shook.
“He noticed it.”
A hidden counter on a seemingly ordinary move. He had seen through the strategy she had overlaid on his strategy. While looking for a countermeasure, time had passed.
- Time pressure starts.
A cold voice in Chinese on the clock.
Lin Sui 8-dan forcedly picked up the stone again.
Clack.
A forced move. Not trying to change the flow. It was just a move to somehow prolong the collapsing shape.
“This far.”
She picked up the stone. The last puzzle in the flow. Precisely, quietly.
At that moment, Lin Sui 8-dan’s hair was disheveled. With a self-reproaching face, he placed a black stone outside the board line.
“I lost.”
Although she did not know Chinese well, she could understand the meaning.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
She bowed her head and politely greeted. The referee came, confirmed the result, and quietly turned away.
Swoosh.
She organized the stones and slowly stood up from the chair. Lin Sui 8-dan, perhaps shocked, stared blankly at the board.
“No need to feel sorry for him. In this world where the loser cannot survive, that was the world of professionals.”
She left the game room. Two wins. 40 points for entry acquired. However, if she won just two more games, advancement to the main tournament was confirmed. The “point-based professional accession” that Park Jin-woo sensei had set as a short-term goal was becoming a reality.
“If I just satisfy with entry…”
Her gaze was beyond that. The main tournament. And beyond that. The afterimage was swallowed in a smile. Not words. It would be proven by results.
She came down to the 1st floor lobby. Fortunately, the terrace seat of the cafe that had entered the building was empty.
“We agreed to meet here.”
Yuzuha. Kim Min-ho. Two people from the Giseong Research Group and the prelims had ended, and it was promised to have a meal together.
When approaching the glass door connecting inside for the cafe…
-Ding dong.
With a clear ringing sound, the elevator next door opened its door.
At that moment, one familiar face slowly revealed itself.
Byun Woo-bin.
Their eyes met. He seemed to avoid the gaze for a moment, then silently passed by her side.
Ignored.
She was the same. They were not close enough to pretend to know each other.
But…
“Excuse me.”
She turned around.
Byun Woo-bin was smiling while looking at her.
“Is that the person who was with Yuzuha back then?”
“Yes.”
“It seemed like I saw you at the prelims. But why are you out already…”
The end of the sentence faded. Then, he added with effort.
“Ah, well… There will be a better opportunity next time. Don’t be too disappointed.”
A lame consolation. His tone. His expression. Those words scraped her nerves.
“What is he doing now?”
The attitude of accepting his elimination as a given. That again. A flimsy gaze as if it was natural. It was so childish that even laughter did not come out.
“Byun Woo-bin-ssi also came out early, huh?”
“Uh… what?”
Byun Woo-bin asked back. As if asking if it was really directed at him.
She, as if confirming, repeated the same words.
“Yes, that side. There’s no one else here, right?”
Only then did Byun Woo-bin’s expression harden. The fact that he was ignored the same way. Now, it seemed to have come as unpleasant.
“But, Byun Woo-bin.”
She withdrew her expression. The corners of her mouth were firm, and her tone was cold.
“Why? Did you think I lost? In such a way as if it was natural.”
For a moment, Byun Woo-bin’s eyes shook with surprise.