Chapter 4
Chapter 4
On the monitor, the message “PePe is typing…” appeared.
But I didn’t have the time to check it.
“At this rate, I’ll be late.”
I hurriedly threw on my coat and left the house.
Right now, what mattered more was going to meet my mother, who must be exhausted from working at the restaurant all day.
“Welcome. This is Ciel Bank. How can I help you today?”
“We came regarding the special newborn loan……”
I printed a queue ticket from the machine near the entrance and handed it to them.
“Please take a seat, and we’ll call your number.”
“Thank you.”
The newlywed couple nodded politely and went to sit in the waiting area.
I watched them quietly.
After working as a bank security guard for a long time, one thing I’ve noticed is that younger people tend to be more polite and considerate.
From my experience, the older they are, the more likely they are to be authoritative and rude.
“I keep yawning.”
I’d been short on sleep these past few days, and the fatigue was piling up.
Because of studying for an upcoming certification exam?
No—because I’d been completely hooked on playing Go late into the night.
“I got promoted to 4-dan yesterday.”
A perfect 20 wins out of 20 games.
An incredible achievement—jumping two ranks with a flawless record.
What was even more surprising—
“It wasn’t even that hard.”
I maintained control the entire time and overwhelmed my opponents.
If there was one opponent that stood out, it would be PePe.
“They were good.”
A solid style, yet decisive when it mattered.
Looking back, I couldn’t relax for a second during that match.
It was clearly on a different level compared to the amateur 2-dans and 3-dans I had faced.
“Maybe it really was an alt account?”
I recalled the conversation I hadn’t been able to finish the other day when I went to meet my mother.
Mumyeong: Am I really that good?
PePe: Not really. I just let my guard down and lost.
PePe: Hey.
PePe: Hey!
PePe: If you don’t want to reveal your main account, just play another game.
PePe: Accept the match already!!
“PePe has ended the 1:1 chat.”
When I checked after returning home, PePe was already offline.
I waited to see if they’d log back in, but they never did.
“Well, nothing I can do.”
What mattered was how far my Go could go.
From what I had read, real strong players started from amateur 7-dan online.
That made me even more curious.
Could I beat them and reach amateur 9-dan, the highest online rank?
Bzzzt.
As I continued thinking, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
After confirming there were no waiting customers, I quickly checked the message.
Jinwoo: Sillim Station, 7 p.m. Whoever’s even one minute late buys the meat.
Hyundo: It’s hilarious hearing that from you lol
Sangmo: You’re paying? Thanks for the meal in advance!
Jinwoo: Screw you guys
It was a group chat with close friends from university.
Maybe because of today’s meetup, the chat was more active than usual.
Inha: See you later.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
Normally, I would’ve been excited to meet friends after a long time, but not today.
Since it had been a while, we’d probably end up drinking.
And that meant—
“I won’t be able to play Go today.”
No chance to enjoy the thrill of competing move by move, or the rush of dopamine from winning.
I felt a bit disappointed.
“Inha.”
At the voice calling me, I turned my head.
Assistant Manager Cha Yeryeon, who had just returned from lunch, handed me a takeaway drink.
“It’s iced tea.”
“Huh? Oh, thank you.”
I accepted it, slightly flustered.
In over two years of working here, this was the first time she had spoken to me personally.
She was always quiet and reserved.
“I’m only working until this week. I’m going on maternity leave, so I thought I should say goodbye.”
“Oh.”
My gaze shifted to her noticeably swollen belly.
…So she was pregnant.
“Take care. And make sure you get into the company you want.”
“Yes. I hope you have a safe delivery.”
She nodded and returned to her seat.
“This is a first.”
It felt strange.
Until now, no employee had ever personally told me about transfers or departures.
One day I’d just show up and people would be different, and I’d accept it as normal.
Because I was just a contract security guard, not even included in the branch group chat.
I took a sip of the iced tea through the straw.
Maybe it was the sweetness, but it felt like some of the afternoon fatigue melted away.
Sillim Station.
Right on time, my friends started arriving one by one.
The first to show up was Hyundo.
“Where are the others?”
“Not here yet. They’ll come.”
“Watch, Jinwoo’s definitely gonna be the last one again. Let’s make him pay for the meat.”
I chuckled along with Hyundo.
He worked at DS Capital, a third-tier financial company.
It might not be top-tier, but among us, he was the most successful in using his major.
Soon, Sangmo arrived too.
“I’m here.”
“Hey.”
Sangmo had dropped out of university after military service, saying it didn’t suit him.
He later graduated from a practical music program and now worked as a vocal trainer while doing part-time jobs.
“Where’s Jinwoo?”
“Do you really think he’d be on time?”
“We don’t know when he’ll come. Let’s head in first.”
We went ahead to our usual grilled intestine restaurant.
We ordered what we always ate and were chatting casually when—
“Huff, huff… You guys are so cheap, coming without me… Hey, check the time. I’m not late.”
Jinwoo arrived, breathing heavily as he sat down.
It was exactly 7 p.m.
“Wow, a day when he’s not late?”
“You’re breathing like a pig. Drink some water.”
Jinwoo gulped down cold water.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t changed at all.
Even when he lived five minutes from campus, he was always late to class.
I wondered if he was at least on time for work now.
After catching his breath, he spoke.
“Hey, guess who I ran into just now?”
“Don’t care.”
“Didn’t ask.”
“Shut up. Inha, you remember Yeonhee, right? That freshman everyone liked.”
“Lee Yeonhee?”
I remembered.
She was one of the freshmen when I returned from the military.
Friendly, bright personality, and pretty.
A lot of guys wanted to sit next to her at the welcome party.
“Yeah, her! I ran into her by chance—wow, she’s gotten even prettier. Totally refined now.”
“Is she doing well?”
“Yeah. She said she works at a bank.”
“A bank? Where?”
“Didn’t get that far. Oh, and she asked how you were doing.”
“Me?”
After returning to school, we happened to take the same elective for a semester.
We ate together a few times and got close.
“…But after graduation, we drifted apart.”
I gave a bitter smile.
“So I said you’re doing well. Told her you work at a bank too.”
“What?”
I stopped flipping the meat and stared at him.
“What? It’s not wrong.”
“You should’ve been specific. What if she misunderstands? I’ll look ridiculous.”
“Oh… right. I just said it as it is… sorry.”
At Jinwoo’s apology, I let out a deep sigh.
Because anyone hearing that would assume I was a bank employee.
“Ha… whatever. What’s done is done. And it’s not like I’ll see her again.”
“Yeah… right?”
“This idiot always talks without thinking. Let’s drink.”
We clinked our soju glasses and downed them in one go.
“It’s bitter.”
Was it the alcohol, or the reality that despite graduating from the same university, I was stuck as a contract worker while Yeonhee had moved on?
The conversation continued with various topics.
“What? You’re working as a kendo instructor?”
“Yeah.”
“What about your job?”
“It’s night shifts. I’m doing part-time during the day three times a week.”
Jinwoo worked managing and inspecting goods produced overnight at a factory.
He was juggling two jobs, cutting into his sleep time.
“Isn’t that exhausting?”
“It is. But how am I supposed to buy a house or a car just on one salary? I need to earn as much as I can.”
“True. I’ve been busy checking crypto after work.”
“Made any profit?”
“…Do you think I have?”
The conversation naturally shifted to side jobs and investments.
It was a realistic concern for all of us, nearing thirty.
“I need to get my life together soon…”
Every time conversations like this came up, I felt anxious.
Like I was the only one falling behind.
Maybe sensing that, Hyundo changed the topic.
“Inha, why haven’t you been online lately? You’ve been offline for three days.”
“Yeah, we tried to play ranked yesterday.”
The four of us had always enjoyed AOS games since university.
We played less now, but still occasionally.
“I’ve been playing Go lately.”
“What?”
“Not Gomoku—actual Go?”
They all looked shocked.
Was it really that surprising?
“Yeah. It’s actually fun once you get into it.”
“There you go again with something random. What, are you planning to enter competitions?”
“Go competitions? Those exist?”
“Of course they do. There are amateur tournaments with prize money.”
“Kendo tournaments give prize money too if you place. Go probably gives even more.”
My eyes widened.
“Prize money…?”
I had only thought about using Go as a professional skill.
Participating in tournaments hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“Hey, come on. What tournament? You just started playing.”
“That’s true, but…”
“It’s too early. Even this so-called instructor here gets knocked out every time.”
“Want me to shut you up?”
The conversation continued, filled with trivial chatter.
But my mind was elsewhere.
“Should I try entering one?”
There was nothing to lose.
Online Go was great, but I wanted to feel the physical sensation of placing real stones and the tension of a real match.
And—
“Just maybe… you never know.”
My current online rank was amateur 4-dan.
But I was confident I could go higher.
That’s why I wanted to find out.
Not online—
but in an offline tournament.