Chapter 5
Chapter 5
“This station is Howang Station. The doors will open on the right.”
I got off the train, tapped my transportation card, and stepped out of the subway station.
The area around Howang Station, which I was visiting for the first time, was quiet.
Even though it was only a few stops away from my house, it felt much more remote.
“Is it that way?”
As I walked along the main road, I spotted a school building across the intersection.
“The 7th Jungbuk District Association President’s Cup Go Tournament”
A banner hung at the school gate.
“…I really came.”
On my way home after parting with my friends, I had searched for amateur Go tournaments.
That’s when I found one being held in my local district.
Coincidentally, it was scheduled for this Saturday.
The next day, I registered by text and transferred the 20,000 won entry fee.
The category was youth and adults under 55.
No rank restrictions.
Since it was a local event, the number of participants was small, and the prize money and scale weren’t very large.
“That’s why it felt less burdensome.”
I stood at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.
At that moment, a stale, acrid smell brushed past my nose.
“……”
Turning my head, I saw a middle-aged man openly smoking beside me.
“There are jerks everywhere.”
Even if it was the weekend, this was in front of an elementary school. There were children and parents at the crosswalk.
Fully aware of that, he kept exhaling smoke and even spat on the ground.
I wanted to say something, but held it in.
From my experience working at the bank, people like that don’t listen no matter what you say.
Engaging with them only brings trouble.
When the light changed, the man crossed first.
The parents and I deliberately kept our distance as we crossed.
Then—
“What the?”
The man, who had walked ahead, crushed his cigarette under his foot and entered the school.
Of all places, toward the gym where the Go tournament was being held.
“Just ignore it.”
I went in after a bit of time had passed.
The first thing that caught my eye was dozens of Go boards.
There were trophies and plaques displayed on the stage.
Some participants sat in front of boards with their eyes closed, meditating.
“This feels unfamiliar.”
The only competition I had ever entered before was an elementary school drawing contest.
And now, a Go tournament.
It still didn’t feel real.
I checked in with a staff member and took my assigned seat.
Soon—
“The matches will begin shortly. Participants, please take your assigned seats.”
As the announcement played, participants took their seats one by one.
Since it was a small tournament, there were only 16 participants in the under-55 division.
The format was a knockout tournament.
Komi was 6.5 points. Each player had 10 minutes, with 3 byo-yomi periods.
The only difference from online Go was that you had to press the timer yourself.
“Please begin the match.”
Participants opened their stone containers and drew for black and white.
The sound of stones hitting the board echoed throughout the hall.
But I—
“….”
There was no one sitting across from me.
While other matches had already passed 50 moves, my opponent still hadn’t shown up.
A staff member approached me as I sat there awkwardly.
“It seems player number 15 is absent. You win by default. Please inform the supervisor.”
“Oh, okay.”
Still dazed, I went to inform the referee.
They moved my name up on the tournament bracket posted on the wall.
“Quarterfinals.”
Winning my first match by default.
I didn’t know whether to feel happy or not.
I returned to my seat and waited.
Meanwhile, the match next to me had already finished, and they were clearing the stones.
One by one, the other matches concluded as well.
“We will now begin the quarterfinals.”
Once the eight players were decided, the staff reassigned seats.
My opponent was a well-built man in his 50s with a kind-looking face.
“Please begin the match.”
Finally, my first game.
I grabbed a handful of stones and determined colors.
“Black.”
I placed the stone container to my right and bowed slightly.
“Please go easy on me.”
“Likewise.”
I reached into the container and picked up a stone.
A cool sensation.
But the movement felt natural as I placed the first move.
“Ah.”
It felt different.
Unlike online Go, this felt like a real match.
Click.
I didn’t forget to press the timer after placing my stone.
That way, my time stopped and my opponent’s began.
“Let’s play confidently.”
More than winning or losing, I wanted to measure my skill.
Shaking off the tension, I calmly continued.
The game flowed more gently than expected.
His play matched his kind appearance.
A style focused on territory rather than fighting.
As we moved into the midgame—
“Huh? He’s cutting here?”
The calm white stones suddenly turned aggressive.
An unexpected attack.
But there was no reason to back down.
I preferred fighting, both in games and by nature.
Clashing head-on, the battle spread across the board.
The position grew complex, stones entangled everywhere.
“This move ends it.”
I cornered white, tightening the noose.
They could save their group, but would lose all the territory they had built.
“Hmm.”
The man groaned.
Scratching his head, he resigned.
“You’re good. There’s no opening at all.”
“Huh? You’re good too.”
“Good? I got crushed. I learned a lot.”
“Good game.”
He stood up and left.
“I won again.”
Despite it being my first real match, I felt calm.
It wasn’t easy, but I never really felt like I would lose.
I had maintained control the entire time.
I reported the result, and my name moved up to the semifinals.
Even if the first win was luck, this one was earned.
“One more win and I place.”
I had joined just to test my skill.
But now that I was winning, I wanted more.
“Move. Can’t you see someone’s behind you?”
A rough voice interrupted as someone shoved past me.
Dark circles, shabby appearance, and the smell of cigarettes—
It was the same man from the crosswalk.
“Number 2, Shin Byeongha. Win by resignation.”
He spoke informally to the referee, then lit a cigarette and walked out.
I watched him, dumbfounded, then looked at the bracket.
Shin Byeongha was in the semifinals.
If I made it to the finals, I would face him.
“Let’s win first.”
I could think about that after beating my semifinal opponent.
After a quick trip to the restroom, I returned to my seat.
The semifinalists, including Shin Byeongha, took their places.
“Please begin the match.”
As we drew stones—
Tap, tap.
Shin Byeongha, sitting cross-legged with one shoe off, shook his leg incessantly.
“What’s wrong with this guy?”
Even though he wasn’t my opponent, it was irritating.
Then—
Tap.
My opponent, who got black, placed the first move.
I refocused on my own game.
My semifinal opponent, a thin man, played cautiously.
He used his time well, expanding steadily without rushing.
“This is too plain.”
He avoided fights. When at a disadvantage, he compromised and retreated.
A stable style.
But also one that quickly secured big points.
“Can you even win like this?”
In other words, a style with few variables.
I gradually chipped away at his territory, widening the gap.
At this rate, it would be hard for him to turn things around later.
It wasn’t about skill—it just felt boring.
As I thought that, my eyes drifted to the adjacent board.
Click, click.
Shin Byeongha was removing captured stones.
Then his opponent immediately captured a group in return.
An exchange.
Both sides traded large groups in a fierce compromise.
“Go really is fun.”
Compared to that, my game felt dull.
Because of my opponent’s cautious style, my attention kept drifting.
“Huh? Was that stone there before?”
In the brief moment I had looked away—
The board in Shin Byeongha’s game looked slightly different.
Just one move.
A black stone that had been on the second line was now on the third line.
The problem was, that position was critical.
It blocked an endgame move worth over ten points.
“…No way.”
There was no way a stone moved on its own.
Which meant—he must have moved it deliberately.
But there was no proof.
“Entering byo-yomi.”
Meanwhile, my opponent’s time ran out, and his moves sped up.
Already behind, his position collapsed quickly.
“Shall we count?”
“Yes.”
He nodded with a dark expression, already knowing the outcome.
We sorted the territories and counted.
Unlike online Go, real matches required manual counting.
“Forty-seven points.”
“…With komi, sixty-nine and a half. I lose. Good game.”
“Good game.”
I won without incident.
My lips curved slightly upward.
Reaching the finals in my first tournament.
My heart pounded.
Even if I lost, second place was guaranteed.
Click, click.
Turning my head, I saw the adjacent match also entering counting.
“Black seems ahead.”
Even at a glance, black looked better.
“…I lost.”
As expected, Shin Byeongha won by eight and a half points.
But his opponent muttered in confusion.
“This is strange. I don’t remember playing there……”
Hearing that, I spoke without thinking.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“Are you talking about the black stone on the top side?”
“How did you know? I don’t remember placing it, but it was there.”
“I saw it too. The position changed mid-game.”
“…Then I guess I got played.”
He held his forehead.
“It’s called stone switching. Some gamblers use it in Go halls.”
“…That’s cheating, right? You should tell the referee.”
“No, it’s fine. The referee didn’t see it, and there’s no CCTV. Things like this happen in small tournaments. I’ll just let it go.”
He stood up slowly.
He looked more relieved than before.
“Thanks for telling me. Don’t end up like me… I hope you win.”
After saying that, he left.
“This isn’t right.”
In the distance, Shin Byeongha walked out again with a cigarette in his mouth.
After cheating his way to the top of the bracket—
Acting shamelessly like it was all his skill.
“I don’t want to lose to someone like that.”
For the first time since gaining this Go talent—
There was someone I absolutely wanted to defeat.