Shaking the Dragon
Liu Cheng’s 8-dan routine was simple.
Wake up in the morning, a light walk, breakfast, shower, then meditation. It had become a fixed pattern during the long hotel stay for the Chinese tournament.
Perfect, he thought, feeling a deep satisfaction.
It was nothing like the hotels in China. Every Korean hotel had facilities, food, and service without a single thing missing. This was the most satisfying environment he had experienced all year. He had slept well and was in peak condition. Defeat was something he could not even imagine for the current Liu Cheng 8-dan.
He changed into a suit and descended to the lobby.
The place was bustling with officials and journalists from various countries. A few Chinese journalists approached him.
“Player Liu Cheng, is an interview possible?”
“As long as it’s short.”
He nodded.
“How is your condition today?”
“It’s good.”
A straightforward answer.
“Does the remark about teaching etiquette in Go still stand?”
“Yes.”
He replied briefly, meeting the journalist’s eyes.
At that moment, one journalist raised a hand.
“If you lose, what do you plan to do?”
All eyes turned to him.
The pronunciation was awkward.
The appearance was exotic.
The Korean journalist wearing the Taeguk mark.
“Perhaps you have any intention to apologize for ignoring Kim In-ha?”
A brief silence fell.
The Chinese journalists glared at him fiercely, the air turning icy.
Liu Cheng 8-dan spoke quietly.
“Apologies, but.”
A beat.
“Neither of those questions is possible.”
He cut his gaze and turned away.
The journalists’ shutters clicked.
The camera capturing the scene recorded his back.
Following the guide, he crossed the controlled corridor.
Upon arriving at the tournament hall, he went straight to the broadcasting Go board on the stage.
His opponent was already seated.
Kim In-ha.
Their eyes met.
But he did not lower his head.
And Liu Cheng had no intention of doing so either.
A clash of pride.
But at that moment.
“Luggage, has it been packed?”
Rhythmic, precise pronunciation.
Not a light joke, but clear mockery beneath it.
‘…What did I just hear?’
Liu Cheng’s steps halted.
The expression remained the same, but the eyes trembled slightly.
It was not a mishearing.
Chinese.
He felt that one word shaking him himself.
“You can speak Chinese?”
A question as if disbelieving.
He stood there blankly, staring straight ahead.
So, had the incident at the restaurant yesterday been planned?
At that moment, Kim In-ha leaned back casually and said.
“You do, right? Then what?”
This time in Korean.
Calm and serene tone.
Even if you don’t understand, the provocative tone clearly conveyed.
A feeling of being toyed with.
‘This bastard…?’
A crack appeared in Liu Cheng’s expression.
A subtle sense of something splitting inside.
For a moment, his composure shattered.
A hot, rough surge rose up.
The routine meticulously prepared since morning.
The concentration and preparation stacked solidly.
All of it was being shaken by that one word.
“Ha…”
He took a long breath.
Then sat on the chair without saying a word.
His chest burned.
He was angry.
Controlling emotions is a basic requirement for professional Go players before a match.
But not now.
‘That bastard…?’
“Bangzi” — a derogatory term for Koreans.
More than wanting to win, an impulse to crush.
That feeling flowed into his fingertips.
At that time, the referee’s voice rang out.
“Let’s begin the quarterfinal match of the Ciel Bank Cup World Masters. Please take your seats.”
The main broadcast began, and both players received dry greetings.
Clack.
Stones crossed from both sides.
Kim In-ha, Black.
Liu Cheng 8-dan, White.
Clack.
First move: a star point.
White responded with a diagonal small knight.
Liu Cheng’s style was ‘Go that strangles the opponent to death with cold calculation’.
From opening to endgame, based on thorough shape judgment and territory calculation that resembled AI.
But he did not avoid fighting.
The style that used the opponent’s greed when losing in territory to make them lose.
A Go that highlighted cold, dry reading.
But today, it was different from the start.
It was fierce.
Emotions were embedded in the stones.
Clack.
Immediately attached to the star point.
Followed by the day-letter.
Offensive continued.
Not taking territory, but pressuring Black.
A move that dared not to be made without perfect life calculation.
‘Yield. Resist.’
Liu Cheng tried to crush Black using emotions too.
Clack.
But Kim In-ha calmly took it.
Blocked the change in advance, smoothly flowed the flow.
Just one move.
That move that could avoid early fighting.
Kim In-ha found it exactly.
Liu Cheng’s lips trembled very subtly, almost invisible.
‘Avoid this too.’
Clack.
Attached again.
Leading to a thick battle.
Not a move that calmly built the fight, but one-sided pressure.
It looked emotional, but it was a researched change.
A battle formation prepared after calculation.
Clack.
Kim In-ha.
He read that intention.
The move was cold, the flow restrained.
In the situation seeming to surround, he cleverly escaped and settled.
A response that was disgustingly calm.
But also quickly judged the shape and flexibly escaped.
First 40 moves.
Liu Cheng pressed.
Not just swung emotionally without calculation.
But Kim In-ha did not get swung.
He gave up some territory but kept the possibility to aim for the middle game.
Clack.
Again, gently pushed.
Without provoking, without avoiding.
Mysteriously one tempo faster.
He felt an inexplicable unease.
‘Shape isn’t bad.’
Positions of stones.
Thick and thin shapes.
Momentum spreading to the center.
‘…Why is this so uncomfortable?’
Emotions led, but the foundation was researched moves.
No loss.
Rather, slight gain.
But as moves were played, the impression that the shape was tilting did not disappear.
Flexible tames.
Unforced pushes.
While subtly giving up territory, building power.
In that natural flow, the hidden intention.
Late realization came.
‘Could it be… from the beginning aiming for the center?’
The hardest to read change space.
Center where the formation breaks.
Among countless choices, one mistake is fatal.
Kim In-ha was guiding the white stones there.
‘Damn it.’
Liu Cheng hardened his jaw.
He admits to being emotionally driven.
But he is a seasoned pro.
Did not rely only on emotions.
Thoroughly prepared, pressed Black with researched moves.
Looking at the result, no loss.
Rather, ahead in territory.
But.
‘Missed the big picture.’
The remaining part immersed in local fighting, the vision to read the overall board flow narrowed.
Won a small fight but could lose the war in shape.
Liu Cheng clenched his teeth.
This isn’t the Go he was playing.
The Go that stacked territory and crushed the opponent’s greed.
But now, he lost thickness after taking a bit of territory.
Clack.
One of Black’s moves gnawed at him bit by bit.
And kept asking.
Are you going to give up the center like this?
Then you’ll lose, so you have to do something, right?
The voice coming through the stones from Kim In-ha.
Liu Cheng’s fingertips trembled.
‘Am I… being eaten by my own Go?’
Cold fingertips.
Unfading heat.
Something twisted inside him again.
‘Damn it.’
This Go was already being eaten.
* * *
The romantic age.
The civilized inheritance of barbarism.
‘Sensei Park said that.’
Not long ago.
Playing Go while smoking cigarettes, lying on the chair, humming songs during matches.
Now unimaginable.
Psychological warfare.
A fight outside the board to disturb the opponent.
“It’s not as bad now, but knowing how to use it was also the era of a player’s ability.”
Bad manners.
But not foul play.
You can be pointed at with fingers, but not rule violation.
Back then, it was like that.
An era where it was treated as part of the match.
I stored that in my heart and reflected it in my own way.
‘No reason not to use it?’
The tool I have.
In my own way.
So I used it too.
Received interviews.
Emotionally stimulated.
Used my Chinese talent to shake Liu Cheng 8-dan.
No guilt like that.
Pros say results. Proving by winning is being a pro.
And most importantly.
‘I started the controversy.’
I just return what I received.
On the Go board.
Outside the Go board.
In the most humiliating way, most respectfully.
The result was as expected.
Center.
The picture I built by guiding and stacking the flow.
That was my home ground.
A terrible thickness.
Style that penetrates early, middle, and late game.
Shaking, reading, intuition and senses.
The stage where these three shine the most was completed.
Clack.
Even though he knew it was a life and death, he penetrated there.
To prevent the center from hardening into territory.
‘Caught.’
As intended.
As pulled out.
I placed the stone as if waiting.
In the most cruel way on the board.
Surround.
Block.
Close.
The path was blocked.
Forced into a shape where taming is impossible, the tighter the noose as he flees.
‘You can’t play this Go well, can you?’
It collapses.
No matter how much time spent in long thinking, it’s meaningless here.
Shape is messy.
Connections are cut.
The shape is collapsed to the point of embarrassment to look at with eyes open.
‘Collapsed.’
Clack.
With my one move, the breathing of the central white group was cut.
And.
“…”
One white stone falling into the stone jar.
Trembling hands.
Light, dry cracking sound.
Inside it, the sound of pride shattered.
Silence.
Even the referee who came to confirm resignation hesitated for a moment.
Swoosh.
Liu Cheng 8-dan, biting his lip, pushed the chair and stood up.
In the moment of trying to turn without minimum match manners.
“Before leaving, learn some manners first.”
Clear Chinese.
Accurate accent.
And my head bowing respectfully.
It was a greeting to show that you lost in skill and manners.
His expression that was looking at me with stopped gaze distorted.
“You…。… Be a little humble.”
A voice drained of energy.
Tone with emotions.
A word trying to hold onto the fallen pride at the last.
I quietly smiled.
“Say it after losing……… Not very fitting.”
Without a hint of sarcasm, exaggeration.
Without stimulation or mockery.
Just a quiet declaration of mine that proved the result.
Liu Cheng couldn’t say anything, glared at me intensely, and turned.
Click.
The camera shutters clicked incessantly behind his receding back.
-Ding!
At that moment.
The system notification chime rang as usual.
[30th Ciel Bank Cup World Masters Quarterfinals Advancement.]
[You are continuing your remarkable achievements.]
[Entered the world tournament quarterfinals with amateur qualification.]
[Points for achievements are added.]
[‘Gold Roulette Ticket’ automatically upgrades to ‘Platinum Roulette Ticket’.]
[‘Platinum Roulette Ticket’ can receive rewards by adding achievements in the future. Would you like to receive it now? Yes or No]
I quietly smiled.
This was the flow I wanted.
No.
Without room for hesitation, I chose to add rewards.
It wasn’t over yet.
Since I’ve come this far…
‘I have to aim for the championship too.’