Chapter 6
Chapter 6
“Participants in the under-55 youth and adult division, please begin the finals.”
Among the four divisions, Shin Byeongha and Inha drew their stones.
Inha held a total of nine stones.
Shin Byeongha guessed the odd number correctly and took black.
Inha bowed politely before the match.
Shin Byeongha glanced at him but didn’t even bother to nod.
“If I crush this punk, the money’s mine.”
The first-place prize was 500,000 won.
Considering it was a small local tournament, it wasn’t a bad amount.
On top of that, baduk halls were slowly disappearing.
Places and people to play betting games with were becoming scarce, so he couldn’t afford to miss out on easy money like this.
“Heh, I’ll have some fun with Madam Kim for once.”
But first, he had to beat the young guy in front of him.
Shin Byeongha picked up a stone and placed the opening move.
High approach.
A move that favors influence over territory.
It wasn’t even common in modern play.
“There’s no way a green kid like him knows the komoku joseki.”
A tricky variation stemming from that position.
A so-called unconventional move.
A way of deliberately twisting the usual sequence to shake the opponent.
Tap.
But unexpectedly, Inha remained calm.
He handled not just the probing move, but also seemed completely familiar with the joseki and overall opening.
“So he knows a bit.”
Shin Byeongha spread the board wide, stirring chaos everywhere.
As if he was leaving the game unfinished.
Poking here and there, leaving possibilities open without settling shape.
A messy battle.
Unsettled groups of black and white tangled all over the board.
This was intentional.
The more complicated the position became, the more his reading ability, honed through gambling games, would shine.
But—
“W-what is this guy?”
Things weren’t going the way Shin Byeongha expected.
After a hundred moves, the quiet white suddenly revealed its fangs and tore into black’s weaknesses.
Two unsettled black groups.
Three unsettled white groups.
It should have been a battle of momentum and reading, yet he couldn’t find a way out.
Instead of attacking white, he was struggling just to stabilize his own stones.
“Damn it. I need to act before it’s too late.”
Shin Byeongha glanced at the referee.
The referee had stepped away to observe another final match.
Shin Byeongha began using every annoying trick he could think of—shaking his leg barefoot, blowing his nose, rubbing stones together to make grating noises—drawing attention away.
Swoosh.
At the moment he placed a stone, his little finger subtly pushed another black stone.
From the fourth line to the fifth.
It was a small shift, but it completely overturned the position.
Black’s large group came to life, and white was unfairly dragged into trouble.
“Got it.”
Only then did Shin Byeongha relax.
Now he could comfortably attack white’s groups and take profit.
Just as he was about to press the advantage—
A strange sense of unease crept in.
Instinctively, he looked up.
His eyes met Inha’s.
“...!”
A dry, emotionless gaze.
As if he knew everything—and didn’t care.
“That cocky bastard.”
That expression twisted Shin Byeongha’s insides.
It felt like he was being looked down on from above.
Grinding his teeth, Shin Byeongha launched a fierce counterattack on white’s group.
With the earlier cheat securing his group, he had nothing to fear.
And past move 115, he succeeded in cornering white’s groups.
All that remained was to finish them off and enjoy the look on Inha’s face.
Tap.
A white stone dropped, striking a vital point.
A perfect move.
It broke through black’s encirclement while also threatening black’s still-unstable group.
“Not happening, you bastard.”
Tap!
There was no need to count the score.
He would annihilate white’s group right here.
Shin Byeongha launched a ruthless offensive, tightening the noose.
About twenty moves later—
He froze.
His hand stopped midair.
He couldn’t place the next move.
Those desperate moves he thought meaningless—
White stones, which he had dismissed, were now tightening around his main group at exactly the right points.
“N-no way… was this his plan from the beginning?”
That main group was the key.
If it died, all three of white’s groups would live.
It absolutely couldn’t die.
But it was already caught in a capturing race, with no apparent escape.
“Damn it!”
He had gotten careless.
He had already won this game—
But he got carried away and underestimated his opponent.
“…Should I just flip the board?”
The thought came suddenly.
And it didn’t seem like a bad idea.
“Yeah… that’s better. It’s just a small local tournament. I can just say it was an accident.”
In small tournaments, cheating wasn’t strictly enforced.
Without clear evidence, punishment was difficult, and if he insisted, a rematch was possible.
“Hmm, excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
Rubbing his stomach as if in pain, Shin Byeongha stood up.
Bang!
As he uncrossed his legs and rose, his knee slammed into the small table.
At the same time, his palm pushed upward from underneath.
“…!”
Clatter.
The board tilted, and the stones scattered.
They spilled off the board, the remaining ones losing all recognizable shape.
“Oh dear… what should I do…”
Shin Byeongha clutched his head, pretending to be troubled.
But the corners of his mouth curled upward.
“I knew it.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
I had completely crushed Shin Byeongha with pure skill.
I even overlooked his stone manipulation on purpose.
Because I was confident.
I could handle three weak groups and still bring down his main group.
That, I believed, was the proper punishment for someone who relied on such cheap tricks.
“What’s going on here!”
The referee and officials rushed over.
“Well, you see… my legs gave out and I accidentally…”
Shin Byeongha put on an obvious act.
“Did no one see?”
There were a few spectators, but they remained silent.
His actions had been subtle enough that no one seemed certain it was intentional.
“All the stones are scattered… this is a problem.”
“…We’ll need to discuss this first.”
The referee hesitated, then spoke carefully.
“Would it be possible to reconstruct the game?”
“Impossible. Maybe the opening, but I’m old. My memory’s not what it used to be.”
Shin Byeongha shook his head.
“Mr. Kim Inha, would it be difficult for you as well?”
The referee didn’t sound hopeful.
“It's possible.”
My voice was quiet, but firm.
For a split second, Shin Byeongha’s expression tightened.
“I remember everything.”
Reconstruction meant replaying every move from start to finish.
And it was all clear in my mind.
“Really? The game progressed quite far. Please, go ahead.”
Still doubtful, the referee gestured.
I sat at an empty board nearby.
And placed the first black stone.
“The high approach.”
Black and white stones began to alternate again.
Tap.
Tap.
10 moves, 20 moves, 30…
With each stone placed, the surroundings seemed to grow quieter.
“…Wait, this move.”
My hand paused.
“Is something wrong?”
the referee asked.
“Looks like the young man’s getting confused.”
Shin Byeongha smirked.
“Mr. Shin Byeongha, do you remember this move?”
Move 73.
The one he had shifted.
From the fourth line to the fifth.
The move that had distorted the entire game.
“I remember placing it here. Just confirming.”
Shin Byeongha’s face stiffened.
“Between these two, where did you play?”
“I… I think it was the other spot.”
Panicked, Shin Byeongha pointed to the moved position.
“Here?”
“Y-yeah… probably.”
I nodded and placed the stone there.
Murmurs spread among the referee and spectators.
“Why would he play there?”
“That’s a terrible move.”
It made no sense.
A move that lost initiative and value.
Only then did Shin Byeongha realize his mistake.
“Damn it.”
The referee’s eyes sharpened.
“…He moved a stone.”
As the reconstruction passed move 170, suspicion turned into certainty.
Then—
“…What? He plays there?”
The referee adjusted his glasses.
A seemingly reckless move.
But in truth—
A perfect vital point.
A move that pierced through the entire position.
“…Incredible.”
Even as a retired professional, he could tell.
“This isn’t amateur level.”
The reading, the precision—
Even he couldn’t play like that.
And yet—
He was witnessing it here, in a small local tournament.
“…Remarkable.”
“That’s everything.”
I withdrew my hand from the bowl.
Over 200 moves.
Not a single mistake.
“I actually did it…”
Even I was surprised.
“Unbelievable…”
“And he turned that game around?”
“He’s really strong.”
The praise made my chest tighten.
I had never received attention like this before.
“Mr. Shin Byeongha.”
The referee spoke.
“Is this reconstruction accurate?”
“How could anyone remember all that!”
Shin Byeongha snapped.
“I see. Then let me confirm one thing.”
“…What?”
“This move here. Are you certain about it?”
His face darkened.
It was the moved stone.
“I-it might be right… or not.”
“Then the reconstruction is wrong?”
“How would I know! I said I don’t remember!”
“Understood. Then we’ll verify it directly.”
The referee turned to the staff.
“You took photos earlier for promotion, right?”
“Yes.”
“Check if their board was captured.”
“And request CCTV footage from the school.”
At that, Shin Byeongha’s face turned pale.
“What the hell are you doing! You suspecting me?!”
“We’re only confirming.”
“That’s the same thing!”
He exploded in anger.
“You think I’ll let this slide?! You picked the wrong guy!”
“Mr. Shin Byeongha.”
“Move!”
He stormed out.
Watching his back—
it overlapped with all the troublesome customers I had dealt with at the bank.
“…That feels refreshing.”
A strange sense of relief washed over me.
The hall fell silent.
Then the referee approached.
“Could we speak somewhere else for a moment?”