X-Tens and the Taeguk Mark
Kim Ji-woo.
The legend of Korean women’s compound archery.
Gold medalist in the individual event at the World Championships.
Bronze medalist in the team event at the World Championships.
She had retired, but once she had been one of the world’s most respected athletes.
Yet the reality back home had been different.
As a non-Olympic sport, almost no one in Korea knew her name.
Even the World Championships gold medal, the second-most prestigious title in the world, had gone unnoticed by the public.
‘……It has to become an official Olympic event.’
Her long-held dream.
And finally, that dream had come true.
Next year’s Olympics would feature both the individual and mixed compound events.
Two medals were on the line.
For decades, the public’s gaze had been fixed solely on recurve archery.
Today’s scene was deeply symbolic.
“Another X-10! Kim In-ha, six consecutive X-10s!”
The male commentator could barely contain his excitement.
The broadcast screen zoomed in on the arrow that had just pierced the exact center of the target.
Kim Ji-woo let out a long breath.
“……I’ve never seen anyone hit an X-10 like that in these kinds of winds.”
“It’s that impressive?”
“Yes. The wind at Jumoong International Archery Hall is notoriously strong and unpredictable this time of year. It was one of the places I dreaded most as an active player. And yet here…”
The camera panned back to Kim In-ha on the shooting line.
Steady breathing on the line.
Release.
Thwack!
“……Another ten points.”
The commentator was at a loss for words.
Kim Ji-woo gave a slow nod.
“His pace is terrifying. More than half of those ten points are X-10s. This is… an unprecedented record even in men’s compound.”
Recurve and compound.
Both events used the same 12.2 mm target diameter.
But compound demanded even greater precision.
Specifically, the number of X-10s.
Recurve used them only for tiebreakers, while compound treated them as the decisive factor in ranking.
Thwack!
“Another ten points.”
This time it was not an X-10.
Yet he had never once dropped below ten.
Total: 150 points.
His opponent: 147.
“Kim In-ha advances to the tournament final. An almost perfect match.”
Round of 16.
Quarterfinals.
Semifinals.
All three had the talent to become national team members.
Yet all three had fallen to Kim In-ha.
“Commentator Kim Ji-woo, how do you feel about Kim In-ha today?”
“It’s… beyond words. In fact, the gap between national team athletes is often just a single sheet of paper. A tiny adjustment, a split-second decision—it all comes down to that. But…”
She paused.
‘He doesn’t waver.’
Kim Ji-woo quietly stared at Kim In-ha’s shooting line.
Just before release.
A slight shift in the wind.
But Kim In-ha never looked through his scope.
Instead, he held his breath and quietly drew the bow.
Thwack!
As always, the arrow buried itself in the center of the target—an X-10.
“Kim In-ha is truly overwhelming today. I can’t imagine him losing to any of the world’s top-ranked players from India or the United States.”
It was no exaggeration.
There was not a single Korean athlete in the global top twenty.
Unlike recurve, Korea still occupied a peripheral position in compound.
Yet today, Kim In-ha’s arrows had been flawless.
Perfect shots with no mistakes whatsoever.
It was not merely skill—it was mastery of the mind.
“Kim In-ha opens the final with an X-10!”
The commentator erupted in admiration.
The opponent in the final was Lee Chung-myung.
Last year’s national team member.
Currently ranked fourth.
His resolve entering this match was different.
One victory could change everything.
Win and become an official national team member.
Otherwise, just a reserve.
“……Eight consecutive X-10s! His momentum doesn’t falter.”
Kim Ji-woo felt a chill run down her spine.
‘He’s gone mad.’
Lee Chung-myung was also a superb athlete.
Otherwise he would never have worn the Taeguk Mark.
But right now, he was being completely dominated.
Crosswind.
Sidewind.
Even as the air constantly shifted, Kim In-ha did not waver by even a millimeter.
In that instant, one word flashed through Kim Ji-woo’s mind.
‘Ferocity.’
Someone who had once held the top spot.
And someone who took that top spot for granted.
It was the same on the Go board.
‘The Unbeaten Knight.’
One of the many nicknames that had defined him.
Somehow, the image overlapped.
Of course, Go and archery were entirely different disciplines.
Yet for some reason, the thought that this man could lose never entered her mind.
“Consecutive X-10s.”
The commentator trailed off, still in awe.
Kim Ji-woo took a slow breath.
And spoke with absolute certainty.
“……If Kim In-ha becomes a national team member, he will truly shake the world.”
* * *
Congratulations, you have been selected as the national representative for compound archery.
You have become the second person to be selected as the national representative for compound archery with general citizen qualifications.
You have obtained the qualification to participate in the Summer Olympics.
Congratulations, you have been awarded a Gold Roulette ticket.
Congratulations, you have been awarded a Talent Expansion Ticket.
I felt it.
The tension radiating from Lee Chung-myung on the shooting line.
He was clearly pouring every ounce of concentration into catching up to me.
I smiled quietly to myself.
‘I’m not being chased. I’m the one pulling ahead.’
Both the pursuer and the pursued feel the pressure.
But I felt none of it.
Nor did I have any reason to.
Archery was a static competition.
Self-overcoming.
In that sense, it was even simpler than Go.
I didn’t need to read my opponent’s moves.
It meant there were no variables.
‘I just have to trust my instincts.’
I cleared every unnecessary thought from my mind.
I simply felt the flow of the wind, the tension in my fingertips, and the center of gravity in my body.
‘One final shot.’
Only me and the target.
Precise setup.
Reading the wind as data.
Finally, I trusted the sensation at the tip of my fingers.
Thwack!
The arrow tore through the air and buried itself in the target.
“……An X-10.”
A stunned voice came from behind the judge.
150 points.
Out of fifteen arrows, thirteen were X-10s.
I glanced sideways at the next line.
Lee Chung-myung had released his string with an expressionless face.
His concentration was suffocating.
The perfect arrow.
Thwack!
149 points.
He had shot his final X-10 and was still trying to catch up, but he could not surpass my score.
“Ah…”
He lowered his head slightly.
To be precise, he was swallowing his emotions.
He bit his lip once, then lifted his head.
A bow.
I bowed respectfully in return.
A formal greeting.
It was none of his business how I viewed him.
Lee Chung-myung gave a small nod in response, then quietly gathered his equipment.
‘With this, first place is mine.’
My chest felt tight with emotion.
The three-day compound national team selection final.
Total points: 48.
By securing first place regardless of total score, I had earned the right to wear the Taeguk Mark.
Right at that moment—
*ding!*
A system message appeared.
Congratulations, you have been selected as the national representative for compound archery.
You have become the second person to be selected as the national representative for compound archery with general citizen qualifications.
You have obtained the qualification to participate in the Summer Olympics.
Congratulations, you have been awarded a Gold Roulette ticket.
Congratulations, you have been awarded a Talent Expansion Ticket.
Wait, a Talent Expansion Ticket?
The next message appeared before my eyes.
I could not look away.
Currently, you possess six talents: Archery (S), Go (A+), Korean Cuisine (B), Chinese (B), Shogi (C+), Chess (C+).
Currently, you can possess up to six talents.
Using the Talent Expansion Ticket will increase the number of talents you can possess by one.
I had no idea.
Or rather, I had never imagined there was even a limit on talent slots.
That meant I had never been able to spin the Roulette even when I wanted to, because the conditions had never been met.
‘Just when I needed it most.’
I breathed a silent sigh of relief.
There was still time before next year’s Olympics.
Winter training camp had been scheduled in the meantime, but actually using the Archery talent would wait until spring.
Winter itself was not an ideal season for shooting a bow.
So for now, I would simply have to live as professional Go player Kim In-ha again.
Yet that was a disappointment I could not shake.
‘I need a talent to fill the gap.’
Whether Go or archery, the stage had grown larger.
I wanted to expand my influence not only domestically but also overseas—especially in North America and Europe.
The first thing that came to mind was Chess.
Although it was only C+ rank, with the Talent Enhancement Ticket it was more than enough.
And one more thing.
A popular talent that would boost my domestic recognition.
Go and archery were too niche.
I needed something that everyone could relate to and would become a talking point.
Fortunately, the Talent Expansion Ticket had arrived at the perfect moment.
“Kim In-ha, please confirm your final score sheet.”
At the judge’s voice, I lifted my head.
I would deal with my thoughts later.
I checked the score sheet, walked to the target, and retrieved the arrows.
I headed to the booth to confirm the final rankings, then turned with a satisfied smile.
“……”
Players hanging their heads or being comforted by their coaches while crying caught my eye.
The athletes who had been eliminated in the competition.
It was sad, but if someone became a national team member, then someone else had to be eliminated.
I looked away and walked silently toward the photo wall.
Already dozens of reporters were waiting there.
“Please bring Kim In-ha.”
The host’s voice echoed through the venue.
Camera flashes went off in rapid succession, and a field broadcast microphone was placed in front of me.
“You have earned the right to wear the Taeguk Mark as first place in the second selection. Please share your thoughts.”
I took a short breath and spoke in a measured tone.
“I will include compound archery in the Korean archery that the world calls the strongest.”
There was a momentary silence.
Then the reporters’ hands moved busily.
“I never thought you could do it. Not only in Go, but also in compound. Is this the difference between talents?”
It was a difficult question for me.
I could not tell the truth.
But I did not want the athletes who had worked hard for me to be belittled with the word “talent.”
“……Talent is nothing more than a key that opens a door. Today, it was simply that my arrows were more accurate than anyone else’s.”
Yes, today.
On any other day, the result might have been different.
I added humility and respect to my words.
“I will be competing in the Olympics. Is the goal still gold?”
“Yes. I didn’t become a representative to go on vacation.”
I quietly turned my gaze forward.
“I will challenge, succeed, and bring home a medal. Exactly as I have always done.”
I slowly smiled.
A quiet confidence that only someone certain of themselves could wear.
I added one final line.
“Winning is my job.”
Instantly, the quiet venue erupted with shutter sounds.
The answer the reporters had been waiting for.
And—
my sincere words, without a single lie.
* * *
Hilton Hotel.
I parked my car in the lot, slipped on my shoes, and straightened my suit.
A perfectly tailored suit.
A silhouette that fit my newly improved body perfectly.
I had even stopped by the salon earlier to have my hair styled neatly.
I took the elevator down to the first-floor lobby.
The first thing that caught my eye was a long golden velvet rope cordoning off a VIP area.
A sign printed in elegant serif font hung on a stand.
-Korean Go Awards Ceremony-
A venue honoring professional Go players who had shown outstanding performance over the past year.
An event introducing next year’s official sponsor.
And for me…
‘…The day I receive my system rewards.’