I Have Too Many Money-Making Talents - Chapter 108

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Too Many Profitable Talents — Chapter 108
The opening had concluded, and the middle game had begun.
Terrain Assessment.
The true intensification of Piece Combat.
The collision of tactics and strategy.
The complexity of Move Reading increased, and this phase was where a player’s style shone most brightly.
‘I’ll draw out my own style.’
Intuition.
Sense.
Destabilization.
And I opened “space”—an element unique to chess, not present in Baduk.
I deliberately induced piece exchanges, and in the gaps that remained, I pushed my rook forward.
An open file.
‘A rook is… the chariot in long-range chess.’
Straight, unbroken pressure.
A form of control impossible to express with Go stones.
The empty square where a pawn had vanished.
I pierced that gap with my rook while simultaneously advancing my queen.
The most powerful piece, moving both straight lines and diagonals.
I had forced that very queen into an exchange with her.
‘What will you do?’
White’s initiative in chess was even more controlling than black’s advantage in Baduk.
From my position, holding white, a queen exchange was nearly a loss.
Yet I’d chosen this strategy because of the dominance that had carried over from the opening.
Sara Linova hesitated for a moment, then moved her queen as if in agreement.
Slide.
As the queens were exchanged, the balance of the board tilted once more.
‘Now there are no more variables.
The risks have been eliminated.
On the basis of piece superiority, I deployed an offensive centered on a rook and knight combination.
Slide, slide.
Black’s pawn structure.
Fine fractures appeared in the system that blocked the center.
I drove into that weakness.
My dominant momentum.
Yet at some point, her play changed noticeably.
Her bishop retreated, and her knight fell back.
By any measure, desperate moves.
Or more precisely, an act of playing desperate.
‘…It’s a trick.’
I was right.
The space I had targeted was a trap she had deliberately left open.
Open space, lure the pieces, counterattack.
I had no choice but to withdraw my move.
The moment I did, her counteroffensive began as if she’d been waiting.
Slide.
She hunted down pawns and pushed through the center.
Keenly.
Sharply.
She severed the connections between my pieces, threatening straight lines, diagonals, and check routes all at once.
‘Ah.’
Just a single retreat.
Yet that one move had thrown my sequence into disorder.
Her pieces were woven together organically, but my coordination was broken.
‘There’s still a chance.’
Yet the balance had already grown uncertain.
I had clearly taken the initiative, but the momentum had leveled out again.
The position had entered the endgame.
In chess, the phase where most pieces have been exchanged, leaving only the king and a few pieces on the board.
I had one rook, one knight, and one pawn.
Sara Linova had a rook and a bishop, and a king.
A subtle difference in piece combination and positioning.
‘I need to isolate her king.’
I tightened the space.
I blocked her king’s escape route and reduced the radius of my pieces’ activity.
Nothing went as planned.
She spent time constructing her moves methodically.
She looped her rook, exchanged pieces, and pushed her king forward.
I advanced a pawn and gambled on victory, but the decisive breakthrough never materialized.
And above all.
‘Time…… was running out.’
The clock on the rapid game was closing in on me.
In baduk terms, it was ten-second speed reading mode.
Precise move reading was impossible.
Now I could only rely on instinct.
Swift.
Sara Linova slipped through the rook’s gap and drove her king toward the center.
There was no breakthrough left.
I held my rook and defended with a pawn, and she pulled her bishop back in turn.
Our kings came to a halt facing each other.
The moment when any advance became impossible.
Ding!
Draw by Stalemate.
The message appeared on the chessboard above the monitor.
A draw.
Her king wasn’t in check, but she had no legal moves available.
I held my breath for a moment, then exhaled quietly.
‘……It’s as good as losing.’
From opening through middle game, I’d seized the flow and shaken her position exactly as planned.
But I couldn’t finish.
I couldn’t break through.
Even with white, a draw.
‘This is a grandmaster’s true strength.’
She was undeniably different.
A single move.
A single turn in the flow.
The ability to read it and turn it around.
Intuition, feel, and the weight of experience.
An entirely different world of chess.
I leaned back in my chair, tilted my head, and stared at the ceiling.
‘But I did gain something.’
The sense I’d built up over years of baduk.
Transplanting it into chess, I’d glimpsed at least some possibility.
In that moment.
The chat window beside the chessboard flickered.
Sara Linova : Well played. Much better than I expected.
I was dazed.
After a game ends, Chess.com usually wraps things up with ‘GG (Good game)’ or similar.
But that message.
A clear expression of respect and recognition.
Even though her rating was higher and her skill superior, when she acknowledged the match like that.
I could tell it was a sincere message.
I placed my hands on the keyboard.
Mumyeong : Thanks for the game.
A moment later, a message appeared in the chat: ‘User is typing…’
Soon, her final words appeared.
Sara Linova : Looking forward to meeting you in person, Kim.
She left that message and vanished from the custom room.
I stared blankly at the screen.
It could have been nothing more than a casual greeting.
But before our match, she hadn’t even offered the courtesy of a formal greeting.
You could sense it in the air.
This wasn’t mere politeness.
It was something close to genuine recognition—the kind a Grand Master bestows.
‘……I’ve been acknowledged.’
She, who would soon appear as my second partner in the upcoming Checkmate broadcast.
She saw my talent and potential as worth something real.
As someone to travel through Europe with, preparing for battles against the world’s elite.
That was when it happened.
Ding!
A familiar chime, and the system window opened.
[You have achieved a draw against Grand Master Sara Linova in a Rapid match.]
[This match is an unofficial custom bout. However, your first confrontation with a Grand Master will be recorded in your achievements.]
[Congratulations—the system has detected the potential for a ‘new talent evolution’ in you.]
“It showed up already?”
My initial shock lasted only a moment.
Then, quietly, my lips curled upward.
“……This is going to get interesting.”
Just as it had with Baduk.
I’d found that same spark in chess.
Not leaning on talent.
Not following the familiar path.
Finding my own moves.
The thread that signals the beginning of that long journey—talent evolution.

* * *
The Masked Singer recording day.
Chaos from the start of morning.
After the final touches at a private makeup studio, I headed to the Broadcasting Station in full stage costume.
As I got into the car the production team sent, I thought about it.
‘This part of the day is always the worst.’
It’s a necessary precaution to keep my identity hidden, but the long travel distances wear on me.
‘……Jung Soo-yeon mentioned I should seriously consider hiring a manager.’
There’s no major inconvenience right now, but as my schedule keeps expanding, her point makes sense.
Having someone else manage my time.
That means I can focus my energy on what actually matters.
‘My range has expanded so much.’
Just for Baduk, I’m traveling between China and Japan for professional tournaments.
With chess, the main stage is in the West, so I have to move between Europe and the United States.
Maybe it really is time to spend money to buy back time.
After arriving at the Broadcasting Station, I ran through rehearsal.
We finished the sound checks and final details, then I returned to the waiting room.
The moment I took off my mask and caught my breath, my phone vibrated.
It was Yeon-hee.
Yeon-hee: Why aren’t you answering! You’re Checkmate, right?
Me: Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?
Yeon-hee: I have free time, it’s fine.
Me: You realize a supervisor could catch you like that?
Yeon-hee: Look at you—dodging the whole time, changing the subject.
I couldn’t help laughing.
Someone more curious about me than I am about myself. Someone who searches for my name more often than I do.
That was Yeon-hee.
Me: What are you doing Wednesday?
Yeon-hee: ……Wednesday? Why?
Me: Come by after work?
Yeon-hee: Huh? Don’t tell me…… to your place?
What was she thinking?
I typed the next message right away.
Me: No, my office. It’s not far from your Officetel.
Yeon-hee: Okay! I’ll be there! And this time—buy me real alcohol, not something else! Promise!
I smiled faintly and turned off my phone screen.
After resting for a while, I heard a knock.
“We’re starting the recording! Please head to the studio!”
I stood up at once and made my way to the studio.
A staff member guided me to the Mask King’s Seat on the platform beside the stage.
‘……This feels strange.’
The Mask King’s seat, waiting for challengers.
It was merely a symbolic place—nothing special about the chair itself.
A slightly elevated platform, slowly rotating lights.
But then.
Such things change how a person feels.
‘I want to keep sitting here.’
Soon the stage lights came up.
Main host Kim Woo-jin appeared, and the recording began in earnest.
There was nothing special for me to do.
There was no particular role for me to play.
When the cameras turned toward me, I responded with casual charm; the rest of the time I simply watched the stage in silence.
Yet my eyes remained focused.
One performer in particular caught my attention.
‘Moonlight Artisan.’
A youthful voice layered with emotion.
Tender sensibility, a stable lower register.
A deep maturity felt through the performance on stage.
Whatever song was chosen, they reinterpreted it in their own style.
‘……The resonance of the sound itself is different.’
As expected, they advanced easily through all three rounds,
and crushed a solo artist from the nineties with an overwhelming vote difference to become the challenger for the Mask King’s title.
‘This won’t be easy.’
I breathed in slowly and steadily.
I had no great attachment to the Mask King title.
But.
I wanted to put on a performance worthy of the Mask King before stepping down.
Host Kim Woo-jin took the stage.
“So we’ve determined our challenger for the Mask King’s title. Checkmate, do you feel confident defending your seat?”
“They’re such an exceptional performer… I’ll do my very best.”
I spoke calmly in my modulated voice.
Then panelist Yoon Jin-seok picked up the microphone.
“Checkmate’s been getting a lot of reaction lately. In several different ways, actually.”
Comedian Shin Jeong-a jumped in right away.
“Honestly, the viewers of The Masked Singer are like detectives. But this time—I’ve never seen people argue so much about whether someone’s the right person or not.”
“Oh, the netizens are fighting? That’s serious.”
Host Kim Woo-jin chimed in with a playful laugh.
Yoon Jin-seok picked up the microphone again.
“I’ve been doing variety shows for a long time, you know? And I know actor friends who’ve taken Vocal Training for five years and still can’t sing well. That’s just what singing is like.”
“That’s right. I saw someone on another program—they really couldn’t sing!”
Someone fired off a sharp quip.
And I couldn’t deny it.
‘……Yeah, that performance was rough enough to make you uncomfortable.’
Even with autotune to patch it up, it would’ve required patience to get through.
Yoon Jin-seok picked up the microphone again.
“I mean, it really seems like that person, but the whole thing doesn’t make sense. It’s got me confused too.”
I laughed quietly to myself.
It couldn’t be any other way.
Baduk.
Archery.
And now singing.
I kept turning the pages of talents no single person should possess.
“But that’s exactly what makes the impossible possible, and that’s where the real shock comes from.”
All the panelists nodded in agreement.
“……It might be selfish, but I hope you lose today. I think I’ll go insane with curiosity about who’s behind that mask!”
Laughter erupted from the audience at those words.
The atmosphere was warming, growing supple and alive.
The stage lights blazed with fervent intensity.
And now it was my turn to step back into that heat.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to live up to those expectations just yet.’
I knew the Mask King’s Seat was a throne I would have to relinquish someday.
But not now. Not today. I had no intention of surrendering it so easily.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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