I Have Too Many Money-Making Talents - Chapter 139

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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 Much Talent That Pays — Chapter 139
Day 3.
The halfway point of a six-day schedule.
Over the past two days, two games each morning and afternoon—four rounds in total—had been played.
Result: four wins.
Five points on the board.
And with victory in the fifth round just concluded, I’d climbed to five points and entered the lead group.
Sara Linova, who had watched the game from beside me, spoke with a note of admiration in her voice.
“Usually when players compete in consecutive games, their form drops off. But you’re different, In-ha. Your fifth-round game today was better than yesterday’s. Even though your opponent’s rating was higher.”
I smiled faintly.
“It’s probably thanks to my Baduk experience. In Baduk, it’s common to play consecutive games in finals tournaments.”
Suddenly, words I’d once heard from Journalist Gu came back to me.
That I’d earned the reputation of being a “player strong in consecutive play.”
That many players even dreaded facing me in the finals because of it.
And now, that same strength was carrying over seamlessly into chess.
She folded her arms and paused for a beat before continuing.
“What’s more impressive is that your playing style is completely different each game. Like you’re testing chess itself every match.”
“Is that so?”
“How is this even possible? Chess isn’t a sport that improves this fast.”
I pulled a small King ornament from my pocket, dangling it lightly like a keychain, and offered a deflection.
“Maybe it’s thanks to this charm you gave me?”
“As if.”
Sara shook her head with a faint smile.
“That charm doesn’t increase your skill.”
Yet even as she said it, she hesitated a moment before continuing carefully.
“Still, don’t let your guard down. From round six onward, you’ll be facing International Masters.”
International Master.
To earn the IM title, it isn’t enough to simply have a high rating.
You must score a performance rating of 2450 or above in a tournament and, across nine or more rounds, post results specifically against IMs or Grandmasters.
That record, recognized by the International Chess Federation, is called a Norm.
Only by collecting three or more Norms does one finally earn the IM title.
And.
‘Grandmaster, they said, is on a completely different level even from IMs.’
I returned to my seat for the sixth-round game in the evening.
Glancing to the side, I could see the stage.
Today only: two games.
From tomorrow onward: one game per day.
And from round seven onward, I’d be playing on the top board on the stage with an electronic board, and the games would be broadcast live.
The fact that winning this game would put me in that position made my pulse quicken.
…….
A familiar face caught my eye.
Asian features—distinctly Korean in tone and bearing.
The YouTuber, Chess King Ryu Hyun-sang.
‘First time seeing him in person.’
I’d heard through the production crew that he was participating in the London Open.
But this was my first encounter with him face-to-face on day three of the tournament.
He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment.
Then turned his gaze away just as quickly.
As if he neither wanted to, nor needed to, pay me any further mind.
‘Interesting.’
From his perspective, he probably never imagined I’d make it this far.
Rating is data, after all, and data rarely lies.
Perhaps that’s why.
When I kept winning and climbed higher into the later rounds, I was curious what expression he’d wear.
No ill will.
Just the thought that his reaction might be rather entertaining to witness.
Whoosh.
A shadow fell across the board in front of me.
A tall, imposing frame—well over 190 centimeters.
Official classical rating: 2391.
He was Ethan Clark, a participant in his fifties from England.
And he was also the first International Master I would face at this London Open.
After he arranged his pieces, we exchanged a handshake.
I released my grip, advanced a pawn two squares, and pressed the timing clock.
‘Let me take the initiative here.’
The Scotch Game.
A classical opening in chess—an aggressive choice that foregoes standard sequences and opens the center directly.
A straightforward, open style of play that declared direct confrontation rather than intricate theoretical battles.
‘…… I want to see what I’m capable of. No, what’s possible for me.’
From the Czech Open to the fifth round of the London Open this morning.
I’d been focused on discovering my own chess style and refining it.
That’s why I deliberately adopted a different approach in every single game.
And for good reason—unlike Baduk, which I’d started at the highest level, my chess talent was only B+ grade.
But I had the special quality of the Realm of Enlightenment, and the experience I’d accumulated in Baduk naturally manifested itself on the chessboard.
And the result was this:
‘I can see the movement of every piece.’
There were thirty-two pieces total on the chessboard—black and white combined.
The spaces where those pieces could move became visible at a glance.
Even though there must have been dozens, if not hundreds of them.
Swish.
The first pawn exchange.
And a quick knight exchange.
Black defended the king with the queen while simultaneously pinning, pressuring my king’s side.
A textbook sequence anyone could predict.
‘I have to break the pattern.’
I moved my knight to h4.
An unconventional move.
A path that deviated slightly from the standard sequence.
Ethan Clark’s eyebrows twitched as he sank into deep thought.
After nearly twenty minutes of consideration, Ethan Clark finally evaded my knight.
Qe3.
Precise.
A response that seemed to see right through my trap.
The seasoned instinct to sense danger from the board position alone.
‘So this is what an IM is like.’
But this wasn’t the end.
My strength lay not in calculating according to standard sequences, but in the intuition I’d honed through Baduk and relentless, persistent pressure tactics.
Swish.
I pushed a pawn forward.
A series of pawn sacrifices.
It looked reckless on the surface.
Losing three pawns in an instant, the board state collapsed drastically in terms of material count.
‘Now it begins.’
The blocked center opened, and the diagonals of my rook and bishop lay completely exposed.
Passages torn open by sacrifice.
Those passages led directly toward Ethan Clark’s king.
“Hmm.”
He appeared flustered, sinking back into thought.
He’d gained three pawns, but in return his position was crumbling.
Rd6.
When I finally planted my rook in the center of the battlefield.
My bishop was already positioned where it could check the king with Bc4+.
And my knight, following the trajectory of Nh4-, was being driven toward the enemy king.
There was no longer any way to hold.
It was the moment when Black’s king was hemmed in from all sides, cut off from escape.
Staring silently at the chessboard for a moment, Ethan Clark quietly extended his hand.
Resignation.
“……Chinese? Japanese?”
As we released the handshake, his voice carried a note of curiosity.
“From Korea.”
Clark’s eyebrows rose slightly.
He glanced at the camera filming him, then caught my eye.
“Korea… I thought Asia only played Baduk. That was surprising skill. I couldn’t do anything. You’re definitely not playing at that rating level.”
I smiled quietly and answered.
“I’m also a professional Baduk player.”
“…!”
Surprise flickered across his face at my words.
But then he nodded with understanding, smiling faintly.
“That explains why you’re so strong. I don’t know Baduk well, but it’s not as refined a mind sport as chess. Still, it was a memorable game.”
“For me as well.”
He offered his hand once more, and I took it.
After that, I submitted the score sheet to the arbiter and checked the large pairing board mounted on the wall.
Round 6 results.
Board 13: Ryu Hyun-sang (2346) Win — Miller Stefan (2406) Loss
My gaze naturally shifted to the right.
The pairings for the next Round 7.
Beside my table number, another name written alongside mine.
It was Ryu Hyun-sang.
‘Finally.’
A deep smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
And I noticed Oh Hyun-moo, the director, filming me with even brighter eyes.
The tension that had unfolded at the press conference.
On English soil, a chess match between two Koreans had come to pass.
Even I could see how compelling it was, how perfectly dramatic the setup had become.

* * *
Day 4.
I kept to my routine today as well.
I woke at the appointed time, washed my face, and went for a run.
After showering, I ate a simple breakfast, but always the same portion.
Neither excessive nor insufficient.
And I never opened a Baduk board or a chessboard.
I emptied my mind, keeping it fully prepared for the game ahead.
When I came down to the first-floor lobby, Kang Seung-hoo was waiting.
“How’s your condition today?”
“What more is there to say?”
I laughed briefly and added.
“At my peak.”
So, together with Sara Linova, who was smiling, the three of us got in the car and headed for Kensington Olympia Convention Hall.
Upon arrival, I confirmed my board number and made my way to the assigned table.
Top board.
Live game transmission.
This was the first time my chess would be broadcast live.
‘This is it.’
A space where countless eyes converged.
Me, sitting at the center.
Amid the mounting tension, strangely, the enjoyment rose even higher.
In that moment.
A dark-haired man climbed onto the platform.
When I turned my gaze, our eyes met.
Ryu Hyun-sang.
He offered no greeting, simply came around and sat across from me.
He arranged the pieces neatly, then immediately extended his hand with a composed expression.
‘…His poker face is quite good.’
He must have been surprised to find me sitting at this top board.
Yet he suppressed that emotion, showing every sign of concentration without a flicker.
Truly, the emotional control of an International Master.
Swiftly.
Ryu Hyun-sang moved his pawn without hesitation and pressed the timing clock.
e4.
I responded with a modest opening.
e5.
Followed by f4.
‘King’s Gambit.’
The most classical and dangerous opening of all.
A move designed to sacrifice the pawn before the king in exchange for rapid development and the initiative.
A choice that a player devoted to standard sequences would hesitate to make.
I smiled.
‘Aggressive from the very opening choice.’
Swift.
I immediately advanced d5.
The Falkbeer Counter-Gambit.
Meeting a gambit with a gambit in kind.
‘I’m not playing for a draw.’
Chess is different from Baduk.
With no compensation, Black labors under an absolute disadvantage.
That is why, on the Grandmaster stage, drawing strategies frequently appear.
I myself had once aimed for a draw in a game against Sara Linova.
But not this time.
Ryu Hyun-sang would have prepared at least thirty moves.
In any form.
Chess has fewer variations than Baduk, after all.
In the opening phase, standard sequences are more defined, and studied lines are numberless.
Yet I was confident that I could shake all of those calculations.
‘Destabilization.’
The response of meeting the opponent’s gambit with an equally daring one.
A method of rejecting the fundamental standard sequence.
A move that draws out entirely unexpected variations and disrupts the rhythm.
In chess, that is called an ‘idea.’
Swift.
Qh4.
Queen check.
It was a variation that shattered White’s prepared route entirely and unraveled the harmony of the pieces.
…….
Ryu Hyun-sang fell into deep contemplation, his expression grave.
Resting his forehead in his palm, he traced the variations with his fingers again and again, working through the consequences.
He was surely reading ahead at least fifteen moves or more.
And then, finally.
Swift.
He chose advance over retreat.
‘A composed response.’
The path that minimized positional collapse while accepting immediate losses.
A reply befitting the IM title.
It was a move designed to preserve White’s advantage and pursue a protracted contest.
But immediately after.
Swift.
I pushed the queen deeper into White’s territory.
……!
Ryu Hyun-sang’s eyes wavered for an instant.
The most coveted prize on the chessboard.
The most glaring trap.
Queen sacrifice.
I threw it away without hesitation from the early game itself.
‘Ah.’
This moment—this is when I feel the greatest thrill in playing chess.
Shaking the board.
Breaking expectations.
Traps, deceptions, snares, psychology…….
I laughed inwardly.
‘What will you do?’
Capture the queen, or flee from it.
The choice was his alone now.

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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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