I Have Too Many Money-Making Talents - Chapter 17

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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 – Episode 017
‘Ah.’
Watching him, Yeon-hee felt a flutter of warmth in her chest.
Just this morning, he’d been casually linking arms with her for photos, nothing unusual about it.
But in this moment.
He felt like a completely different person.
“Congratulations, senior!”
Afraid her true feelings might show, Yeon-hee forced her smile brighter as she offered her congratulations.
“Thanks.”
In-ha offered a faint smile.
Yeon-hee couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face.
For a moment she stared blankly, then caught herself and shook her head quickly.
‘… Get it together, Yeon-hee!’
After tidying the Go stones, In-ha followed the organizers to the awards ceremony.
Shortly after, the formal presentations began.
“Winner of the Chunhyang Division, Kim In-ha!”
The division name might differ, but the Chunhyang Division was the strongest category.
In-ha received the trophy and was greeted with quiet applause.
He smiled with a hint of shyness, yet his expression revealed nothing of his feelings.
“…….”
Yeon-hee simply watched him in silence.
In-ha came down carrying the trophy, the prize money, and a box of pears—the local specialty.
Yeon-hee approached carefully and spoke to him.
“Senior, you look pretty cool today.”
“You don’t think I’m cool normally?”
“You’re doing it again, you’re doing it again.”
In-ha laughed lightly.
“But, senior.”
“Yeah.”
“…… For someone who just won, you don’t look happy at all.”
“I am happy.”
“You’re not showing it.”
In-ha lifted his shoulders with a slight shrug.
“I didn’t think I’d lose.”
At that, a laugh escaped Yeon-hee’s lips.
Not false modesty, nor arrogance.
Just a word that came from genuine confidence.
Which made it all the more attractive.
It was the moment when self-assurance itself felt like a charm.
“Should we go?”
“Since I won, dinner’s on me.”
“So you were planning to ask me to pay? That’s really too much.”
Trading jibes back and forth, the two climbed into the car side by side.
On the drive home.
Though the journey was long and distant.
Time seemed to flow differently for each of them.
It was a day that lingered in their hearts.

* * *
Bank work had become somewhat easier.
Ever since the Branch Manager incident.
First, the way employees treated him changed noticeably.
“Manager Kim, could you help me out for a moment?”
Words he couldn’t have heard before.
The title “manager” that no one had bothered to use properly became how they addressed him.
And the unreasonable task assignments simply vanished.
Of course, the customary work outside the bank security guard’s scope remained.
But unjust demands like app installations never passed anyone’s lips.
‘But that’s not all.’
There was more that had changed.
Yeon-hee.
Ever since we’d returned from Namwon together, we’d grown considerably closer.
Not in any way that suggested our relationship had shifted into something personal.
It was simply that we’d begun reaching out to each other without any particular reason.
[Yeon-hee: Senior, did the Branch Manager buy you eel again? Where are you putting all that energy?]
[Yeon-hee: It came out so well…… people would think we’re actually dating. Ah, I’ll post it anyway!]
[Yeon-hee: Senior! I think Ha just saw my SNS account]
[Yeon-hee: His expression is getting darker]
[Yeon-hee: He won’t even talk to me. The effect is instant, right?]
Silhouettes and shots of our backs that looked like those of lovers to anyone watching.
Right after I’d uploaded them.
When Ha arrived at work and came face-to-face with Yeon-hee, his expression was something to behold.
There was no description for it other than ‘someone who’d swallowed something foul.’
His mouth was pressed shut, but his eyes wavered with the unsteady look of someone desperate to say something.
Watching him, I felt inexplicably pleased—as though I’d landed a clean blow.
And finally.
The greatest change in my work life came at lunchtime.
Where I’d once eaten convenience store meals while browsing webtoons or YouTube,
my menu had grown more refined, and now I had someone I always ate with.
The Branch Manager.
“You reached 7-dan yesterday? Undefeated, no less?”
“Yes.”
“Impressive, as expected. I have a good eye for talent. You have genuine brilliance, Kim.”
A high-end Japanese restaurant.
Sitting across from the Branch Manager, eating expensive sushi, had become rather natural by now.
‘It wasn’t always like this.’
A subtly complex feeling—something that felt good and yet not entirely good at once.
To be honest, at first the awkwardness and discomfort loomed larger.
But after I’d reframed my thinking to ‘well, since it’s come to this, I might as well enjoy it,’
the meal had become fairly comfortable.
‘…… The funny part is, the staff likes it even more.’
Most of the employees tried to avoid eating with the Branch Manager.
I’d done the same.
The Branch Manager’s nagging meant you never knew whether food was entering your mouth or your nose.
Everyone had experienced it once.
So I’d essentially become his dedicated handler.
From the employees’ perspective, the one who’d taken on this explosive device could only be welcomed.
“Ah, Kim.”
Just as I was about to spoon up some miso soup,
the Branch Manager spoke, casually dropping the words.
“You applied for the Presidential Cup, right?”
“Yes. Last week.”
I swallowed the broth and stretched my chopsticks toward a piece of salmon sushi.
“I applied too. General division, though.”
“Ah…… I see.”
My chopstick movements slowed.
“So here’s what I’m thinking—why don’t we go together on Saturday?”
“Together?”
“You’re going anyway. It’d be more convenient to take my car, wouldn’t it?”
The Branch Manager popped a piece of sushi into his mouth and spoke as he chewed slowly.
“I’ve booked a hotel too. Two rooms, of course.”
“Excuse me?”
My hand holding the chopsticks froze for a moment.
A hotel reservation.
It was so sudden that I went blank.
“I might be eliminated on the first day, but you won’t. And who knows? You could make the finals. You need to manage your condition.”
Half sincere, half joking.
The Branch Manager’s words were neither light nor heavy.
But I found it difficult to answer, difficult even to laugh.
“Still, a hotel is…….”
“Don’t worry about it. No need to feel burdened. Can’t I invest that much in a valued employee?”
The Branch Manager beamed, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world.
He’d arranged the driving and even booked the hotel out of his own pocket.
So why did he seem even more excited than I was?
‘I don’t really have grounds to refuse.’
The whole situation was a bit strange, true.
Transportation, stamina, logistics, conditioning—
everything was perfect.
Only.
‘It feels like a burden.’
Yes, to be honest, it did.
“…Thank you, sir.”
In the end, that’s what I said.
The Branch Manager nodded, visibly satisfied.
Right. That would do.
No.
I’d chosen to believe it would.

* * *
“Another win.”
Before the monitor.
I stretched lazily, watching the result window confirm my undefeated streak.
Nickname: Mumyeong
Rank: Amateur 7-dan
Current Record: 38 wins, 0 losses
“At first, I was just trying to verify my level.”
Suddenly, I remembered that first game after gaining the talent.
Back then, I could only play Go—nothing more.
Joseki, opening formations, reading moves—all of it felt foreign and awkward.
And yet, here I was.
“Now most 7-dan players don’t even scare me.”
Confidence had taken root.
No—I’d begun to feel genuine certainty in my own strength.
Because of that, maybe.
I craved stronger opponents with each passing match.
In the flow of stones across the board.
The rush of reading my opponent’s intentions, piercing through their moves.
It wasn’t merely about winning.
I wanted to know—just how far could I go?
The thought alone made my heart race.
“So then… one more game.”
I moved the mouse and clicked the button to start a new match.
The Presidential Cup’s elite bracket was coming soon.
By the Three Kingdoms Go standard, amateurs ranging from 7-dan to 9-dan.
The best amateur players in the country would gather on that stage.
Even this match was a warm-up to maintain peak intuition.
[You have received a match request from Woyongzi.]
[Rank: Amateur 7-dan]
[Record: 63 wins, 28 losses]
“Chinese?”
A five-starred red flag fluttered before the nickname.
I’d played quite a few matches by now, but this was my first against a foreigner.
“Let’s play.”
Different nationality meant different culture.
Which meant a different style of Go, too.
It could be refreshing in more ways than one.
[You have accepted the match.]
Six and a half stone handicap, ten-minute time limit, three byoyomi sessions.
The automatic stone color selection ran, and a notification chimed that the match had begun.
Tap.
The Chinese player holding black, Woyongzi, played at the star point.
I calmly responded with a small corner opening in the lower left.
It was an unremarkable, orthodox opening formation.
But then.
‘What is this sense of dissonance?’
Though the pattern was familiar, something felt strangely foreign.
A sensation I’d never experienced in all my years playing Go.
As stones were laid one by one on the board, the discomfort deepened.
“……The moves don’t look particularly impressive in form. But when you step back, they’re solid plays.”
Black’s moves were precise, and sometimes unnervingly sharp.
During the opening phase, they pursued efficiency with extreme pragmatism.
Then, as the position grew favorable, they began subtly steering toward conflict.
Always in black’s advantage.
Without thinking, my upper body leaned closer to the monitor.
Wariness crept in, and my fingertips began to dampen with sweat.
‘Am I falling behind?’
It was unprecedented.
Since acquiring the talent for Go, I’d never once been driven into a passive position.
But my opponent.
Was on a different level.
Each move felt engineered with precision, backed by meticulous calculation and reading.
‘One mistake—just one—and I’ll be devoured.’
The six-and-a-half-stone handicap had long vanished from my mind.
Every time black placed a stone, an alarm blared in my thoughts.
In that instant, I made my decision.
Tap.
I launched a psychological attack.
To shake the board and seize the initiative.
Tap.
“……!”
The response that came back exceeded my expectations.
An irregular, distorted move that disregarded the shapes and patterns valued in Go.
I found myself wondering what kind of move this was.
But the moment I grasped its true value, my spine turned cold.
“Insane.”
The exclamation escaped unbidden.
This wasn’t merely “playing well.”
It was a refined move that pursued pure optimal efficiency on the board itself.
A move I couldn’t believe an Amateur 7-dan could possibly make.
‘……Even a professional wouldn’t play at this level.’
I slowly steadied my breathing.
Yet.
‘There’s still room to fight.’
I adjusted my posture.
I’d spent too much time in the early and midgame; byoyomi was coming soon.
But that was fine.
Here, cornered at the edge of the cliff.
This was the chance to discover the true limits of my strength.

* * *
“That retreating move was the critical error. It became too thin and gave the opponent an opening to attack.”
Jang Yu-na, 2-dan, moved the mouse to point at a stone on the board.
It was the losing factor for the viewer who’d participated in the just-concluded “Viewer’s Match.”
“If you’d extended two spaces here, it would’ve been better. A shame, really. Though you held on admirably through the endgame.”
-held on well then crushed their big group?ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
-Yu-na, you shouldn’t accept even games anymore.
-why? it’s fun watching you demolish them
-yu-na suffering is what makes it good, too easy a win is boring
-the classic pattern of weak-strong-strong-weak lol
The chat was as lively as ever.
The viewer count soared relentlessly, and quips streamed from the chat without pause.
“Since I can win, I do win. If you’re unhappy with it, why don’t you beat me?”
Jang Yu-na, a 2-dan player, laughed with practiced ease.
Viewer provocation was the finest seasoning for a broadcast, and she knew exactly how to use it.
Ding!
A manager’s message appeared on Jang Yu-na’s secondary monitor. It was from Heo PD.
Heo PD: Pro, the Nameless player just started a match!
Jang Yu-na: K
In an instant, Jang Yu-na’s expression transformed completely.
She looked toward the camera and shifted the mood with a lively tone.
“Well! Unfortunately, that wraps up today’s viewer match. What? You think I’m being reckless?”
She wagged her finger left and right.
“Because today, we have a special match to observe!”
Jang Yu-na clicked the link Heo PD had shared and switched to the live match feed.
A Go game already about thirty moves in began streaming in real time.
—Oh, Nameless!
—Wait, he’s already 7-dan?
—38 wins, 0 losses… undefeated.
—Is he not a pro?
—Yu-na, are you stalking him?
The chat erupted.
Nameless.
The only viewer who, despite being merely Amateur 4-dan, had challenged Jang Yu-na to an even match and won.
How viciously the other viewers had torn into her over it.
But today.
Jang Yu-na had come to watch Nameless’s game.
Could the viewers possibly imagine a more captivating turn of events?
“Wow. 7-dan…… I said it then, and I’ll say it again. It wasn’t that I played poorly—this person simply plays brilliantly.”
Jang Yu-na curved her lips upward, driving the momentum forward with full force.
Nameless defers to others and plays conservatively.
Yet he constantly leaves openings for viewers to insert themselves.
“Again, again. Stop with the complaints, okay? So, shall we watch some Go?”
Smoothly, she transitioned into the commentary broadcast with practiced skill.
There was no way to reach Nameless unless he checked his private messages.
It was tedious, but this was her only option—slipping in through the observation and appealing for attention.
‘Whatever. As long as the game is interesting.’
Jang Yu-na shifted her gaze to the board.
She was already curious what kind of Go Nameless would display.
How she should narrate it.
What reaction to give when he played a brilliant move.
She had already calculated it all clearly in her mind.
But then.
“……Nameless is losing?”
In that moment, her expression froze.

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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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