I Have Too Many Money-Making Talents - Chapter 68

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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—Episode 068
“…….”
My eyes track the board.
Tap.
Black’s Stone Placement.
The moment that stone lands, my eyes and mind don’t rest.
‘Initiative by five points into Endgame.’
Position Evaluation.
The flow so far—Black at thirty-eight points.
Add five more points to that.
I shift my gaze.
To the Endgame sequence I’ve been watching.
‘……The retreat costs four points in Endgame for the follower. Lower edge first.’
There’s no time to catch my breath.
I don’t release my line of thought, don’t break my focus.
A slim margin.
Two points, one point, and half a point.
I calculate differences so infinitesimal they’re nearly invisible, with a tedium that borders on obsession.
Tap.
Liu Quan’s 9-Dan plays another move.
I glance at the Timing Clock.
‘Eight minutes.’
Time remaining.
Not comfortable, but given the space left on the board, not lacking either.
Once more, I track the board.
I factor in the Board State I’ve built up to this point and its variations, calibrating the Dame count.
‘Half a point.’
Still in the lead.
But it’s too early to breathe easy.
This fight to preserve that half point is a fight where everything hangs in the balance.
The weight of each move.
A single moment of hesitation.
A single moment of wavering.
Not one mistake can be afforded.
—Byoyomi begins now. Ten, nine…….
Tap.
Liu Quan plays a stone.
The largest sequence Black can play.
Though the Initiative is surrendered, the Endgame is worth the cost.
‘Cold.’
Even pressed by Byoyomi, his judgment doesn’t cloud.
Separate from the Cheating, I couldn’t deny he possessed the skill of a world-class Baduk Player.
‘Which is precisely why it’s unforgivable.’
I pick up a stone.
Tap.
Toward the lower edge.
Attachment on the first line.
A spot where Stone Counting leaves an uncertain question.
But I was confident.
In this space with little room to spare, a decisive move exists.
“…….”
Liu Quan’s brow furrows.
He hesitates in that instant.
Considering whether there’s a trap he hasn’t discovered.
The Byoyomi announcement rings out again.
—Byoyomi begins now. Ten, nine…….
Tap.
He places a stone, ending his hesitation.
The natural move.
The very spot I myself wouldn’t hesitate to play.
Strictly speaking, it was a position where I’d lose half a point.
‘Doesn’t matter.’
With that response, the Black stones on the first line had died, but they’d served their purpose.
I withdrew boldly.
Maintaining the balance of the endgame, I pushed into the Initiative Endgame with the most efficient sequence.
With each stone placed, the remaining empty space shrank.
Monotonously.
Ruthlessly.
Building up relentlessly.
Clack.
A move that reduced Black’s options one by one.
Liu Quan’s eyes as a 9-Dan flickered.
He tried to count stones and evaluate the position, but time wouldn’t allow it.
—Byoyomi begins now. Ten, nine… two, one. One more left.
He’d burned through his final byoyomi.
Driven to the absolute limit.
If he didn’t place a stone within byoyomi now, he’d lose on time.
Clack.
Hurried. Rushed.
The stones on the board trembled slightly.
The tremor had spread all the way to his fingertips.
‘There it is.’
A loose move.
A signal that each stone felt burdensome as time pressed in.
The rhythm I’d been waiting for.
I looked at the board.
Quietly, I checked the position once more.
I decided all remaining Initiative Endgame moves.
Now there was just one spot left.
I reached out immediately.
Clack.
The only chance to decisively determine victory.
Ko.
Liu Quan froze in an instant.
He stopped reading moves and stared at the timing clock.
Even that brief moment would be a crushing pressure.
To win the Ko, Liu Quan had to find a Ko Threat.
‘…It won’t be enough.’
A move connecting at the first line on the lower side.
Strictly speaking, that move would lose half a point.
In terms of stone counting alone, it was a loss, not a gain.
But in this position, that move became a Ko Threat and decides the game.
I watched Liu Quan’s face harden.
His composure shattered—his breathing became irregular.
Clack.
A Ko Threat forced out under duress.
I responded calmly.
I consumed one Ko Threat.
And then I placed another stone.
Clack.
I continued the Ko.
Liu Quan’s fingertips trembled faintly.
He kept searching for Ko Threats, consuming them in turn.
Gradually, Black’s Ko Threats dried up.
But I still had room in my Ko Threats.
A snowball created by that move connecting at the first line on the lower side.
That single stone had become the key to winning this Ko.
—Byoyomi begins now. Ten, nine… two, one.
Clack.
Liu Quan finally conceded the Ko.
Not a willing retreat, but a forced one.
There was nowhere left on the board where he could gain an advantage.
Dame.
A point that cannot become territory.
The least valuable move in the game of Go.
Click.
I filled the Ko threat without hesitation.
The board fell silent.
Liu Quan’s expression darkened.
The face of a man who knew defeat.
Click.
I sealed the final dame.
The waiting arbiter and game official approached.
“We’ll now proceed to Stone Counting.”
I nodded.
Rustle.
The stones were gathered one by one.
White, black, white, black.
Dead stones filled the empty points, and careful fingers swept across the board.
Quiet, orderly Stone Counting.
The Studio held its breath in silence.
And at last, it was finished.
“Black: forty-seven points. White: forty-one points.”
The arbiter’s measured voice resonated through the Studio.
A moment of suspended silence.
“With six and a half points komi. Kim In-ha, white wins by half a point.”
His words seeped quietly into my ears.
The vague sense of it crystallized, slowly hardening into reality.
‘I won.’
That seemingly trivial half point.
And that single Ko threat, pursued with relentless stubbornness.
One point that decided the game’s outcome.
I had poured everything into protecting this invisible half point.
It was the lightest victory, and yet the heaviest.
Shift.
Before I could savor the victory, Liu Quan rose from his seat.
Beyond the expression hardened by shock, an old, suppressed emotion flickered into view.
I watched his retreating back.
Still rigid neck.
Straight shoulders.
Every bit of it grated against me.
I couldn’t hold back, letting emotion color my words.
“Why don’t you bow your head?”
My sharp words made Liu Quan pause.
The moment he turned around.
I spoke coldly.
“You’re not being honest and upright, are you? Not in your Go, and not in your conscience.”
His pupils trembled minutely.
Words I had kept pressed deep in my chest.
To anyone watching, it was obvious public criticism.
A final blow meant to brand him with the shame of cheating and still losing.
I was certain of Liu Quan’s cheating.
The system had labeled him a “Godly Hand Suspected of Fraud.”
……
Did he feel insulted by my words?
I felt the flames of emotion flare in the eyes turned toward me.
But I did not avert my gaze.
Until he glared at me with unfiltered emotion, then finally turned away without a word.
Step, step.
In Liu Quan’s receding figure, I felt the sediment of shock and old bitterness.
Only after he left the studio did I turn my head.
That moment.
Ding!
A system window blazed across my vision.
[Congratulations. You have won Game 2 of the World Championship Finals as an Amateur.]
[Congratulations. You have claimed the 30th Ciel Bank Cup World Masters championship.]
Now it felt real.
The fact that I’d won. That I was champion……
The system messages kept flowing.
[You have achieved an unprecedented feat in the history of Baduk.]
[You are recorded as the first Baduk Player ever to win a World Championship as an Amateur.]
[As an Amateur, you have defeated the ‘Godly Hand Suspected of Fraud.’]
[You have become the first Baduk Player to overcome Cheating.]
[Through this remarkable victory, your Talent evolution potential has awakened.]
[Professional Promotion points achieved. Your scheduled promotion to Professional 1-Dan certificate is being deleted.]
[Korea Baduk Association special advancement is being applied. As an Amateur, you are scheduled to be promoted to Professional 9-Dan Godly Hand.]
[Congratulations. You have achieved an unprecedented feat unparalleled in Baduk history.]
[Bonus points are being assigned for this unprecedented achievement.]
[Additional rewards are being calculated.]
There were so many messages I felt dizzy.
Barely able to process them one by one.
What was truly frightening.
‘There’s still more?’
The system messages continued to stream upward.
[Congratulations. You have fulfilled the Talent retention condition.]
[If selected, Talent retention is possible regardless of your Primary Job.]
[The bonus point calculation for this unprecedented achievement has been completed.]
[The additional reward calculation has been completed.]
[Congratulations. You have been granted a Primary Job Exchange Voucher.]
[Congratulations. You have been granted a Talent Enhancement Voucher.]
[Congratulations. You have been granted an Enhancement Platinum Exchange Voucher.]
[Congratulations. A Master Roulette Voucher has been issued.]
‘A, a Master Roulette Voucher?’
My head spun.
Words I’d never heard before poured out endlessly.
My mind struggled to sort through it all.
I felt hollowed out, as if my soul had left my body.
Then.
“……Kim In-ha?”
At the referee’s gentle call, I snapped back to attention and looked up.
“You need to proceed to the awards ceremony.”
I nodded and left the studio.
When I arrived at the Hotel Main Hall, numerous people were waiting.
Applause.
Camera flashes.
The shutter clicks of journalists.
I climbed quietly onto the stage and sat in the chair reserved for the awardee.
The emcee took the microphone and began the ceremony.
“We will now proceed with the awards ceremony of the 30th Ciel Bank Cup World Masters. This tournament began with an amateur preliminaries round, progressed through integrated preliminaries against professional Baduk Players from around the world, and culminated in single-elimination finals.”
The journey of professional Baduk Players who fought fiercely all the way to the final match.
And at the center of it all, a miraculous presence.
Kim In-ha.
My story was being told.
“The miracle of an amateur.”
At the emcee’s words, the atmosphere in the hall grew solemnly reverent.
An unprecedented event in history.
Nothing but respect and awe filled the space.
“The protagonist of a tale unheard of in Baduk history—perhaps the first and last of its kind. We now welcome the 30th Ciel Bank Cup World Masters champion, Kim In-ha.”
I rose from my seat.
The Vice President of Ciel Bank handed me the Trophy, and the President of the Korea Baduk Association presented the Prize Money Board and Bouquet.
Ah.
It was heavy.
The weight transmitted through my fingertips.
That weight was every battle I’d fought climbing through this tournament.
My Move Reading, my perseverance—all of it had accumulated into this result, this reward.
I held the Trophy in one hand and the Prize Money Board in the other, facing forward.
Click.
The photo shoot continued against the backdrop.
A genuine smile.
The reality of victory.
And the honor and prize money I’d claimed with my own hands.
Everything made me smile.
After the commemorative photos, the emcee unfolded the prepared questions.
“Congratulations on the championship. You’ve written a historic record in Go history—the World Championship Amateur victory that no one has ever achieved before. Your thoughts, please.”
I took a short breath to collect myself.
Then I opened my mouth calmly.
“It’s an honor to inscribe my name on the list of world championship victors.”
An understated interview, unlike me.
But that was my way of showing respect to the Ciel Bank Cup.
The emcee smiled faintly.
“Your play was even more polished than Game One. From the opening fuseki through the mid-game disruptions to the late-game Endgame—it was flawless. Did you prepare for this?”
“Yes. From start to finish, it was all intentional and calculated.”
An answer that might have sounded arrogant.
But I didn’t care.
It was the truth, and the results proved it.
The emcee continued with the next question.
“The Korea Baduk Association has confirmed your Special Promotion—jumping straight from Amateur to Professional 9-Dan. Do you have plans ahead?”
I laughed briefly.
“Right now, I’d like to rest.”
Laughter rippled through the room.
The emcee smiled and asked again.
“Then, do you have no next goal?”
I chose my words carefully.
“Nothing grandiose. I’ll continue just as I have been.”
Just as I always have.
Just as I’ve always kept it.
“Go without losses. I’ll keep it going.”
I laughed briefly.
At that, the emcee raised his voice and brought the interview to a close.
“That was Kim In-ha, champion of the 30th Ciel Bank Cup World Masters!”
Applause poured down.
The heavy Trophy and Prize Money Board in my hands.
That weight, bit by bit, made it real to me.
Kim In-ha, champion of the 30th Ciel Bank Cup World Masters.
That I was that person.

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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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