I Have Too Many Money-Making Talents - Chapter 8

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

Talents That Pay Off, Episode 8
‘Wait… could that be Lee Yeon-hee?’
I’d heard from Jin-woo not long ago that he’d run into her by chance on the street.
But I hadn’t paid it much mind.
Since graduation, there’d been no real reason for our paths to cross.
Given how things stood with me now, I’d grown reluctant to see classmates or juniors at all.
Yet here we were, meeting like this.
And of all things—as a contract security guard and a regular bank employee.
More than any joy at the reunion, I felt at a loss for how to face her.
“Ha will show you the ropes as your supervisor. Let’s make today another day where we find happiness through our numbers.”
The moment the branch manager left, the staff began drifting toward Yeon-hee in ones and twos.
Ha Jong-woo, who’d been fussing with her clothes and hair from the introduction itself, had planted himself squarely at her side, gesturing expansively as he talked.
Other employees drifted closer, asking her this and that, drawn in by her bright smile.
……
I stood at a distance, simply watching the scene unfold behind the counter.
Approaching her now to act as if we knew each other would’ve felt absurd.
Besides, the counter between us created a gulf that felt impossible to bridge.
‘There’ll be a chance to greet her later.’
The automatic doors slid open as the first customer of the day entered.
I offered a warm smile and a greeting.
“Welcome to Ciel Bank. What can I help you with today?”
The morning was mayhem.
The flood of customers alone would’ve been enough, but the ATM Machine in the cash corner was acting up as well.
After rebooting it several times and checking the receipt printer, it finally ran normally again.
The counter work was no less frantic.
Yeon-hee, being new, was moving slowly through her transactions, and the line of waiting customers had begun to grow.
I went to each waiting customer in turn, apologizing and offering them coffee or tea.
A quiet act of consideration—hoping Yeon-hee wouldn’t grow discouraged on her first day.
We barely survived the morning, and then lunch break arrived.
“Yeon-hee, let’s grab some food. What do you like?”
“Oh, I’m fine with anything. I’ll eat whatever you recommend.”
“How about we go for stew?”
Ha Jong-woo, Yeon-hee, and a handful of other staff members passed by me and left the bank.
Not a soul thought to introduce me or include me.
We worked in the same building, but we might as well have been strangers.
There was nothing stung about it—I’d grown used to it.
‘Let me grab lunch.’
I slipped out through a side door to avoid crossing paths with them.
I stopped by a nearby convenience store and picked up a random lunch box.
After paying, I sat down at a small rest area beside the building.
Eating lunch alone.
By now I should have been used to it, yet it still felt strange.
I peeled back the plastic wrap and snapped the chopsticks in half.
As I was about to pick up the first bite, my phone vibrated—a text message.
“How much tax are they taking?”
The championship prize money deposited in my account was 390,000 won.
After deducting the 20,000 won entry fee, what actually reached my hands was 370,000 won in total.
Taxes had to be paid, of course, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of having lost out.
“What can I do about it. Nothing to be done… wait? There’s a window I haven’t seen before?”
I cautiously opened the System Window I’d forgotten about.
[Talent: Go (A)]
[Championship Record]
-7th Jung Buk-gu Association President’s Cup Go Tournament Champion (1 win)
Without my noticing, the championship record had been updated in the System Window.
“Feels like I’m collecting achievements.”
Looking at the newly added line, I felt oddly satisfied.
Even if it was a small-scale tournament, a championship was still a championship.
Then.
[!]
“What is this?”
An exclamation mark flickered in the corner of my vision.
I opened the window to see what it was about.
[This function is not yet activated.]
Just a single line.
No explanation. No guidance.
It was hard to make sense of it yet, but something about it felt off.
“…Well, I’ll figure it out eventually.”
Brushing it aside, I headed back toward the bank building.
Before the afternoon work began in earnest, I stopped by the restroom to freshen up.
And just as I was stepping out—
“Excuse me.”
A familiar voice called to me.
“You’re Inha, aren’t you?”
Lee Yeon-hee was looking up at me with a smile.
I, caught off guard, nodded awkwardly.
“Oh, it’s been a while.”
“We keep running into each other! The world really is small.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
Lee Yeon-hee clasped her hands lightly and spoke brightly.
She still carried the look from her university days.
“You haven’t changed, though. Still quiet.”
“You seem different.”
“In a good way?”
“Not in a bad way, at least.”
Lee Yeon-hee smiled softly.
“By the way, I ran into Jin-woo not long ago.”
“I heard. He said something strange, I think…”
I felt even more embarrassed for bringing it up first.
‘Why’d I have to say something pointless like that.’
The fact that I had to correct myself—not a bank employee, but a security guard at the bank—made me feel smaller somehow.
“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it. That’s just Jin-woo’s habit, cutting things short and speaking carelessly.”
Lee Yeon-hee laughed as if it were nothing.
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t misunderstand anything.”
“As if. I don’t judge people over something like that.”
Lee Yeon-hee answered with crisp certainty.
There was a maturity in her tone that was different from her university days.
“Well then, I should head back inside. I’m still getting the lay of the land. We’ll catch up over drinks sometime.”
“Sounds good.”
Lee Yeon-hee waved and disappeared into the bank.
Watching her disappear, I murmured to myself.
“…She’s gotten prettier. More impressive, even.”

* * *
“I’m home.”
I closed the front door and took off my shoes.
In the kitchen, my mother was cooking stew.
“Welcome back. Go wash up and have dinner.”
“Yes, I’ll be right there.”
I showered quickly and came out to the dining table.
My mother, enjoying a rare day off, served the rice herself.
“Mom, here.”
I quietly handed her a white envelope.
“What is this?”
“Tournament prize money.”
“No, why would you give this to me? You should use it.”
My mother, flustered, waved her hand.
“You have to accept it, or I won’t eat.”
“Inha.”
“Understood! I’ll eat well!”
I scooped up a big spoonful of rice and pushed it into my mouth.
He polished off both bowls and returned to his room in high spirits.
A small but meaningful victory.
What pleased him most was knowing the prize money would help his family.
‘I’ll keep pushing forward. Get my certification, earn more prize money…’
With fresh resolve, he logged into Baduk Three Kingdoms.
“One more win and I’m 5-dan.”
His current record stood at twenty-nine wins, zero losses.
If his win rate exceeded eighty percent over the last ten games, he’d qualify for promotion.
One more victory would meet that threshold.
Without hesitation, he clicked the Auto Match Request button.
[You have received a match request from Eagle Typist.]
[Strength: Amateur 2-dan]
[Record: 878 wins, 641 losses]
He hit accept, and the game window opened as the automatic stone draw took place.
With a sound cue, the match began.
“Let’s see if I can pull this off.”
His opponent, playing black, placed a stone on a star point. He answered by mirroring with a diagonal star point, maintaining equilibrium.
‘Another 3-3 Invasion?’
His head tilted involuntarily.
The orthodox moves he knew typically developed from star points and small points.
But his recent opponents had frequently employed this aggressive corner-invasion strategy from the opening.
‘Is this a Joseki I don’t know?’
Even if it were, it wouldn’t change his approach.
“Interesting—they’re being very solid.”
Eagle Typist played a sound, pragmatic game.
Against such opponents, giving them time only hurt his position.
He seized the moment and played a forcing move with black.
It was a cutting maneuver designed to reduce black’s territory.
But unexpectedly, black fought back hard.
“No reason to shy away from a fight when it comes to you, is there?”
His fingers tingled with pleasure.
Neither side gave an inch—it was strength meeting strength in battle.
His chest burned hot, and a sense of being truly alive spread through his entire body.
And at the end of this always came.
The sharp, intoxicating rush of victory and the satisfaction of achievement.
“What now?”
When the fight spread to the center, black’s position crumbled.
The reckless attack shattered black’s territorial shape completely, making recovery impossible.
Judging the situation hopeless, black resigned.
[Mumyeong has achieved victory.]
[Congratulations. You have been promoted to 5-dan.]
Rising from Amateur 2-dan, he had reached Amateur 5-dan.
And he’d done it with thirty straight wins and no losses.
Confidence in his Go ability was beginning to crystallize.
“No reason to be satisfied yet. There are still higher ranks to climb.”
As he caught his breath, a notification banner appeared on the right side of his monitor.
[Live Stream Notification]
[Viewer Match with Professional Female Player Jang Yu-na, 2-dan]
His drowsy eyes snapped to attention.
“A viewer match?”
He moved the mouse and clicked the live stream banner.
On the new screen appeared a woman who looked about his age, sitting with composed posture.
White shirt, hair neatly tied back.
Not a striking beauty at first glance, but there was something quietly captivating about her presence.
-Hello.
-Wow, Yu-na’s got the vibe today.
-You gonna laugh while beating the viewers again lol
-I want to play you.
-Let’s roll the stones already!
Though the stream had just begun, the chat was burning hot.
What stood out more was that a considerable number of Chinese and Japanese viewers were actively participating in the chat, even running translation software.
“Wow, we’re already over three hundred viewers.”
The viewer count was climbing rapidly.
It spoke to just how thick the fanbase for this broadcast truly was.
“Hello everyone. This is Jang Yu-na. I see quite a few people hoping to lose today?”
Jang Yu-na, a 2-dan player, smiled slightly.
Her voice was excellent too—measured yet captivating, with a tone that drew the ear.
Crisp diction like a professional announcer, each word landing cleanly.
‘Can I request a match?’
My hand moved toward the mouse.
A game against a professional? It was too good an opportunity to pass up.
“My condition today is really in top form. Honestly, whoever challenges me should feel sorry for themselves—what do you think?”
-ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
-Pros laugh while they crush you.
-Hurry up and roll the ball! I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it
-Don’t care about Go anyway, just here for the face
“All right then, let’s take just one more minute of viewers and roll the ball, shall we?”
Jang Yu-na moved her mouse, bringing up the ball-rolling feature on screen.
Holding my breath, I moved the cursor and completed my match request.
“Three, two, one. Requests closed. Here we go—rolling!”
With a click, hundreds of balls bearing usernames began rolling across the screen.
‘Please, let me be picked.’
I stared at the monitor, barely breathing.
A professional Go player.
A being at the pinnacle of the art of Go.
I wanted to know where my skill truly stood—tested against a professional.
Rumble-rumble-rumble.
The balls bounced in all directions as they struck obstacles.
-No no no
-Why does it always have to be me getting knocked out
-Is this rigged?
-Done for
The disappointed viewers flooded the chat, but my ball was still going.
‘Keep rolling. Push through.’
My ball glided smoothly through the final curve.
The ball ahead struck an obstacle and tumbled down.
Then my ball, coming from behind, was sucked cleanly into the center slot.
“Yes!”
I clenched my fist tight.
“Today’s viewer match winner is Mumyeong!”
Jang Yu-na pointed at the top corner of the screen with her finger.
“My account is written right there—send me an invitation right away!”
I created a room as instructed and invited Jang Yu-na’s account.
-What? Thirty wins, zero losses?
-An undefeated record at 5-dan? Is this an alt account?
-Is this an AI?
-Something feels off about this
The chat erupted over my record, but I didn’t even notice.
My attention was fixed solely on Jang Yu-na.
The match against her—a professional—consumed every ounce of my focus.
“You’ve got an impressive record. You do know, don’t you? Players like you are exactly when I play my best.”
With confident words, Jang Yu-na sent over her match request.
“Since you’re 5-dan, I’d say four points would be fair.”
‘Four points?’
My expression hardened without thinking.
Handicap Go.
A style where Black begins with several stones already placed on the board to equalize the skill gap.
In one sense, it was a natural adjustment.
The gap between amateur and professional was that vast, or so I’d heard.

‘……I’m not feeling it.’
He didn’t want to waste this hard-won match against a professional Go player by playing it as Handicap Go.
“Hmm? Wait, I’m getting a handicap adjustment notification?”
Jang Yu-na’s face appeared on screen, confusion written across it.
“……Even Game?”

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