-Twang.
The sound of a bowstring being pulled beyond its limit filled the archery range.
The tension was taut, coiled with a force that was almost too much to bear.
But she…
Shion did not stop.
With her fingertips firmly fixed, she drew the arrow to such an extreme that its tip trembled.
And then…
-Pang!
The moment her fingers released, the arrow shot forward at explosive speed.
In an instant, it pierced through the air, leaving traces of its rapid trajectory.
-Gulp!
The arrow struck the bullseye with perfect accuracy, shattering the target in one swift motion.
A tingling sensation still lingered in her fingertips.
“Haa…”
Her mind had been a battlefield lately.
The emotions swirling within her were varied, but one feeling lingered deepest of all:
Guilt.
The flow they had altered, supposedly for his sake, had ultimately caused him to relive that pain.
It was a necessary action, but still, this feeling of regret could not be shaken.
Suddenly, as if water had rushed in all at once, her mind was flooded with someone else’s memories.
No. These weren’t someone else’s memories.
“They’re mine.”
Clearly, they were the memories she herself had left behind.
As if signaling the end of the attack, the peninsula was enveloped in a downpour.
The sound of the rain falling was a dirge for the fallen heroes.
Black mourning attire.
The fabric, soaked with rain and weighed down with heaviness, clung to her skin.
Raindrops falling onto her knees trickled down quietly and incessantly, like silent tears.
She sat there, as the head mourner, with a dazed expression, before the memorial service for the Vanguisher heroes.
Shion had lost her parents at a young age, but she had never felt lonely. With a caring grandfather and the uncles and sisters who trusted and followed him, she had never been alone.
And one day, her grandfather brought home a boy.
He was frail and had no family. With his weak body, he learned the ways of battle from her grandfather.
She wanted to become his family, and before she knew it, she had become just that.
Shion became aware of the budding feelings in her heart. She thought it was friendship, but deep down, she had known for a long time that it was something more.
That day, she also realized the futility of such feelings.
“Ne?”
An association staff member arrived with the news.
Organizing the rain-soaked documents, the staff member called out the names of the deceased with a mournful expression.
It was just another routine mission.
Because of this seemingly ordinary mission, she had lost almost all her family in a single day.
All that remained was the boy, Jung Hae-in.
She could do nothing.
She couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t lift her head.
“…Hero’s death… Jung Hae-in is currently unconscious…”
But.
“Jung Hae-in??”
She repeated his name, her lips trembling.
Why were you there?
Though he hadn’t died, many were predicting his death, saying it might have been better that way.
That one statement completely shattered her.
Many heroes paid their respects, laying flowers, expressing their condolences.
Though she was the head mourner, she had no energy to attend to any of it.
Then, the murmurs of people began.
She looked up and saw a figure.
Rain-soaked patient gown, bandaged arm, blood seeping through the wound onto his clothes.
He walked toward her, barely able to stand, dragging one leg. He looked battered.
“Hae-in!!!”
It was him.
Shion immediately stood up and ran to him without hesitation. He stood silently, only looking at the ceremonial photo.
“…”
Hae-in’s eyes were hollow.
Then, his lips slowly parted.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… Sion…”
Like a broken doll, he repeated the same words over and over.
She didn’t ask what he was apologizing for.
Eventually, she embraced him tightly and began to cry loudly.
To her, the only reason to keep going in this world…
Was now Jung Hae-in.
That was all.
-Poom!
Ten arrows were shot at once. Strictly speaking, they weren’t shot simultaneously, but their speed was fast enough to be considered as such.
Rapid Fire.
All ten arrows pierced through the exact center of their respective targets.
Practicing students at the range began to murmur.
Attention was drawn toward her.
But she didn’t care.
Instead, she slowly and deeply inhaled.
It would be different this time.
Shion closed her eyes and vowed.
The day after submitting the application, an immediate welcome message came from the club.
Additionally, there was news to gather after classes ended for club activities.
Since it was mentor-mentee activity day, it was natural that I could recommend it to Yoon Chae-ha.
“You joined a club?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then how about this?”
I opened the watch, displayed a poster, and handed it to her.
-Board Game Club. Lexium.
“Oooh…”
Her eyes sparkled.
She tilted her head slightly, a hint of a smile on her lips, showing interest.
“How do I apply?”
“It’s done already.”
“Me too?”
“Yep.”
I answered calmly. She looked at me in surprise.
“You’re my mentor.”
Adding this casually, Yoon Chae-ha looked at me for a moment as if it was amusing, then laughed softly.
After classes ended, we headed to the clubroom. The board game clubroom was a cozy space filled with various games.
However, only one person was seated at the back table.
“Ah, you’re here?”
A second-year senior with a lime collar sat slouched with her hair tied neatly into a ponytail.
Seeing us, she slightly raised her eyebrows. Then, after checking the admissions list,
“I doubted it when I saw the names, but famous people joined?”
Her eyes were filled with interest.
“I’m Jo Seo-yeon. I’m in charge of the club.”
We greeted her.
I quietly turned my gaze and scanned the interior of the clubroom.
Bookshelves stocked with board games.
A chess set on the table. A Go board in the corner.
“Where are the others?”
I asked the senior.
She smirked and pointed somewhere with her finger.
“They’re playing something really expensive.”
She pointed to the floor of the spacious room.
There, four blue cubes emanating light were spinning wildly.
‘That’s it.’
An instant dungeon-style puzzle. They were probably inside the activated mana space within, enjoying their games.
Each cube forms one puzzle space.
So there are a total of four teams.
“Do you not play, Senior?”
I looked at her and asked.
“Somebody needs to be watching outside. Looks simple, but technically it’s a pretty dangerous device.”
She pointed at the cube with her finger and added.
Yoon Chae-ha tilted her head.
“Dangerous?”
The senior nodded slightly and explained.
“Remember the mock dungeon class? This is like a scaled-down version of that device. There are countless potential issues – space separation, mana backflow, and more.”
That’s reasonable.
After all, constructing the internal mana space isn’t exactly simple or easy.
“Anyway, welcome to our club.”
Jo Seo-yeon held out her hand lightly.
“Come have fun today. Though we’ve used up all the expensive stuff, there’s plenty of other things to do.”
I shook her hand. Yoon Chae-ha did the same.
“What do you want to play?”
I asked Yoon Chae-ha.
She glanced around, smirked, and headed for the corner.
And in front of the dusty Go board, she sat and spoke.
“Know how to play?”
As expected.
I anticipated that the board game she would choose would be Go.
Go is a game where two players take turns placing black and white stones to compete for more territory. Once placed, stones cannot be moved, and the goal is to control more area than the opponent.
However, the essence of this game isn’t just about acquiring territory.
Each stone placed carries a meaning that needs to be interpreted with every move.
I quietly replied,
“Yeah.”
I’ve played a few times with the old man. But not for long.
After all, with Full Human talent, it didn’t take long to surpass the old man in just a few days.
Yoon Chae-ha will keep testing and assessing me.
And I simply need to keep passing her tests.
Our conversation took place in stones across the Go board.
-Tap.
-Tap.
Black and white.
Only the sound of stones being placed echoed.
Yoon Chae-ha played boldly from the very beginning. She pushed me into a chaotic battle, forcibly dragging me into it, quickly expanding her areas. Each move she played was without a single wasted effort.
Everything was textbook. Efficient, optimal flow.
Thoroughly, it was a wizard’s Go.
I simply followed suit.
When she attacked, I defended. When she tried to disrupt the board, I straightened it out, securing only the minimal advantage.
-Tap.
-Tap.
A steady flow continued.
With her controlling the momentum, I didn’t try to wrest it away.
I just let her have it.
The game was nearing its end.
Then,
-Tap.
Yoon Chae-ha’s hand stopped.
She had thrown down her all-or-nothing move.
Now it was a battle of choices.
If she pursued efficiency,
She would have considered it most reasonable for me to remove a stone between the spaces.
The most optimized move created by many analyses and data.
To her analytical gaze, that would’ve been the most rational move.
However, I placed the stone where she’d least expect.
-Tap.
Instead of maintaining a space, I placed the stone right next to hers.
Placing a stone with a space in between is generally seen as a fast-paced move in Go.
Because it allows for control over a wider area and advantageous battles.
Then what about the previous move?
I ignored that convention.
With a stone placed directly next to hers,
The slowest but most immediate battle,
The most aggressive move.
“!”
This wasn’t a difficult and clever move.
It was simply a move that directly contradicted the “rational thought” she had accumulated so far.
A free-spirited move possible because I hadn’t played much Go.
Yoon Chae-ha stopped her hand.
Her gaze lingered over the Go board for a long time.
A regular person would have passed by this move without a second thought, but Yoon Chae-ha was different.
I quietly spoke, picking up a stone.
“Count.”
When the stones are all placed, there is a necessary process of calculating each player’s territory.
And that is usually a declaration made by the one with confidence.
Yoon Chae-ha abruptly lifted her head and looked at me.
“…”
She smiled, as if irritated.
Her expression was curious.
Yoon Chae-ha began the calculations.
Her fingertips counting the territories of black and white were not as sharp as usual.
It was a movement of questioning, pondering, trying to understand, rather than just following the flow.
One, two, three…
And then, she…
“Let’s play one more.”
She slowly placed the stone she held down.
