Chapter 24:Fevered Fights: The Semifinals Struggle

The round of 16, played while exhausted from lack of sleep.

My opponent is Greta Meier 3-dan, Europe’s representative.

She has another job outside of Go.

Holding black, I win by 18 points.

Inaye Lee 9-dan also easily defeats Sakura Ito 4-dan.

I asked a Korean Go Association official stationed here for help moving to a new hotel, but the accumulated travel fatigue and disrupted sleep cycle leave my body in poor shape.

I might have caught a cold—my throat is sore, and I’m starting to run a fever.

There’s no time to recover. The quarterfinals are the very next day.

My opponent in the quarterfinals is Meiliang Cheng 4-dan from Taiwan.

A sloppy game.

Both of us played poorly, but my opponent was in worse condition.

Regardless of the process, I advance to the semifinals.

To the public, I’m just a kid who recently turned pro, so the media hypes this as a great achievement.

Since my bracket doesn’t overlap with Inaye Lee 9-dan’s, we could meet in the finals if we both keep winning, and the media seems to be hyping that possibility, but the semifinalists are no pushovers.

Inaye Lee 9-dan faces Yun Hui 5-dan, whose popularity in China is skyrocketing.

A beautiful player backed fully by the Chinese Go Association, excelling in both skill and looks.

Objectively, Inaye Lee 9-dan, last year’s champion and Korea’s multi-title holder, has the edge.

But like me, she’s caught a cold and is in terrible condition. An upset isn’t impossible.

Meanwhile, my semifinal opponent is Nonoha Tsugaru 5-dan from Japan. Ranked fourth among Japanese women, she’s a top-tier player who won two domestic titles last year.

Since I defeated Japan’s rising star Asana Hozumi, this match is drawing significant attention from Japanese media.

Chinese rules. 7.5-point komi.

In Chinese tournaments, I prefer white. The 7.5-point komi is one point higher than Korea’s 6.5, so with black, you need to leverage the first-move advantage with sharper plays.

After the stone draw, I get white.

In my poor condition, even this small comfort feels significant.

Move 1. Upper-right star point.

I play a small knight’s move in the upper-left corner.

Move 3. Small knight’s move in the lower-right corner, skewed left.

For move 4, I mirror it with a small knight’s move in the lower-left corner.

Nonoha Tsugaru 5-dan plays a knight’s move extension from the lower-left corner.

Pincer attack.

She sacrifices the corner for thickness.

I wrap up the position and invade the lower-right corner, again yielding profit to Nonoha Tsugaru 5-dan for thickness.

Little is known about me—few game records, no clear style. I’m an unknown entity.

As a rookie with no track record, a loss would hit her hard.

Is the excessive attention from Japanese media weighing on her?

Nonoha Tsugaru 5-dan loses balance between profit and influence. Black 33, black 39.

Moves too focused on profit.

Uncharacteristically for someone who reached the semifinals with flexibility and sharp instincts, she’s swayed by emotion.

An opportunity.

My condition is poor, but my mind isn’t so foggy as to miss this.

I sacrifice some profit diagonally, seizing control of the center.

An imbalanced position means distorted judgment. She doesn’t sense the danger and settles for exchanges.

My white stones in the upper-left and center grow excessively large.

Realizing too late that she’s lost balance, Nonoha Tsugaru 5-dan makes a reckless push.

A rash offensive. Her supply lines thin.

An extremely light game.

A single probe forces her to twist and turn.

I exploit her weakness, dismantling the top side.

Gaining overwhelming profit there, Nonoha Tsugaru 5-dan grows desperate.

I manage my time well, cutting off variables and solidifying my momentum.

A stable endgame.

A 4.5-point victory.

After exchanging courtesies and a brief review, I check on Inaye Lee 9-dan’s match.

It’s nearing the endgame.

Her record against her opponent is 5-0.

Despite her overwhelming advantage, Inaye Lee 9-dan is cornered.

Like me, she’s battling a cold, and unlike me, who got at least some rest, she’s barely slept.

The result of accumulated travel fatigue.

Despite her terrible condition, Inaye Lee 9-dan fights with passion, but the outcome becomes clear.

A 2.5-point loss for Inaye Lee 9-dan.

Yun Hui 5-dan. In person, she lives up to her reputation as a beautiful player.

But I don’t feel any warmth toward her.

Even though her opponent’s poor condition is obvious, she doesn’t offer a handshake and focuses only on her own emotions.

Inaye Lee 9-dan wears a dark expression.

But when she sees me, she forces a smile.

“I lost… Seoa, did you do well?”

“…Yes.”

“Good, that’s what matters. My opponent played well… and I wasn’t at my best.”

She blames herself rather than external factors—a model attitude, but I can’t shake the bitter feeling.

Words of comfort won’t help much.

The result won’t change.

The pain of defeat is hers alone to bear.

The best I can do is rest well and prepare for the finals in two days.

Inaye Lee 9-dan has a busy schedule. I suggested asking the Chinese Go Association to arrange another guardian, but she stubbornly insists on staying with me until the finals.

The best-of-three finals are held at a different venue.

It’s a three- or four-hour drive.

We travel via transportation arranged by the organizers, but it’s during rush hour.

Traffic is heavy.

With one bad situation after another, it feels absurd, but it’s almost like a grand conspiracy by the organizers and the Chinese Go Association.

We arrive at the hotel at 11:48 PM.

By the time I unpack and wash up, it’s past 1 AM.

The air conditioning is broken, leaving the room hot and humid.

My cold symptoms worsen; every cough feels like my throat is tearing.

“Ugh…”

Inaye Lee 9-dan gets medicine as soon as morning comes, but it only dulls the pain and eases symptoms slightly.

A cold lasts seven days, medicine or not.

I sleep the whole day, but fever and sweat wake me repeatedly.

The quality of sleep is abysmal.

I drag my heavy body to the match venue.

During a sleepless night, I briefly watched TV. The Chinese Go community is buzzing about Yun Hui 5-dan’s victory over Inaye Lee 9-dan.

They treat her win as a foregone conclusion, dismissing me as an overrated nobody who got lucky.

In a daze, I pull myself together for the pre-match interview. Reality feels fragmented, passing by in a blur.

Yun Hui 5-dan.

Dressed to the nines, she looks like a fairy from a legend.

“…Get it together.”

Sitting at the board, I mutter to myself, trying to focus.

But the grid lines blur, and my hands tremble just picking up a stone.

Yun Hui 5-dan takes white.

I play my first move with shaking hands.

No strategies or opening plans come to mind.

I can only chase faint, weak instincts.

It’s a mess. Worse than when I played online Go at my grandfather’s house during a long break.

My stones lack strength or conviction.

Midgame.

I know it. She knows it. Probably everyone watching knows the outcome is decided.

Fine. I’ll rest well today.

It’s my fault for not managing my condition.

With that thought, I prepare to throw in my stones to rest sooner.

Yun Hui 5-dan meets my listless gaze, smirks, and places her stone.

A move that benefits the opponent.

Not a mistake.

Clear intent.

Something inside me snaps.