Translator: Dreamscribe
Alexei’s face turned red.
He felt deeply embarrassed to have his own words thrown back at him. But as a top-class chess player, he quickly regained his composure.
“Of course. Naturally, I should wager something too.”
Alexei looked at the trophies he had acquired. Then, as if introducing a product, he extended his hand palm-up.
“How about all of these?”
“Huh? All of that?”
Yu Seo-ha asked again in surprise.
“Yeah, but there's a condition.”
“I’m listening.”
“If you lose, sign my chessboard. With the phrase, ‘I did my best, but I couldn’t beat Alexei.’”
In that moment, Seo-ha recalled something Woo-hyun had said in the past.
‘Let’s say you become a great mathematician someday and solve a Millennium Problem. Then some Russian guy appears on TV and says Yu Seo-ha’s chess skills were nothing, that he was no match for him.’
Shiver.
Goosebumps rose.
Just as Woo-hyun had said, if Alexei ever got the chance, he would definitely present that chessboard as evidence.
“Why would you ask for something like that?”
Still, Seo-ha asked just in case.
“Because, Kiddie, no, Seo-ha, it looks like you’ve got enough potential to become someone big in the near future. Honestly, I bet everyone here is thinking the same.”
Alexei glanced around.
A few who had acted especially friendly toward Seo-ha turned their heads awkwardly.
Alexei looked at them and smirked.
“Well? Do you still want to go through with it?”
Looking at Alexei’s serious expression, Seo-ha nodded.
“Of course! Because I won’t lose.”
Since his practice sessions with Woo-hyun, Seo-ha had been consistently studying chess. He had developed a few strategies along the way, and he was eager to test them out.
“Good. Just so you know, I’m really weak at fast games. The longer I get to think, the stronger I become. So you’d better stay sharp.”
From a young age, Alexei had never been good at speed chess. He often lost to opponents he could have easily beaten if he’d just had a bit more time.
“Then how about we play classic instead of rapid?”
In rapid, each player has 10 to 60 minutes. Classic is over 60 minutes.
Seeing Seo-ha make a proposal that actually worked in Alexei’s favor, he was startled.
“What?”
Was this recklessness?
If it was, Alexei thought he’d make sure to punish him thoroughly. But the words that came out of Seo-ha’s mouth were completely different from what he’d expected.
“Because I want to face you at your strongest.”
The smile disappeared from Alexei’s face.
“Don’t blame me if you regret this later.”
In the first game, Alexei had underestimated Seo-ha and didn’t play his best moves. Since Seo-ha was a kid with little chess experience, it wasn’t unreasonable to let his guard down. But now he was fully prepared.
Besides, if it was classic, he was confident he could beat anyone.
“Even if I lose, that won’t happen.”
Alexei nodded.
He had thought Seo-ha was just a sweet little boy, but he was a man deserving of respect.
“You know what? I genuinely want to get your signature on that chessboard now.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Alexei began to reset the chessboard.
“If it’s classic, then this is a real duel. Are both of you ready?”
Hans asked as he reset the clock.
Seo-ha and Alexei both nodded at the same time.
“Then start!”
After the coin toss, Alexei got white, and Seo-ha got black.
Tap.
Alexei played e4 as his first move.
King’s Pawn Opening - the most classical and aggressive opening. It was the same move as in the previous game, but the feeling was entirely different.
After a brief thought, Seo-ha responded with c5. The Sicilian Defense.
“Sicilian, huh...”
Alexei murmured softly.
An opening that favors complex tactical battles over balance. It was a sign that Seo-ha didn’t want a standard game.
Alexei started using his time from the opening, calculating his moves.
After ten minutes of thought, he played Nf3. And from that moment, his true skill began to show.
Brian, the Kentucky champion, was estimated to have a rating of 2,100. Alexei, who had beaten him in a non-specialty speed match, should be rated over 2,300. Only 200 points shy of Grandmaster level.
With ample time, Alexei was formidable.
Unlike the previous game where he had relied on experience and patterns, Alexei now used sufficient time for each move, gradually taking control of the overall game.
Once the game passed the 15th move, Yu Seo-ha realized he was in a far tougher situation than he had expected.
‘This guy is really strong.’
His intentions were being read in advance.
“Bd3.”
Alexei developed his bishop, aiming at Seo-ha’s kingside. It looked like a simple move, but there was complex calculation behind it.
The students watching the game hurriedly brought out chessboards and began replaying Alexei and Seo-ha’s moves.
“Isn’t this move fatal?”
“No, look. If he does this...”
“Alexei’s got the advantage, 6:4... no, 7:3.”
Meanwhile, Seo-ha was feeling a powerful inner urge.
He had not given Ducky any time throughout the entire day.
The unresolved frustration was violently swirling, searching for an outlet. With every movement of a chess piece, he instinctively tried to calculate all possible scenarios.
‘Alright, Ducky. Do as you wish.’
Seo-ha released the compulsive switch. And then began focusing intensely on the chessboard.
Tap, tap.
Seo-ha’s fingers tapped the table rhythmically.
Inside his head, the chessboard unfolded like a three-dimensional hologram.
Seo-ha’s vision completely changed. Instead of an 8 x 8 grid, it transformed into a mathematical space where 64 coordinate points were connected in a complex vector network.
Each piece’s position, along with every possible path of movement, was being calculated and displayed in real time. The knight had eight L-shaped vectors, the bishop infinite diagonal lines, the rook vertical and horizontal crosses.
Ducky’s obsessive perfectionism made all of this possible.
There were currently 21 possible move combinations, 18 potential responses from Alexei for each, totaling 378 scenarios for just two moves.
But Seo-ha didn’t stop there.
Three moves, four, five... the exponentially increasing possibilities began forming a massive structure in his mind.
Generally, professional chess players read 8 to 12 moves ahead. But Seo-ha was calculating more than 20 simultaneously.
Each option had its win rate calculated in real time. And he derived the optimal result. However, the game was already heavily tilted - he needed a mistake from his opponent.
‘Found it.’
There was a single moment, in the midgame, where a Windmill (a tactic where a knight and rook repeatedly check and attack, sweeping up the opponent’s pieces) could be triggered.
The probability was 50:50, but that was worth taking a chance on.
While Alexei attacked the queenside, a window of opportunity for counterattack would open.
Tap.
Seo-ha moved his piece.
“Huh?”
The students who were replaying the game wore confused expressions.
"A self-destructive move?"
"It seems completely finished?"
“There’s no saving that.”
Sighs erupted from the gallery. The move clearly looked like a mistake.
Even Alexei looked at Seo-ha in surprise. But he quickly regained his composure and advanced his piece to end the game.
However, Seo-ha didn’t flinch.
As the game progressed, Alexei’s attacks were being blocked more easily than expected. Even in positions where he thought he would gain big advantages, things strangely slipped, and he ended up with only minimal results.
Despite that, Alexei was confident of victory. Seo-ha’s queenside was exposed, and his own pieces were in perfect positions.
Alexei advanced his queen. Qh5+.
That was when it happened.
Tap!
Seo-ha’s knight suddenly jumped out to d4.
“What?”
By pulling his queen out for the attack, the defense around Alexei’s king had loosened just slightly.
Believing it was an easy win, he hadn’t calculated deeply - and that was the problem.
Alexei furrowed his brow and began rapidly reading the moves. Then he realized.
All of Seo-ha’s moves, which he had dismissed as mere desperate attempts, were actually camouflage to conceal the Windmill.
A single moment of carelessness had led to a major blunder.
The knight targeted the queen, but it couldn't move. The bishop and rook’s web, layered three and four times over, continued to aim at the king. Meanwhile, the knight danced across the chessboard.
“Check.”
Tap.
“Check.”
Rook, bishop, even the queen.
Seo-ha began eliminating Alexei’s major pieces one by one.
“How many moves ahead did he read? Fifteen?”
Hans murmured in disbelief.
“No, way more than that.”
Brian answered with a trembling voice.
“Do you think a player like Alexei would fall for a Windmill trick that easily? He must’ve read at least over twenty moves ahead. And even pulled psychological tactics along the way.
Once Kiddie showed a weakness, he must’ve panicked. I would’ve moved my queen too if it were me.”
Finally, Seo-ha’s knight delivered the final check.
“Checkmate.”
Seo-ha’s quiet declaration echoed.
There was nowhere left to escape. Every route was cut off by Seo-ha’s pieces.
Alexei raised his head to look at Seo-ha and gave a faint smile.
"I resign."
By now, students who had heard the rumors had gathered in the lobby. Everyone surrounded the chessboard, making their own analyses and evaluations.
At Alexei’s declaration of defeat, they all erupted in cheers.
“Waaaaah!”
“Kiddie won!”
“That was a freaking insane Windmill.”
Even Do-kyung, who had been watching from the corner, came running out, bouncing with joy.
Amid the students’ cheers, Seo-ha’s consciousness slowly returned to reality. He moved his hand slightly and straightened the skewed chessboard to make it parallel with the table.
“That was amazing. You completely fooled me.”
Alexei offered a handshake.
“That was fun.”
Seo-ha beamed and accepted the handshake.
The world of chess was deeper and more mysterious than Seo-ha had imagined. There was no way it had all been calculated, yet Alexei had instinctively avoided dangerous spots. Because of that, Seo-ha’s calculations were disrupted, and he had to struggle.
“May I borrow a pen for a moment?”
At Seo-ha’s words, Alexei looked confused. Seo-ha took a marker, flipped the chessboard over, and wrote on it.
[Alexei, the best chess player I’ve ever faced]
When Alexei read it, he frowned.
“You said you only ever played with one person!”
“But you’re still the best.”
At Seo-ha’s words, Alexei gave a wry smile.
"I hope you'll say that even when you become famous later."
The snacks piled on the table were all returned to their original owners. However, thanks to all the gifts they received in appreciation, the Korean team was able to enjoy a lavish final party.
***
On the bus to the airport,
Everyone wore relaxed expressions and wide grins.
“Are you that happy?”
Su-jeong gave a glare, but Do-kyung, pretending not to hear, lovingly stroked the bronze medal hanging from his neck.
“We came in second place overall, second! We did so much better than last year! Especially Ji-hoon!”
Korea won 2 gold medals, 1 silver medal, and 3 bronze medals, earning second place overall. The surprising silver medalist was none other than Sung Ji-hoon.
“I was with Seo-ha the whole time, in both Korea and the UK. I learned so much from him.”
Ji-hoon, who had matured significantly during the IMO, bowed his head humbly.
“Ah! I was so shocked when my name was called during the ceremony.”
“I thought I totally blew it.”
“Me too.”
All three third-year students won bronze medals. Their faces were full of joyful smiles, having ended their final year on a high note.
“Still, Seo-ha was definitely the star.”
At Su-jeong’s words, everyone nodded.
“I didn’t expect them to score that generously either.”
On problems 4 and 5, where he had rushed through his answers, only 1 point each was deducted.
With a total score of 40, Seo-ha placed first individually in this IMO.
Online, Korea was already in a festive mood. The first IMO champion in years, and the youngest ever at 12 years old.
Su-jeong recalled the moment.
The IMO chairman stepped up to the podium and called the medalists’ names one by one.
"Gold Medal Winners,
Seoha Yu, Chen Lui, Sujeong Lim, Hans Müller, Alexei Volkov.... And Seoha Yu achieved the highest score!”
“I got third place again.”
However, Su-jeong considered herself effectively the second place winner. In her mind, she had excluded Seo-ha from the rankings long ago, placing him in a separate, untouchable category.
“Still, the Chinese kids had good manners.”
At Chang-seok’s comment, the third-year students nodded.
“Lu Yichen? I didn’t expect him to congratulate us first. Maybe he felt sorry for us since we didn’t win any medals last year?”
“But the head of their delegation and the coaches didn’t look too happy.”
The bus arrived at the airport, and they boarded the plane.
After a twelve-hour flight, they arrived in Korea by morning.
Thanks to their excellent performance, quite a few reporters were there to greet them.
One journalist hurried over to the students and held out a microphone.
“First, congratulations on your great results.
There’s word that the Chinese delegation has officially filed a challenge regarding the answer sheet of Yu Seo-ha, who placed first individually. Are you aware of this?”
““What?””
Everyone, still excited from their triumphant return, suddenly wore dumbfounded expressions in front of the cameras.