novelraw Chapter 238: The Dual Kings of the Board
Chapter 238: The Dual Kings of the Board
Something was off in the Iron Fortress lately.
No one could pinpoint exactly what it was, but the entire city seemed to be
spiraling into a bizarre, collective fervor. The catalyst was a quiet release on
the third floor of the Evernight Mall, in the Entertainment District: two new,
seemingly simple products.
Chess and Gomoku (Five-in-a-Row).
It wasn't that this world lacked board games. On the contrary, the Elves had
their Astrolabe Chess, the Dwarves had Runic Tiles, and the Human Kingdoms had
Courtier's Gambit. But those games shared a common trait: they were
prohibitively expensive. A basic set of Courtier's Gambit, with pieces carved
from monster bone and a board made of century-old golden silkwood, cost enough
to feed a family of four for a lifetime. They were the pastimes of nobles and
royalty; the commoners were never invited to the table.
Kaito had recognized this vacuum immediately.
Thus, Chess and Gomoku—games with simple rules and production costs so low they
were practically negligible—were born. Kaito had merely transmitted the rules
and board layouts through the Soul Link to Skele-Greed.
Greed handled the rest with his usual terrifying efficiency. The Empire's
Secretary of State possessed a commercial nose that was sharper than any living
merchant's. He didn't just order the factories to mass-produce the sets using
cheap timber and scrap stone; he immediately organized a city-wide "Dual-Kings
Championship" across the Iron Fortress.
The grand prize? Ten gold coins. Runner-up? Five. Third place? A single gold
coin.
The day the notices were posted, the Iron Fortress reached a boiling point. Ten
gold coins! That was enough to book a private suite in the Empire's finest
restaurant for a full year, order the entire menu, and still have enough left to
hire three Dark Elf minstrels to play during dinner!
The third-floor counters of the Evernight Mall were swamped. Countless citizens
clutched their copper coins, frantically snatching up the crude wooden boxes.
Half of them didn't even know how to play yet, but that was irrelevant. What
mattered was the potential for ten gold coins.
Over time, the motivation shifted from simple greed to genuine obsession. People
discovered that these "games" were... addictive. Two minds huddled over a tiny
board, engaging in a battle of wits, calculating their opponent's every breath.
The rush of finally lining up five stones or achieving a checkmate—the sense of
accomplishment was more satisfying than a flagon of the finest ale.
Consequently, the parks of the Iron Fortress gained a new, peculiar landscape.
Greed, with his usual foresight, had commissioned craftsmen to cast dozens of
stone gaming tables in the public squares. From dawn until dusk, these tables
were surrounded by crowds—players, spectators, and self-appointed "grandmasters"
shouting advice from the sidelines.
"Jump the Knight, you fool! You're blocking your own line!" "Move the Elephant!
Protect the General!" "He's got four in a row! Are you blind?! Block the line
before he finishes the five!" "Ignore the peanut gallery! Focus!"
A cacophony of accents and arguments rose and fell, turning the park into a
noisy marketplace of strategy. And today, the epicenter of this chaos was the
most inconspicuous stone table in the far corner.
Kaito had been sitting there all morning. From the moment the park gates opened,
he hadn't moved from his stool. According to the park's "Winner Stays" rule, the
victor kept the seat while the loser rotated out.
The line of challengers before Kaito had exceeded twenty. Orcs, Elves, Dwarves,
Humans—even a Succubus who tried to use mental interference to cheat. Without
exception, all had been systematically dismantled within ten moves.
"Next!"
Kaito tapped a black stone against the table, the sharp clack echoing through
the quiet of the corner. From the long queue, a white-haired human elder elbowed
his way to the front, looking remarkably energetic for his age. He held a stiff,
laminated card high in the air.
"I'm using a Priority Plate!"
A collective groan of disappointment rippled through the crowd. Priority Plates
were special items sold in the Mall's Entertainment District—only ten were
released per day. Their sole function was to allow the holder to bypass any
queue in the park's gaming sector and jump straight to the front.
Kaito extended a bony hand. "Show me the plate."
The old man handed it over. Kaito held it up to the Light of Evernight, flicked
it with a finger bone to hear the ring, and inspected the ink. "Mmh. The plate
is authentic. The magical anti-counterfeit seal is clear, and the date is
current."
Kaito handed it back. "Sit."
The old man didn't hesitate, dropping onto the stool opposite Kaito. His eyes
burned with a competitive fire as he stared at the board. "Young skeleton,
today, I shall be the one to terminate your streak."
Kaito's soulfire flickered. This pops has spirit.
Kaito was currently playing Gomoku. It wasn't that he disliked Chess, but the
current state of Chess in the Empire was... chaotic. The populace was still in a
"experimental" phase where 'The Knight moves in a square' and 'The Cannon jumps
over three pieces' were common arguments. He'd even seen a player charge his
King into the front lines, claiming the King was the strongest unit. Kaito felt
that playing Chess with them would lower his own tactical IQ until they
eventually defeated him through sheer, illogical experience.
"Old-timer, seeing as you're up there in years, your eyesight must be failing
you," Kaito said smoothly, his hand naturally drifting toward the box of black
stones. "These black pieces are hard to see against the stone; they're a real
strain on the eyes. Since I'm 'young' and have perfect night vision, I'll take
the black. You take the white—they're much easier to track."
The old man's eyes narrowed. His hand moved like a striking viper, pinning
Kaito's hand to the table.
"Wait," the old man rumbled. "Skeleton, I admire your craftiness. Truly."
He leaned in, his voice dropping. "But I think I'll take the black pieces. I'm
old; I don't mind a little 'extra effort' for my eyes. It's the burden of the
elder, you see."
Kaito gave him an impressed look. Not bad. Only a few days in and people have
already figured out the first-move advantage.
"Pops, you misunderstand," Kaito said with a facade of total sincerity. "I'm not
taking black to gain an advantage. I'm doing it for your reputation! If you win
using the white stones, you'll be a legend—the man who overcame the disadvantage
of the second move! If you lose, well, everyone will say it was because the
skeleton cheated and took the first turn. It's a win-win for you! Am I right,
people?"
The surrounding crowd, always eager for more drama, began to cheer.
"Yeah! Let him have the black, Old Bobby!" "If you win with white, you're the
new King of the Park!"
Bobby, find himself backed into a corner by public opinion, huffed, his face
turning a shade of mottled red. Finally, he gritted his teeth and released
Kaito's hand.
"Fine! Take the black! Let's see if your 'advantage' can save you from me!"
Kaito pulled the box of black stones toward him, his internal monologue cackling
with glee.
The game began.
Kaito's first stone hit the exact center of the board—the Tianyuan point.
Dominant. Aggressive. Logical.
Bobby remained unmoved. After a long period of contemplation, he placed his
first white stone nearby. Stones began to populate the board as the two traded
turns. The crowd held its collective breath, watching the silent, abstract
slaughter.
Sweat began to bead on Bobby's forehead. He realized that every move he made was
being countered with surgical precision. When he tried to form an "Open Three,"
Kaito was already there to seal the line. When he tried to pivot to defense,
Kaito's stones seemed to manifest out of thin air from an impossible angle,
creating a new offensive vector.
He's too strong. This skeleton's depth is bottomless.
As Bobby held a white stone between his fingers, hovering indecisively over the
board, Kaito placed his next black stone with a sharp clack.
The position looked ordinary. Borderline redundant.
Bobby paused, failing to grasp the intent. But his instincts—honed by decades of
street-level survival—screamed of danger. His hand began to tremble
uncontrollably. Cold sweat trickled down his temple.
Where is the break? Where is the opening?!
There was no opening. The entire board was now a seamless, suffocating net. He
had lost. He had been lost since the third turn, though he was only just
realizing it now.
"Kekeke!"
A raspy, clicking laugh erupted from Kaito's jaw. He rose slowly from the stone
stool, spreading his arms wide like an artist unveiling a masterpiece.
"Face reality, Old-timer!"
"Behold... the Briefs Formation!"
"Once the 'Briefs' are donned, the Double-Three and the Open-Four are
inevitable! Attack and defense as one! The heavens weep, the earth trembles! No
one can solve it! No one can stop it!"
Bobby stared at the pattern of black stones. It did, in a very abstract sense,
resemble a pair of briefs. He slumped back, his mind reeling. He shook his head,
muttering to himself.
"Impossible... impossible... there must be a flaw!"
"My Pig-Nose Strategy... it was supposed to be the ultimate counter! How could
it fail?!"
He reached out with a shaking hand to clear the board for a rematch, but Kaito's
bony fingers pressed down on his wrist.
"When you lose, you vacate the seat. That's the code of the park."
Kaito's voice carried the calm, crushing arrogance of a victor.
"Next!"
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