"Hey, did you hear? Shimada-senpai seems to have lost!"
"Matsumoto-senpai made it into the reward tournant as a first-dan player, and he lost too?"
"Yeah, and I heard the challenger is just a first-year! Now it's Shimada, the club president, taking him on! As soon as everyone heard, they rushed over!"
"What?! Shimada is a second-dan player, ranked in the top 10 among high school shogi players nationwide! He's the strongest in our school's history and is expected to reach third-dan before graduation. That freshman is in trouble!"
Two students hurried down the hallway and soon arrived at the clubroom, where seven or eight other students had already gathered. In the center of the crowd, two students were locked in a ga of shogi.
Seeing this, the two newcors instinctively held their breath and stepped lightly. Luckily, the shogi club's room was big enough, and there weren't too many people, so they quickly found a spot to watch. But as soon as they saw the board, they both gasped.
What an intense ga!
Fortunately, Shimada was in control. If he kept his advantage through the middle ga and carried it into the endga, that first-year would definitely lose.
Suddenly, a chilling aura filled the room. The club president, Shimada, was about to unleash his ultimate move. He suddenly moved a piece that had barely been touched in the corner of the board. The mont it landed, a powerful pressure surged across the board, hitting the spectators like a tidal wave.
"Static Rook! That's the president's specialty! He's finally making his move!"
The club mbers watching were thrilled, already picturing their president crushing this cocky freshman.
Shimada shifted from defense to offense, attacking aggressively. Every move was precise and sharp, each one carrying the weight of a finishing blow. If the dead-eyed freshman made even the slightest mistake, he'd be completely trapped.
But to everyone's surprise, the first-year remained calm. As soon as Shimada placed a piece, he responded instantly—less than three seconds apart!
Shimada abruptly looked up, narrowing his eyes at the freshman, who was still as composed as ever. Then, out of nowhere, he let out a low, eerie laugh, as if saying, "If you want a fight, then let's fight." Their pace grew faster and faster.
Unlike other sports, speed in board gas isn't about physical motion—it's about how fast the brain can think. The room fell silent as everyone held their breath, afraid even the slightest sound might disturb their concentration.
Blades clashed, storms raged—each move was dangerously sharp. Attack, counter, attack, counter—the outco could shift in an instant.
At first, everyone thought the freshman would be defeated soon, but his endurance was shocking. After all, Shimada had a reputation—he was known as "Lightning Shimada" for his incredible speed in fast gas.
The ga had reached its peak, and the winner would be decided within the next few moves.
"It's finally happening."
That thought ran through every shogi club mber's mind. Almost as if responding to their anticipation, Shimada suddenly paused and looked up again, locking eyes with his opponent.
A smirk crept onto his face.
At that mont, it was as if thunder roared in everyone's ears.
A terrifying aura rose from Shimada, almost tangible, like a storm brewing, lightning flashing. Then, a deafening dragon's roar echoed through the room!
A dragon.
Like a dragon. No, it was a real dragon!
The Rook soared into a dragon, the Lance promoted into a stronger piece!
Three years had passed—this was it!
A golden dragon burst from the board, roaring to the heavens, sweeping away everything in its path. The once evenly matched ga had now completely shifted in Shimada's favor.
It was over.
The spectators sighed internally. Within a few more moves, this freshman would be utterly defeated.
But even with defeat all but certain, the first-year's face remained calm. His composure was admirable, but in the end, that was all it was.
Just as the boy with dead-fish eyes made his move, his hand moved slowly but surely, placing the piece with effortless ease. It was a simple move, yet it felt natural and seamless, as if it had always belonged there. The once-imposing, seemingly unstoppable kill formation dissolved like spring snow.
"Huh? Why isn't the president making a move?"
Everyone suddenly realized that President Shimada, who had been certain of victory just monts ago, was frozen in place. His hand, which had been about to deliver the final blow, hung in the air, unmoving.
One second... two seconds... ten seconds... a full minute passed, yet Shimada still hadn't made his next move. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, and even the slowest among the spectators could tell that sothing was off.
Finally, President Shimada slowly lowered his arm and looked up, eting the boy's gaze. He had thought those dead-fish eyes were nothing special, but now, they felt strangely unsettling—like a pair of eyes that could see right through him.
"You... Who are you? That was... the Dragon Slayer's move... Could it be... a Divine Hand?!"
Shimada stared in disbelief at the boy across from him. "No way... Are you SAI?!"
"?"
"Sorry, I got too into the ga. Wrong scene."
Hikigaya stood up and bowed. "Thank you for your guidance, senpai."
Shimada let out an awkward chuckle before sothing clicked in his mind. "No need to be so modest. But your strategy and playstyle... they seem oddly familiar..."
Hikigaya didn't answer. Instead, Matsumoto, who had been watching the whole ti, suddenly spoke up. "The Eternal Seven-Crown Dragon King!"
"That's it! The strategy and playstyle... they're exactly like the Eternal Dragon King's!"
Now that Matsumoto ntioned it, Shimada finally realized it too.
The title of Eternal Dragon King wasn't just any title—it belonged to one of the strongest players in the history of shogi, a master who held seven eternal titles. His tactics, style, and ga records had been studied and analyzed by countless players who ca after him.
"It's just a poor imitation," Hikigaya admitted. "To be honest, I also studied your past gas before this match, while you knew nothing about my playstyle. So winning this round was really just luck."
Shimada was montarily stunned. Regardless of whether that was true or not, he appreciated the younger student offering him a way to save face. It made him feel a bit more fond of him.
After the match, Shimada invited Hikigaya to join the shogi club. Hikigaya shook his head and made up an excuse to decline.
"Well, I suppose there are more important things than club activities in this school," Shimada said, not pushing any further. He then gave Hikigaya a aningful look. "A bet's a bet. I've already sent the points to you."
"Thank you, senpai."
With that, Hikigaya got up and left the clubroom.
"Class D, huh? Looks like this year's first-years are sothing else."
Shimada muttered to himself as he watched Hikigaya's retreating figure.
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