Chapter 180: Semifinal Storm — Genius vs. Ghosts of the Past
The day of the semifinals dawned crisp and quiet.
Unlike the previous rounds, which were held in spacious public venues filled with murmuring audiences and clicking cameras, the semifinal stage took place in complete isolation. The room—bare and sealed—was built to filter out every trace of the outside world. No ambient sounds. No shifting crowds. Not even staff members except for the referee.
In the quiet sanctum of that match room, only three people existed.
Two players.
And one judge.
Outside, thousands of viewers crowded around screens. Commentators whispered play-by-plays in hushed, reverent tones. But in here, nothing but the tick of the chess clock and the soft click of pieces.
Yukima Azuma sat on one side of the standard seven-sun shogi board, expression unreadable, hands calm. He exhaled slowly, grounding himself in the moment.
Across from him sat his opponent—a man in his late forties, dressed in a formal kimono, fingers twitching slightly over the board. A veteran 9-dan professional, but one whose name barely stirred recognition in Azuma’s memory.
Unlike Kiyotaki Kousuke, who had long since retired in triumph with titles under his belt, this man still clawed desperately for a seat at the table.
Azuma narrowed his eyes.
He knew many of Kousuke’s old rivals. His teacher had taken him around Japan as a child, introducing him to legends of the shogi world. But this man? This man had never come up. Not even once.