I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 69: The Sinai of Go

When the white stone landed, the boy across from Yu Shao wasted no time and immediately responded.

Click.

Column 15, Row 17—Extend!

Yu Shao, too, picked up a stone and dropped it onto the board almost simultaneously.

Click.

Column 14, Row 16—Extend!

These two moves were practically mandatory, requiring no deliberation.

“What’s next—jump out or fly out?”

“If he flies, the lower-right corner will become more secure and stable. But if he jumps, it’ll be more aggressive, aiming to build outer influence, possibly developing toward the center and encircling the white stones to create a massive formation!”

The boy’s eyes flickered as he considered his options for two seconds before making his move.

Click.

Column 13, Row 17—Jump!

“He jumped!”

“Black chose the most aggressive move!”

The spectators felt a chill at the sight of this move, as if the air around the board had grown heavy.

“If he had flown out, Black’s formation would’ve been solid. But he chose to jump!”

“That’s such a ruthless move!” one spectator exclaimed, staring at the board.

“Indeed, this is the most unrelenting, confrontational choice—utterly aggressive!”

On the other side of the board, Yu Shao calmly reached into his Go bowl.

Click.

With the soft clink of stones, he slowly withdrew one. Moments later, it landed on the board.

Click!

Column 14, Row 4—Shoulder Hit!

The crowd collectively froze, eyes wide, their bodies unconsciously leaning forward.

“He… ignored it?!”

“Facing Black’s most aggressive jump, White chose to respond even more aggressively by outright ignoring the threat and playing a tenuki with a Shoulder Hit in the upper-right corner?!”

The entire venue erupted in astonished murmurs.

The dojo trainee across from Yu Shao froze at the unexpected move. It took him a long moment to regain his composure.

He had jumped instead of flying precisely to assert dominance and maintain pressure. Yet White’s response completely sidestepped his intention, escalating the stakes instead.

Where did he get the nerve?!

After snapping out of his daze, frustration surged within him. He clenched his teeth, grabbed a stone, and swiftly placed it on the board.

Click!

Column 15, Row 4—Attach!

Despite wanting to launch a vengeful attack on White’s lower-right stones, the trainee’s instincts as a former dojo player kicked in. He realized that Black lacked sufficient follow-up moves to decisively enclose the lower-right corner.

Though begrudging, he chose to respond to the audacious Shoulder Hit instead.

Yu Shao’s eyes flickered as he quickly retrieved another stone from his bowl.

Click!

Column 14, Row 6—Jump!

The moves came rapid-fire. The stones on the board, black and white alike, spread across the board like a swelling tide, surging outward with incredible momentum.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Stone after stone landed as the players exchanged blows.

But as the game progressed, the boy across from Yu Shao began to falter. His confident demeanor gave way to confusion and even disbelief.

At first, he played rapidly, but his pace soon slowed noticeably.

“What’s going on?”

Zheng Qin and He Yu, who had been following the game closely, leaned in with expressions of growing astonishment and bewilderment.

“How is this happening?!”

The same question echoed in both their minds.

Before long, the rest of the crowd began to notice the subtle shift in the game’s balance. Faces filled with shock and incredulity emerged around the board.

Yu Shao, unfazed, placed another stone.

Click!

Column 13, Row 7—Hane!

The crisp sound of the stone landing rang out sharply, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

The stone landed.

The boy sitting across from Yu Shao stared blankly at the board. His hand, poised to make the next move, froze mid-air.

The room was silent—eerily so.

Everyone’s faces were a mix of confusion and shock.

Ever since White had chosen the unexpected tenuki with the Shoulder Hit, the crowd had watched in astonishment as Black’s position grew increasingly passive with each subsequent move.

Now, looking at the board, it was clear: White had built up momentum at an astonishing pace, poised to strike. Black, on the other hand, had seen its potential for growth stifled, its development constrained.

Black had fallen behind—not in the middle game, but in the opening itself.

"No..."

The boy across from Yu Shao muttered, his expression dazed.

"This... this isn’t possible."

"How could this happen?!"

Though White’s Shoulder Hit had surprised him, he was confident that his responses afterward were flawless.

How could the situation have spiraled like this?

Across the board, Yu Shao remained silent, his gaze fixed on the stones.

In his previous life, the advent of Go AI had brought the Go world not just transformative change, but also despair.

Take the diagonal Small Point with an Unassailable Corner, for example. Initially, players believed that forming two Unassailable Corners created an impenetrable structure, leading them to counter with a Small Knight’s Approach.

As time passed, players began to recognize the weaknesses of the Unassailable Corner, and the Small Knight’s Approach was dismissed as a bad move—obsolete, unfit for modern play.

Then AI arrived and upended everything.

The Unassailable Corner wasn’t flawless, but the Small Knight’s Approach remained a viable strategy after all.

The theories and strategies painstakingly developed by human players over centuries—their proudest achievements—were exposed as flawed. Even the strategies they had deemed outdated or erroneous were sometimes revealed to be effective.

It was as though the collective understanding of Go masters through the ages had been fundamentally wrong. And yet, no one could argue against the AI’s findings.

This was the most devastating blow Go AI delivered to humanity’s confidence: the shattering of belief, replaced by a profound sense of powerlessness.

You thought you were moving forward, but in reality, you were standing still—or even retreating. Worse, AI told you that you had taken the wrong path from the very beginning.

The result was a mix of absurdity and despair, a cruel irony that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Go AI stood atop the Sinai of Go, gazing down like a divine entity. It trampled mercilessly upon the pride of human players, their accomplishments crushed underfoot.

Time ticked by.

The boy across from Yu Shao stared at the board, lost in deep thought.

Around them, the spectators waited in silence, not a trace of impatience on their faces.

They were pondering too—trying to understand why Black had fallen behind. The most unsettling aspect of it all was that Black’s position hadn’t deteriorated due to a single blunder. It had simply, subtly, slipped away.

After a long pause, the boy bit his lip.

"I still don’t understand how I fell behind in the opening."

"But don’t think that an early advantage means you’ve already won."

He took a deep breath, his eyes burning with determination.

"The middle game and endgame are where the real battles are fought!"

His voice was filled with defiance as he reached into his Go bowl, retrieved a stone, and brought it down forcefully.

Click!

Column 13, Row 8—Cut!

"The true arena of battle lies here!"