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Chapter 152 The Drinking Game (1)

“Please, spare me. Vikir. Please! Just once!”

A newbie Tudor who dreams of becoming a great hero, once always confident and bold, is now desperately begging.

“Ugh. Am I going to die like this? … Alright, kill me. Anyway, it’s impossible to beg for mercy from Vikir.”

Sancho, the aspiring mercenary king aiming for the North’s supreme position, also faces death with unwavering determination.

“Vikir! How could you betray us?! How could you do this to me?!”

Blood is just blood. But as he believed in Vikir more than anyone else, Figgy was the most disappointed when the last moment came and the knife was thrust in.

…But Vikir mercilessly killed his friends.

“If you can’t be of use to me, you die.”

Vikir’s voice rang out dryly.

At the same time, a pair of Go stones moved.

Pieces of various colors moved across the spacious board.

Vikir’s black horse devoured Tudor’s blue horse, Sancho’s red horse, and Figgy’s yellow horse.

At the same time, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy returned to their original starting line.

…With four empty glasses.

“Oh, I lost again! Why is this guy so good at board games?!”

“He’s probably had at least one liter of soju already.”

“…I feel like throwing up.”

Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy rolled the dice diligently all the way until now, watching the distance they had covered reset in an instant, and seeing the glasses piling up before them, they frowned.

Meanwhile, the female students were in an uproar, laughing and chatting.

“Vikir, you’re really good at board games.”

“Do you have a secret to throwing the dice?”

“He’s like someone who only eats and plays games! Hahaha!”

Wearing sweatpants, light makeup, and a faint soap smell instead of perfume. It was the everyday attire of the usually reserved academy girls.

Late at night, male students who had sneaked into the girls’ dormitory were enjoying the atmosphere of the drinking party with excited hearts.

Late at night, the lover boys led by Tudor secretly escaped from the boys’ dormitory to infiltrate the girls’ dormitory.

The girls had already broken one of the locks on the window in the corner of the first-floor bathroom, and the boys infiltrated through the first floor, climbed up the drainage pipe to the second floor, and then the emergency exit to the third floor, finally making it to the fourth floor, the girls’ territory.

Of course, there were moments when they were on the verge of being caught by the duty officers, but today, the surveillance of the supervisors was unusually lax.

Perhaps they didn’t want to crack down so harshly on the secret meetings of the fresh young men and women.

…Well, anyway.

That’s how the male and female students gathered in one room, playing board games.

The game was called “Yut,” and most of the penalties were related to drinking soju, but some spaces had individual penalties when the pieces landed.

For example, “Hold hands with the person you like for 5 seconds,” “Kiss the forehead of the person with red on their clothes for 10 seconds,” “Hug the person in front of you for 30 seconds,” and so on.

There were almost penalties at every space, and as they approached the finish line, the stakes rose.

“…What’s this? It’s not a drinking game; it’s a dating game.”

Someone who was looking at the Yut board grumbled.

It was Bianca, sitting on the bed in her training clothes.

Then Tudor spoke up.

“Are you too lonely because there’s no one you want to date?”

“Maybe look in a mirror, idiot.”

Once again, a skirmish broke out between Tudor and Bianca.

Then, Sinclaire, who was next to them, intervened.

“Hey, why are you all like this? We’re just having fun.”

Sinclaire laughed like a gentle puppy.She, who usually had a flawless image in her neat school uniform, looked quite unfamiliar in a loose tank top and dolphin shorts.

Then the male students started whispering to each other.

“…Hmm. Maybe we should have paid less attention to our clothes?”

“Are you a fool? Do you think they didn’t pay attention to their clothes? That’s their battle gear, man.”

Just as Sancho and Tudor were bickering.

“Yut.”

Vikir moved the pieces again.

Tudor and Sancho’s pieces were eaten again.

And then.

“Yut.”

“Mo.”

“Yut.”

“Mo.”

“Yut.”

“Mo.”

“Backdo.”

Vikir’s dark horse, carrying out a chain massacre by strategically alternating forward and backward.

“Ugh! I died again! Hey, let’s have some different penalties!”

“…Just drink for the penalties.”

Tudor and Sancho regret bringing Vikir and picked up their glasses of soju.

Then, Dolores, the Saint, spoke up.

“Uh, guys… even though it’s like this, students and alcohol…”

She was sitting on her bed in an oversized t-shirt and comfortable shorts, contemplating a complex issue.

“Those kids came for volunteer work during the Golden Holiday. It’s okay for them to have a little fun. I won’t seem like an old fogey, right? But still, I should look a little sophisticated. Will I seem like an old fogey?”

Seeing Dolores’s contemplation, Tudor smiled and raised his glass.

“Don’t worry, President! This is not alcohol; it’s a soft drink!”

Finally, Dolores looked relieved.

Of course, she didn’t know that there were some trace amounts of alcohol in certain soft drinks.

Meanwhile, Vikir continued to dominate the board game.

Why was Vikir, who usually didn’t seek attention, performing so well in the game?

“…Brings back old memories.”

It was because of nostalgia.

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Yutnori, is a traditional Korean board game where players toss four sticks and move pieces based on the results, played by advancing or retreating, and the horse, dog, sheep, cow, and pig signs.

During the era of destruction, soldiers who were stationed in the field, either in ambush or on standby, often played this game.

It wasn’t particularly fun, but there weren’t many board games available in the military other than this one.

“…I remember playing this game endlessly while waiting in a foxhole at the 7th Plataue of the Western Front.”

In the prolonged war and the prolonged standoff with the enemy, soldiers occasionally had free moments in their daily lives.

At that time, among the few amusements that men could enjoy, Yutnori was one of them.

Back then, it was an old-fashioned game, often played only by soldiers on the front lines, and there were many seasoned players, or card sharks, as the game could have been more interesting.

“…Well, with throws like that, they would have been cleaned out by soldiers earning not much more than them.”

During the era of destruction, most soldiers on the front lines were drawn to such amusements.

Vikir didn’t particularly like gambling, but he often ended up playing it with his superiors, which made him quite skilled.

Tak!

Yut, then Saribang, and Backdo.

Vikir’s dark horse moved forward and devoured one of Sinclaire’s white horses, which was five spaces ahead.Then, in the next turn, it moved back one space and ate another of Sinclaire’s white horses.

Two white horses were rolled back to the starting line.

Sinclaire, who had lost two pieces, said with a teary voice, “Big Brother! Are you a pro gamer? Why are you so good at this? It’s frustrating to lose even in games when I’m already lagging behind in my studies…”

She called him “Big brother” instead of “Oppa.”

Tudor, who had lost five horses to Vikir, asked in amazement, “No, you’re good at Yut, dice, and cards… Is there any game you’re not good at?”

“None.”

Vikir said firmly.

His overwhelming confidence made everyone in the room cheer.

“Vikir! Vikir! Can I ride on your horse?”

“Um, can I see your face? Hehe, can I shave your bangs just once?”

“Can you take off your glasses and play, huh?”

“Aren’t you feeling stuffy? Shall I cut your hair a bit, especially your bangs?”

Some female students subtly approached Vikir and touched his arms, knees, or shoulders.

And another female student showed interest in Vikir.

“…You’re good at board games?”

It was none other than the Student Council President, Dolores.

“Then, perhaps you also know how to play ‘Baduk’ (Go)?”

She was confident about this one game, even if she didn’t know others.

Finally, Vikir nodded.

“I can play a bit.”

“Really? What’s your level in Baduk?”

“…Around 2nd dan.”

Dolores smiled inwardly.

“2nd Dan, huh. That’s not bad to brag about.”

By the way, she was an amateur 5-dan player.

From a young age, there was no one within the family who could challenge her in Baduk, so they had to bring in external instructors. During her first year, she was the ace of the Baduk club, and in her second year, she even took on the role of the club president with great enthusiasm.

…Although it was disbanded later because no new students joined.

Afterward, no one played Baduk with her, and most people here didn’t know how to play Baduk at all.

Dolores also became busier with various tasks, making it difficult for her to find time for a leisurely game of Baduk. Consequently, her hobby naturally drifted away.

But now, here is a young man boasting about being good at all board games, with a meager 2nd dan level in Baduk.

“Wow, President! Are you going to play against Vikir?!”

“Unni, you’re so cool!”

“Our club president excels at everything, and she’s a newcomer specialized in board games! How will the match turn out?!”

The atmosphere and the cheers from those around were welcoming Dolores’s participation.

Dolores, pretending not to lose to the enthusiasm around her, got up from her bed.

She had only watched board games from a distance and didn’t know how to play until now, but things were different today.

The only board game she knew how to play and played exceptionally well was Baduk.

It had been a while since she had set up a board like this.

“Shall we enjoy a game for a change?”

She held up the portable Baduk board that Tudor had brought.

An amateur 5-dan player concealed her strength.

The difference in strength between Dolores and Vikir was like night and day.

And she was keeping this fact a secret as she sat down to play Baduk.

“What do you think about a penalty of one glass of soju for each house?”

Dolores boldly suggested penalties, and the students who had been previously overwhelmed by Vikir cheered.

And then…

“…All right.”

As usual, Vikir nonchalantly nodded in agreement, as he had done all along.

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