Chapter 777

Time back to a little earlier.

Morimoto Yūki took the first move, his fingertips picking up a "Bishop," starting with a swift "Side Pawn Picker" opening.

This is a popular layout in modern shogi with a great sense of speed, aiming to quickly seize the center and pressure the second-move side.

When he placed the piece, his wrist exerted force, and the piece tapped a crisp and loud "clack" on the nutmeg shogi board, full of momentum.

When looking at Natsume Chikage, his chin was slightly raised, his eyes carrying the superiority of a 2-dan in the Shogi Association who was about to knock on the door of a professional shogi player.

Natsume Chikage's gaze only stayed on the new formation for a moment.

Almost at the same time as the "click" sound of Morimoto Yūki pressing the shogi clock sounded, his right hand had already swept past like a dragonfly touching water.

A "Rook" leaped out nimbly, landing in the steadiest defensive position on his side—the starting point of the "Yagura" prototype.

"Tap."

The sound of the piece landing was light and steady, forming a sharp contrast with the opponent's ostentation.

The speed was so fast, as if this fast attack with a provocative meaning from the opponent was just one of the thousands of conventional openings he had already previewed.

Morimoto Yūki's nostrils flared imperceptibly.

He just felt it was bluffing.

He chuckled in his heart.

"Yagura"?

Old-fashioned, thick, but too clumsy, just right for me to tear apart with a fast attack.

He quickly laid out the "Sparrow Stab" formation, his pieces leaning forward, his offensive fierce, a typical modern young shogi player style, pursuing a quick battle.

Natsume Chikage's response was still completed at the same instant Morimoto's shogi clock returned to its position.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The first eight moves of the opening alternated in a flash.

The "Yagura" formation built by Natsume Chikage looked slow and clumsy, but in every seemingly passive response, it precisely offset the edge of Morimoto's fast attack.

Every step he took landed in the most solid, most "standard" position in modern fixed-style theory.

No strange moves, no variations, yet it made those small means Morimoto tried to provoke local friction and create complex situations feel like a fist hitting cotton, with nowhere to exert force.

The initial mockery at the corner of Morimoto Yūki's mouth gradually solidified.

The force with which he pressed the shogi clock was heavier each time.

The game entered the mid-early stage, and Morimoto, according to the tactical manual he was familiar with, suddenly pushed a "Silver General" deep into the enemy formation, intending to create chaos and induce the opponent to make a mistake.

This was a typical probing move of the modern chaotic shogi style.

Natsume Chikage didn't even raise his eyelids an extra bit.

The moment Morimoto's fingers left the piece, his "Gold General" had already landed.

Not to fight with it, but a subtle "distant cover."

This step did not directly attack the advancing "Silver General," but like an invisible wall, it instantly cut off its connection with the main force in the rear, while also implicitly threatening the "Rook" channel on the other side of Morimoto that had not yet fully unfolded.

The relaxation on Morimoto Yūki's face disappeared completely.

He stared at this "distant cover," his fingers subconsciously gripping his knees tightly.

The timing and position of this "distant cover" were too good... why on earth could this Natsume Chikage not make a single mistake from the opening until now?

Wasn't it true that when he played against Tianbian Youren, Asahina Xiaoyue, and others, he had a lot of mistakes and a lot of piece losses?

How come the game today was so meticulous?

No.

Could it be that his own state had become worse?

It must be like this!

No, he couldn't be arrogant anymore; he thought it must be because of this that his state of mind was unstable, leading to mistakes.

But even if Morimoto Yūki intended to get serious.

Nowadays, it was a bit too late.

Before long.

The three counterattack routes he had anticipated appeared pale and powerless.

Attacking, the path was blocked; retreating, it was equivalent to giving away the first-move advantage for nothing.

On the timer, his reading of the seconds broke two minutes for the first time.

In the end, he chose the safest but also the most loss-making connection, barely keeping the "Silver General," but the first-move rhythm was lost.

When he pressed the shogi clock, the veins on the back of his hand were visible.

And Natsume Chikage's response was almost seamless.

The piece landed on the other side of the board, a seemingly plain "pawn" advance.

This "pawn," however, was like a precise nail, nailing shut the possibility of Morimoto trying to find a breakthrough from the flank, and opening a potential channel for his own "Rook" to reach the enemy's belly.

This piece seemed to land in Morimoto Yūki's heart.

His body shook slightly.

His pupils shrank.

He suddenly realized that the sense of space on the shogi board was being wantonly kneaded by the opponent's invisible palm.

His own pieces were clearly equal in number, yet they felt like they had fallen into a quagmire, their movements sluggish, and it was difficult for them to call out to each other.

And the opponent's formation, that seemingly clumsy "Yagura," was now as steady as a mountain, and like giant pincers slowly closing, exerting pressure gently but firmly from both flanks.

The cold sweat on his forehead finally gathered into beads and slid down.

Before pressing the shogi clock, he thought for a full five minutes.

When placing the piece, the sound of the piece contacting the board was already dull.

Natsume Chikage was still like a precision machine.

The observation was almost completed instantly, then taking the piece, placing the piece, all in one go.

The rhythm was constant, his expression waveless.

Entering the mid-game, Morimoto Yūki was driven into a corner.

He gritted his teeth, determined to take a risk.

He mobilized his precious "Bishop," throwing it into the deepest part of the enemy formation, attempting to create a complex "strangle" situation.

This was a chaotic shogi tactic he had studied deeply and had used many times to reverse the situation.

Natsume Chikage's gaze stayed on that "Bishop" deep in the belly for the first time for half a second.

Then... place the piece again!

Not mobilizing heavy pieces to surround and annihilate, nor defending in a panic.

But a light "Knight jump."

The position of this "Knight jump" was extremely subtle.

It wasn't very aggressive, but like a poisonous thorn, it hit exactly on the "tendon" of Morimoto's "Bishop" and its connection to the rear, making it fall into a "suspended" state, caught between a rock and a hard place.

At the same time, this "Knight" also implicitly threatened the "Gold General" on another fragile defensive line of Morimoto.

"Hiss..."