Chapter 993

This was his domain of confidence, one he had used to tear through many a thorny defensive line before.

Natsume Chikage, as always, responded in seconds.

But the piece that fell was not the passive block or retreat Honda had anticipated.

A subtle exchange of "Pawns," like a wedge embedded with precision before the opponent's pincer movement could close, instantly disrupted the rhythmic coordination between the "Silver" and the "Knight."

Immediately following, with almost no pause, came a seemingly plain and unremarkable advance of the "Gold General."

These two moves, flowing as smoothly as drifting clouds and running water, not only dissolved Honda's gathering offensive into nothingness but also used his own force against him, subtly isolating the "Knight" that had pushed furthest into the "pincer," leaving it in the awkward predicament of being unable to advance or retreat.

Under the searing lights of the arena, a layer of fine, distinct beads of sweat seeped from Honda Takashi's temple.

He stared fixedly at that "Knight," which had suddenly become cumbersome and dangerous, his brain racing through simulations at an unprecedented speed.

Force a breakthrough? With weak follow-up support, it would be tantamount to throwing away a piece.

Turn and retreat? That would be an admission that this meticulously planned offensive had failed completely, handing over the precious initiative.

An invisible yet tangible pressure was radiating from the boy opposite him, who remained as calm as an ancient well, chillingly permeating the board and entangling every one of his pieces and every breath he took.

The air seemed to have become viscous and heavy.

He deliberated for a full five minutes, his fingers unconsciously gripping his knees, his expression shifting from focus to solemnity, even revealing a hint of imperceptible agitation.

In the end, he chose the most secure, yet most conservative, method of connection, barely rescuing the "Knight," but at the cost of his entire formation becoming stagnant, losing its former agility and edge.

And almost at the exact moment his fingertip pressed the chess clock, emitting a soft "click"—

"Tap."

Natsume Chikage's piece had already fallen, the sound crisp, the rhythm constant.

It was not to pursue the "Knight" that had just escaped and was still reeling from shock, but to quietly adjust a "Rook" that had been lying in wait at the rear to a throat-position capable of overlooking most of the board, possessing immense deterrent power.

At the same time, the "Bishop" on the other flank also lifted slightly, locking onto a new target.

Natsume Chikage's entire formation suddenly opened up because of this move, shifting quietly from a steady defensive posture to one of subtle yet firm offense.

Like a giant net already woven and waiting patiently, it began to close in and infiltrate Honda Takashi's territory, gently but unstoppably.

Honda Takashi's expression changed completely.

The previous solemnity was covered by a layer of gradually spreading pallor; his lips were pressed into a straight line, and his jawline became rigid.

The atmosphere at the commentary desk was instantly ignited.

Inoue Miyabi's voice rose sharply, filled with amazement:

"Exquisite! Natsume's mid-game transition is just brilliant! Not only did he neutralize Honda's signature offensive, but he also took the opportunity to complete a formation shift, turning the tables! Honda's formation now looks somewhat cumbersome, and his space has been significantly compressed!"

Nanjo Maimai's voice could not hide her excitement either:

"Honda's long deliberation didn't bring the expected improvement in the situation; instead, he was caught in the rhythm of the transition by Natsume! The initiative now seems to have... shifted into Natsume's hands? This is truly an unfolding that was hard to predict before the match!"

A wave of irrepressible uproar erupted among the spectators.

Horikawa Kaori covered her mouth tightly, a glow of unbelievable surprise bursting in her eyes, and she whispered in exclamation:

"The advantage... Natsume-kun, has he taken the advantage?!"

Fukuda Tsukasa leaned forward, almost pressing against the front-row seat, staring at the broadcast screen, and muttered:

"What the hell... Honda's 'Silver-Knight Assault' was broken just like that? And he even got counter-pushed? This kid..."

Furukawa Saio excitedly shook Furukawa Masahiro's arm:

"Grandpa, look! This is the path Natsume big brother taught Saio!"

"If he keeps going, he'll definitely win!"

Furukawa Masahiro stroked his beard and smiled, his eyes shining with the light of someone who understood everything:

"Don't be impatient, Saio. A chess game is like a long-distance run; it's too early to make a judgment now. However... Natsume-kun is indeed playing with great method."

Fukuda Yasuhiro's face flushed red, and he stubbornly insisted:

"It... it's just a momentary miscalculation by Honda! He'll adjust, and he'll be able to pull it back soon!"

The Private Tsukikage Shogi Club activity room was already boiling.

"Advantage! It's really an advantage! Natsume-kun is awesome!"

Araki Jieai sprang up from her seat, waving her fists excitedly.

Yasui Ryouto also slapped his thigh hard:

"Well done! That bastard Honda's specialty move has been seen through! This mid-game sense is too sharp!"

Teacher Nomura Tomohiro was still relatively calm, but his clenched fists and the shining eyes behind his lenses betrayed the turmoil in his heart:

"Stay calm, Natsume! An advantage needs to be converted into a winning position! Honda Takashi will never admit defeat easily!"

The Natsume main residence, the atmosphere was subtle.

The smile on Natsume Qi Society's face had long since vanished, replaced by irritation and confusion:

"What is this Honda doing? How is he at a disadvantage?"

"Does he even know how to play?"

Natsume Yuzhen was still holding his teacup, but the force with which his fingertips pressed against the wall of the cup revealed his lack of composure; he stared at the screen and said slowly:

"Uncle Qi Society, the chess game is unpredictable. Cousin Chikage might have seized an opportunity in a certain moment. But Honda-kun has a deep foundation and is best at creating chaos when at a disadvantage. To declare victory now, I'm afraid... it's still too early."

Natsume Chunhui's posture remained unchanged, still supporting her chin with one hand, only her gaze was focused more deeply on Natsume Chikage's almost expressionless side profile, lost in thought.

On the board, the "Rook" Natsume Chikage had adjusted into place and the "Bishop" waiting for an opportunity were forming a potential fire net that was gradually tightening.

Honda Takashi felt as if he had fallen into an invisible quagmire.

No matter which direction he tried to mobilize his pieces to find a breakthrough or organize a counterattack, Natsume Chikage could always land his pieces in the most uncomfortable positions for him, a few beats faster, not only neutralizing his intentions but often further squeezing his space and plundering tiny amounts of territory.

His position was being eroded inch by inch, his piece efficiency was continuously decreasing, and the "Yagura" castle that had seemed solid now appeared riddled with holes and teetering under the opponent's precise infiltration.

And what made his heart go cold and almost feel suffocating was the decisiveness with which the opponent placed his pieces—without any hesitation, almost instinctual.

The time those calm eyes swept over the board was so short it was almost negligible, and then came the picking up and placing of the piece, all in one go.

It was as if the diagrams for the next dozen or more moves, or even further, had already been evolved within that deep calm, and he was merely executing the predetermined optimal solution.

"How is it possible... how can he think so fast and so deeply?! Doesn't he need to calculate branches and risks?!"

Honda Takashi was screaming frantically inside, and a vine named "fear" began to entangle his confidence.

The chess clock ticked, each jump like a heavy hammer striking his increasingly fragile nerves.

Eight minutes.

Ten minutes.

He stared at the board, the sharpness in his eyes long since replaced by bewilderment and a hint of desperately concealed panic.

Sweat slid lightly from his temples and the sides of his nose.

Every difficult move that cost him all his effort and a long time was met with Natsume Chikage's casual, yet seemingly already-waiting, fatal second-response.

What was worse, a thought uncontrollably crept into his mind: if he lost, all the prize money he had won previously would go down the drain!

That was nearly 310,000 yen! Not a small sum!

No—the game isn't over yet, why would I think of defeat first?

I am Honda Takashi, a genius professional shogi player in whom high hopes are placed!

How could I lose to some guy who popped out of nowhere!

A brief moment of self-encouragement allowed him to barely suppress the panic, the cold sweat on his forehead seemed to subside a little, and he took a deep breath, trying to refocus his scattered attention.

However, reality was cruel.

Just the next moment after he had mustered some fighting spirit—

"Tap."

Another soft sound.

One of Natsume Chikage's "Pawns" that had penetrated deep behind enemy lines quietly promoted in a corner no one noticed, transforming into a fatal "Gold General," forming the final, unbreakable encirclement with the "Bishop" that had already infiltrated the heart of the territory.

The defensive point on the flank of Honda Takashi's King, which seemed to be the last barrier, emitted a clearly audible moan of structural collapse.

The defensive line, at this moment, declared total collapse.

His fighting spirit, which had just barely managed to coalesce, deflated instantly like a balloon pricked by a needle, his expression becoming dazed again, even paler than before.

Why... why, with him playing so fast, could he still precisely capture every one of my intentions?

Why do all my moves seem transparent in front of him?

This is simply... against common sense!

The atmosphere at the commentary desk had reached its peak.

Inoue Miyabi's voice changed slightly due to extreme shock and excitement: