- [CHAPTER 46] The Game of Geniuses (5)
“We’ll now display the image.”
At the host’s announcement, an illustration appeared on the main hall screen and in each individual room.
Everyone had assumed the task would be simple — perhaps even trivial. But the image presented left them stunned.
“…What the hell is this?”
They had expected something slightly intricate at most.
What they got was far beyond that.
The image was a chaotic mess, crammed full of detail — like a nightmare version of Where’s Waldo?, only worse. It looked like several of those types of images had been mashed into one.
The moment Lee Sang-moon saw it, he knew.
“This is going to be all about the gemstones. There’s no way to predict the questions just from looking at this.”
Hong Joo-ho nodded in agreement.
“You’re right. But with fifteen questions, we don’t have enough gems to buy all of them. Let’s just purchase two — one easy and one hard — to get a feel for the question style.”
“Good plan. Since we’ve got numbers on our side, we’ll analyze the pattern and figure out what to memorize.”
The Sang-moon and Joo-ho alliance pooled their gemstones and entered the Dealer Room.
“We’ll take one easy question and one difficult one.”
Sang-moon handed over three gemstones.
“Here is your easy question:
In the image, what color shoes is the child playing with the balloon wearing?
Answer: Orange.”
Sang-moon found the question manageable and turned to the difficult one.
But the moment he read it, his face twisted in disbelief.
“Here is your difficult question:
A thief on roller skates steals a bag in the image. Which arm was the old lady carrying the bag on before it was taken?
Answer: Left arm.”
“…Are they out of their minds?”
The difficulty level was absolutely absurd.
On a simple image, such a question might be answerable. But with the sheer density and chaos of the artwork, missing a detail like that was inevitable.
Sang-moon hurried out to warn his team.
“We’re in trouble. The questions are way harder than we thought.”
He shared the samples, prompting a round of frustrated swearing from the team.
“This means Do-jun actually has the upper hand, doesn’t it? With all those gems, he could just buy the hard questions and crush us.”
“Exactly. He’s definitely going to buy questions. We should either stop Ha-neul from purchasing them or steal her questions.”
Their only option was to maximize their use of Park Ha-neul, their embedded spy.
While on a bathroom break, Ha-neul met with the alliance and received her new orders — which she relayed to Do-jun shortly after.
“So, what are you going to do?”
From Ha-neul’s perspective, this was actually great news.
Do-jun had more gems than anyone. His odds of winning just skyrocketed.
Naturally, she assumed he’d dominate the round by purchasing the most difficult questions.
But Do-jun’s answer caught her completely off guard.
“Buy the questions? Why would I do that?”
“…Huh?”
“You said you were going to win, didn’t you? Wasn’t that because you have so many gems?”
“No. Why would I spend them? Each one’s worth five million won.”
“What…?”
“If I use them, my prize money goes down.”
Ha-neul was momentarily speechless. Do-jun’s reasoning was unlike anyone else’s.
“Well, sure, but… don’t you need to win first?”
“I can win without buying questions. Don’t worry. And even if I don’t buy anything, the alliance will still find you useful. So you won’t lose anything.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Ha-neul understood — but couldn’t comprehend how he could be so confident.
Just looking at the image made her realize it was far beyond the scope of human memory. Victory clearly favored whoever had the most gems.
The moment she heard one of the hard questions from Sang-moon’s team, she became even more convinced of that.
How the hell is he planning to win this…?
25 minutes remained.
“Please let me concentrate. Stay quiet for now. You can look at the image if you want.”
With that, Ha-neul sat silently, simply staring at Do-jun.
He said nothing — just scribbled notes in his notebook for twenty minutes straight.
Then, five minutes before the game began, he handed her the notebook.
“Here you go, noona.”
“…What is this?”
“Predicted questions.”
“These are… predictions?”
The notebook was filled, page after page, with questions and answers.
Even at a glance, there were well over a hundred examples.
“I’m pretty sure most of the actual questions will come from here. You’ve got 30 seconds per question, so just memorize as many of these as you can.”
Do-jun’s confidence was infectious, and Ha-neul nodded, unsure if he was right — but willing to trust him.
As she read through his predictions, chills ran down her spine.
Who is this guy…?
The more she read, the more she was stunned.
Every question felt eerily plausible, as if handpicked from the real test.
Her instincts were screaming at her: This is the real deal.
Ha-neul spent the final five minutes in intense focus.
“The game will begin shortly. All participants, please return to your seats.”
Everyone took their places. Ha-neul sat down, then suddenly turned to Do-jun.
“Wait… don’t you need this?”
She waved the notebook he’d given her.
“Nope. You use it.”
“But…”
“We will now begin the game. From this point on, no talking is allowed. You have 30 seconds to answer each question.”
[Question 1: What color shoes is the child playing with the balloon wearing?]
Sang-moon’s team had seen this one — they answered easily.
Do-jun and Ha-neul also wrote down the correct answer without hesitation.
“All correct. Moving on.”
[Question 2: What is the name of the chairman of Genius Group?]
Ha-neul didn’t hesitate — it was one of Do-jun’s predictions.
Could this actually work…?
Again, everyone got it right.
Questions 1 through 8 were the “easy” ones, as promised. Everyone was still tied.
Then came the hard questions — numbers 9 through 15.
[Question 9: Which arm was the old lady carrying the stolen bag on?]
Sang-moon’s team had purchased this one, so they wrote it confidently.
They glanced at Do-jun and Ha-neul — both were writing answers without hesitation.
“All correct. Moving on.”
Sang-moon’s team exchanged confused looks.
Wait, they didn’t buy any questions…
They had confirmed Do-jun never entered the Dealer Room.
Even with strong memories, they were all dealing with highly intelligent contestants. Without question purchases, the advantage should’ve been theirs.
[Question 10: How many round and square food containers were spilled from the drawer?]
Sang-moon’s team panicked.
Are they seriously asking for both round and square numbers separately?
They had expected a question about spilled containers — not this level of detail.
No one on the team answered, fearing a wrong guess would cost them points.
But Do-jun and Ha-neul both wrote confidently.
“Park Ha-neul and Kim Do-jun are correct. +1 point. Others maintain current score.”
[Question 11: A clown dropped several balloons. How many in total, and how many were purple and orange?]
This time, everyone answered correctly — colors were easier to spot than shapes.
The gap didn’t widen, at least.
[Question 12: How many children are shown in the image? (Babies not included)]
Sang-moon’s team passed. They hadn’t anticipated this type of question.
A total blind spot.
It wasn’t difficult — just impossible to solve without knowing the angle of attack.
Even Ha-neul passed.
This one wasn’t on the list…
She figured Do-jun would pass too — until she saw him calmly writing.
“…What?”
They were already ahead. There was no reason for him to take the risk.
And yet:
“Kim Do-jun is correct. +1 point.”
Do-jun was pulling ahead.
Scores:
Sang-moon’s team — 10 points
Ha-neul — 11 points
Do-jun — 13 points
He could win even if he didn’t answer anything else.
[Question 14: How many women are in the image?]
Sang-moon’s team stayed silent.
Counting the total people was hard enough. Identifying the women specifically? Unrealistic.
But Ha-neul felt goosebumps.
It’s in there.
One of the predicted questions.
She looked at Do-jun with something close to awe.
He’s the real deal.
As a KAIST graduate, she’d met countless prodigies — and a few true geniuses.
Do-jun wasn’t just a genius. He was on another level entirely.
He’s in a league of his own.
They both wrote their answers.
“Park Ha-neul and Kim Do-jun are correct.”
Even Hong Joo-ho was speechless.
“No way… They’re getting this stuff right without buying any questions?”
Everyone felt the same. When they looked at Do-jun, it was like staring at a monster.
“+1 point. Final question coming up.”
[Question 15: How many strands of hair does Chairman Choi Tae-hyung have in the image?]
The room burst into laughter and curses.
“The producers are nuts. How is this a valid question?”
“Five gemstones for getting everything right? This is a scam.”
Even Do-jun had his eyes closed, seemingly stumped.
“10 seconds remaining… 10, 9, 8, 7…”
Suddenly, Do-jun’s eyes snapped open. He scribbled a number.
[23 strands]
Even the dealers’ eyes widened in disbelief.
“Kim Do-jun… correct. +1 point.”
Park Hye-ran couldn’t hold her tongue.
“There’s no way he got all that right without buying questions. Did someone leak the answers?”
It was a fair suspicion. What Do-jun had done went beyond photographic memory.
Even Sang-moon chimed in.
“This is going to raise some eyebrows.”
Everyone stared at Do-jun. Even the producers were confused.
Director Jeon Jong-hyun stepped in.
“Mr. Kim Do-jun. We’re struggling to understand this. The final question was intentionally made to be unsolvable without buying hints. We need an explanation.”
Do-jun smiled.
“Explanation?”
He smirked.
“Photographic memory.”
“…What?”
Director Jeon blinked in confusion.
But Park Ha-neul, chills running down her spine, muttered softly:
“Photographic memory… also known as eidetic memory. The ability to recall every detail of something seen, like a perfect mental photograph.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped.
Do-jun spoke plainly:
“That’s right. I don’t forget what I’ve seen.”
It was a cheat code — a literal hack for any brain-based competition.
This was the moment a true anomaly made his entrance into the ecosystem:
The arrival of Kim Do-jun — the disruptor.
