• CHAPTER  50 – Game of Geniuses (9)

The long-awaited final day.

“Welcome to the two finalists.”

Under a single spotlight in an otherwise dark room, two figures stood face-to-face.

It was time for their final pre-match interview.

“Before we begin the main event, please share a few words about your mindset going into the finals.”

Lee Sang-moon spoke first.

“I ended Season 1 in the Top 3, which was disappointing. Now that I’ve made it to the finals in Season 2, I’m determined to win. I’ll show Do-jun what experience and maturity really look like.”

He ended with a subtle jab.

Then it was Do-jun’s turn.

“Throughout this competition, I’ve been wanting to get back at Sang-moon hyung. I’ll win by playing in the spirit of Game of Geniuses—and take the crown.”

At Do-jun’s indirect provocation, Lee Sang-moon’s eyebrow twitched slightly.

Producer Jeon Jong-hyun, watching from the sidelines, smirked.

“Perfect. This is great TV.”

It was just harmless trash talk, but the audience loved the tension.

Their backstories made it even better.

Lee Sang-moon had once knelt before genius Hong Joo-ho in Season 1. His philosophy: winning at all costs, no matter how ugly the path.

In contrast, Do-jun represented a new kind of genius—one who might succeed Hong Joo-ho by breaking the old alliance structure.

No matter who won, the narrative would carry a strong message for viewers.

With the atmosphere at a boil, the ultimate showdown began.

“The finals will consist of three games in a best-of-three format.

Game 1 is Block Stacking.

In Block Stacking, you’ll be given 2D views (left, right, front, back, top) of a 3D block structure along with the total number of blocks.

Your goal is to recreate the original shape using those clues. The first to do so correctly earns 1 point. An incorrect answer results in a 1-point deduction.

If you believe the shape is impossible to reconstruct, you may declare ‘Impossible.’ If correct, you gain 2 points. If wrong, you lose 1 point.

The first player to reach 10 points wins this game.”

Lee Sang-moon breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness—it’s not a memory-based game.”

Do-jun’s memory skills were practically superhuman. Had this been a memory challenge, the game might’ve been one-sided, drawing criticism for being unfair.

That’s why the production team had revised the originally planned deathmatch and introduced a new format.

Block Stacking tested spatial reasoning.

“The key here is who can call ‘Impossible’ at the right moment.”

Lee Sang-moon was known for his ability to grasp the big picture. A correct ‘Impossible’ call earned 2 points—potentially a game-changer.

“This is doable. Even Do-jun makes mistakes.”

Having previously beaten Do-jun in Gold Hunt, Lee Sang-moon came in brimming with confidence.

“Let’s begin Round 1.”

As the diagrams appeared, Sang-moon immediately began stacking blocks, focusing on one side to guide his build.

He scrambled to assemble the shape.

Meanwhile, Do-jun didn’t move. He just stared at the screen, analyzing the diagrams.

Sang-moon chuckled inwardly.

“What an arrogant fool. So overconfident.”

No matter how smart you were, the best approach was to build as you reasoned. That way, you stayed ahead and avoided overcomplication.

“Even if his memory is great, by the time he figures it out, I’ll be almost done.”

Do-jun finally moved.

But Sang-moon had already completed his stack and raised his hand.

“Answer!”

“Checking Sang-moon’s blocks… Correct. You gain 1 point.”

He clenched his fist in triumph.

“Great start.”

Still, he stayed sharp and focused as Round 2 began.

Same strategy. Focus on one plane, work from there.

Do-jun again stood still, silently observing.

Once again, Sang-moon finished first.

“Answer!”

“Correct. You gain 1 point.”

Another fist pump. He glanced at Do-jun.

“Guess this kind of game isn’t his strong suit after all.”

Round 3? Same story.

“Answer!”

“Correct. You gain 1 point.

Moving on to Round 4.”

Riding his momentum, Sang-moon dove into the next round, stacking blocks with confidence.

He was just about finished when—

“Answer.”

But this time, it wasn’t him. It was Do-jun.

“Impossible.”

“Correct. You gain 2 points.”

Sang-moon’s face stiffened.

The score, once 3–0, was now 3–2 in a flash.

He realized Do-jun’s strategy.

“He’s targeting the ‘Impossible’ plays… and trying to mess with my head.”

He wasn’t just playing to win—he was trying to throw Sang-moon off balance, baiting mistakes and letting him self-destruct.

“I’m not falling for it!”

Sang-moon sharpened his focus.

“Round 5 begins.”

New diagrams.

He jumped in immediately.

But—

“Answer. Impossible.”

Do-jun had responded in just five seconds.

Sang-moon stared, dumbfounded.

“What kind of mad gamble is that?”

Sure, there were always exceptions, but five seconds?

“Correct. You gain 2 points.”

Do-jun had now taken the lead.

Sang-moon’s mental state wavered.

“Round 6 begins.”

“Answer.”

“Correct. You gain 1 point.”

Sang-moon regained his footing.

He went on to win Rounds 7 and 8.

But then—

“Answer. Impossible.”
“Correct. You gain 2 points.”

“Answer. Impossible.”
“Correct. You gain 2 points.”

Do-jun nailed two consecutive “Impossible” calls.

The score shot to 8–6.

One more right call, and Do-jun would win.

Curious, Sang-moon couldn’t hold back.

“How do you know something’s impossible so quickly?”

Do-jun smiled politely.

“I just visualize it. I build a hologram of the 3D shape in my mind from all the planes. If anything feels off, it’s definitely impossible. If not, then I know there’s a high chance a valid shape exists.”

“Really?”

Sang-moon didn’t brush it off. He took every word seriously.

“Round 11 begins.”

New shapes appeared.

“Let me try it his way.”

Instead of stacking blocks, Sang-moon studied the diagrams first.

Then—

“I see it!”

He spotted a contradiction in the shapes.

He raised his hand.

“Answer. Impossible.”
“Correct. You gain 2 points.”

“Nice!!”

The score was now tied: 8–8.

“I can win this!”

His confidence surged.

He glanced at Do-jun and scoffed inwardly.

“You really gave away that secret? You’re definitely still a kid.”

He would never have shared such a strategic advantage.

He saw it as a mistake born of arrogance and inexperience.

“Round 12 begins.”

Sang-moon visualized the shape again.

This time, no contradictions stood out.

“Guess I have to stack.”

He got to work and completed it first.

“Correct. You gain 1 point. Match point.”

The score was 9–8.

One more correct answer, and victory would be his.

“Let’s finish this!”

He pushed himself into peak concentration.

“Round 13 begins.”

Same approach.

“Looks clean again.”

He began building furiously.

Do-jun, however, just sat there… smiling.

“Is he… smiling?”

Watching him calmly, with that unreadable smile, Do-jun didn’t even look like he was playing.

“All this bluffing won’t work on me!”

Sang-moon scoffed internally.

“He probably thought five ‘Impossible’ calls would win him the game. But that’s his mistake!”

He slammed down the final block and raised his hand.

“Answer!!”

Certain he had won.

“Victory!”

As long as he declared first, he believed the game was his.

But then—

“Incorrect. You lose 1 point.”

“Wha—what!?”

Sang-moon panicked and checked his model.

“It looks perfect from every angle…”

Do-jun raised his hand.

“Answer. Impossible.”

Sang-moon shook his head.

“No way. It was structurally fine!”

But—

“Correct. You gain 2 points and reach 10. This game goes to Kim Do-jun.”

“That’s ridiculous!!”

Sang-moon protested.

“Wasn’t the question flawed? Or maybe there was a mistake. My blocks were correct!”

But it wasn’t the judge who answered him.

It was Do-jun.

“Your shape matched the diagrams. But you forgot one thing.”

“What…?”

“The number of blocks.”

Sang-moon felt like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer.

Suddenly, the game rules echoed in his mind:

“Along with the diagrams, the number of blocks is also provided.”

“Even if the shape looks right, if the block count is wrong, then the shape is impossible.”

At last, Sang-moon understood his mistake.

“I was the arrogant one…”

Do-jun had said: If nothing looks wrong, then the shape might be possible.

Might—not definitely.

He had missed that nuance. And that missing detail? The block count.

While he beat himself up—

“That last one? I knew it was impossible the moment it started.”

Sang-moon froze.

“What…?”

That meant Do-jun could’ve ended the game immediately—but chose not to.

“If you knew, why didn’t you call it?”

“Because it was fun.”

“Fun? What was?”

Do-jun smiled calmly.

“Watching you struggle, thinking you still had a chance.”

Chills ran down Sang-moon’s spine.

He hadn’t won a single round, not really.

Do-jun had never even bothered to build the blocks.

“He was toying with me… from the very beginning.”

Only now did Sang-moon realize: He had been utterly humiliated by Kim Do-jun.