Golden Spoon Investor

As the scooter came to a stop in front of Moby Dick, where the final match was to be held, Seok-won got off and removed his helmet.

"Why am I so nervous?" Roy muttered, looking at the crowded pub through the large glass windows. Seok-won let out a dry laugh, finding it amusing.

"I'm the one who's competing, so why are you the one shaking?"

"Come on, don't be like that. We've come this far together, from the preliminaries to the finals. Let's be honest, you wouldn't have even joined the tournament if it wasn't for me."

"So what?"

Even as Roy threw him a sideways glance, Seok-won replied with an unperturbed expression.

"You're the one who signed me up without asking. I wasn't even interested in the tournament."

Hitting Roy with cold facts, Seok-won left him pouting.

Honestly, it was true that he'd been dragged into this, so Roy had no real comeback.

"Still, it's the finals. It's weird that you're so calm."

"You've never heard the saying, 'Practice like it's the real thing, compete like it's practice'? Only amateurs fail to bring out their full potential because they can't control their mindset."

"Ugh, you're the worst!"

Roy made a mock gagging motion, scrunching up his face in exaggerated disgust.

As they bickered back and forth, Roy seemed to relax, the tension easing from his shoulders. Seok-won noticed this and gestured toward the pub with a nod of his head.

"Shall we go in, then?"

"Yeah, let's do this," Roy said, clenching his fists with determination. "Let's go in there and wipe the floor with them."

Seeing Roy's enthusiasm, Seok-won smiled faintly and replied, "Okay. Just leave it to me."

When they opened the door and stepped inside, the pub was packed with people, even though it was only late afternoon. The tables had been cleared away for the match, and in the middle of the room were two arcade machines facing each other, both set up for Street Fighter II.

As Seok-won and Roy entered, the crowd, many of whom were holding beers, immediately recognized him. Cheers erupted from various corners of the pub.

"Oh! He's here!"

"I bet ten dollars on you, so you better win!"

"Crush those MIT guys!"

"Don't drag it out—just finish them off in one go!"

Some whistled through their fingers, while others waved homemade banners. Harvard students parted to let him through, patting his shoulders and giving him hearty encouragement. On the other hand, from the opposite side of the room, boos and jeers erupted.

"We thought you'd chickened out, but you actually showed up!"

"Hey, Harvard nerds, don't cry when you lose!"

It was clear the taunters were MIT students, who were giving thumbs-down gestures and shouting, raising the tension in the room even further.

Noticing the unusually high energy, Seok-won whispered to Roy, "Hey, are they actually betting on this?"

"Of course! Did you not know?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I did."

"Some people are placing personal bets, but there's also official betting through the tournament organizers."

No wonder some people's eyes were practically spinning!

"Is this really okay? Wasn't this supposed to be a friendly match for student exchange between MIT and Harvard?"

"It's just small bets, so what's the big deal?" Roy shrugged.

"And how do you think they paid for renting the arcade machines and this place?"

"So they're covering the costs with betting fees?"

"Exactly," Roy said, grinning slyly. "I've been betting on you since the preliminaries, and I've made a pretty penny."

"You idiot… Did you bet again this time?"

"Of course! I put 500 dollars on the line, so you have to win, got it?"

Seok-won stared at Roy in disbelief before shaking his head.

"Hah… Maybe I should just forfeit."

"Hey! You can't do that!"

Roy grabbed his sleeve in panic, only to have Seok-won reply with a deadpan tone, "Just kidding."

There was no way he'd forfeit, especially now that he'd made it to the finals.

'Not to mention, it's gotten to the point where even the professor knows about it.' If he just walked away now, he'd be ostracized on campus.

"Phew, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Roy scolded, glaring at him.

"Coward."

"I'm not scared! I'm just saying, my money's on the line!"

Smirking, Seok-won walked forward, where O'Brien, the referee and organizer for the day, greeted them warmly.

"Glad you made it."

Seok-won nodded back politely before glancing to his left. Seated in front of the left arcade machine was a guy with black hair, wearing round glasses and a checkered shirt—a stereotypical engineering student look.

As their eyes met, the guy stood up and approached him.

"That's Kenneth Rogoff, your opponent today. You read the info I gave you, right? Don't be fooled by his appearance—he's no pushover," Roy whispered urgently, sticking close to Seok-won.

Rogoff adjusted his glasses with one hand and extended the other in greeting.

"You must be Seok-won Park? I'm Rogoff. Nice to meet you."

"My name's Seok-won, and Park is my family name. In Korea, we put the family name first, so it's Park Seok-won. You can call me that."

Seok-won shook his hand as he explained, and Rogoff quickly nodded in understanding.

"Oh, got it. Sorry about that."

"It's fine. You didn't know."

Seok-won looked into Rogoff's brown eyes through his thick lenses.

"So, Rogoff, let's have a good match."

"Sure."

As Rogoff smiled slightly, Seok-won mused to himself, 'At least this guy doesn't seem like that rude rugby player.'

Just then, O'Brien addressed them, pulling Seok-won out of his thoughts.

"As you know, the finals are best of three."

O'Brien continued to explain the rules as both players nodded in understanding.

"And no cheap tricks. If you get two warnings, you forfeit the match. Remember that."

Given the popularity of the game, there were plenty of cheap tactics that players could exploit. One common trick was repeatedly using fireballs to force the opponent to jump forward, only to be hit by a Shoryuken or similar anti-air move.

Someone had even tried that against Seok-won in the preliminaries, but it hadn't worked at all.

'I've spent so much money in arcades that I made sure to teach them a lesson,' he thought, smirking.

O'Brien checked his wristwatch, then looked at both players.

"It's time to start. Are you both ready?"

"Yeah."

Following Seok-won reply, Rogoff also nodded.

"Then take your positions and get ready."

Exchanging a final glance with Rogoff, Seok-won turned and sat down at the arcade machine assigned to him.

He stretched his hands lightly and selected Ryu, as he had throughout the tournament.

On the other hand, Rogoff chose a less conventional character, the sumo wrestler E. Honda.

As the spectators crowded around, eagerly anticipating the match, the final showdown began.

With the tiles featuring Mount Fuji in the background, the bathhouse stage loaded, and the crowd burst into cheers.

"Go for it!"

"Finish him in one go!"

[Round 1]

[Fight!]

As the match began, Rogoff immediately closed the distance, prompting Seok-won to throw a Hadouken.

[Hadouken!]

But Rogoff jumped forward, dodging the projectile, and brought his hand down in a powerful chop.

Ryu, caught by the attack, was knocked to the ground. Wasting no time, Rogoff's Honda followed up with his Hundred Hand Slap, overwhelming Seok-won Ryu with a flurry of palm strikes.

[Huk, huk! Huk, huk!]

Despite taking damage, Seok-won fought back. Using a low kick to create distance, he attempted to launch into the Tatsumaki Senpukyaku.

But Rogoff anticipated the move and quickly countered, grabbing Ryu mid-air and slamming him to the ground.

Pinning Seok-won's Ryu into the corner, Rogoff's Honda unleashed another Hundred Hand Slap, giving Ryu no chance to escape.

"Oh!"

"This doesn't look good."

The crowd gasped as Seok-won's health bar quickly depleted, leaving his character sprawled on the ground.

"Yeah!"

MIT students, who had been holding their breath, erupted in cheers, raising their hands triumphantly. Meanwhile, the Harvard students behind Seok-won murmured anxiously, disappointment written all over their faces.

"That guy's no joke."

"Yeah."

"Guess the finals really are different."

Having seen Seok-won breeze through previous matches, the loss was shocking.

Even Roy, who had been anxiously watching from behind, approached with a worried expression.

"Hey, you okay?"

But despite the concern, Seok-won smiled as if he was enjoying himself.

"No need to make a fuss. He's a tough opponent, but the outcome won't change."

Though his confident tone was somewhat reassuring, it was still concerning since this was Seok-won's first loss in the entire tournament.

"One more loss and it's over, you know? Don't mess this up!"

"Don't worry."

"Alright, I trust you."

With that, Roy squeezed Seok-won's shoulder for encouragement and stepped back. Soon after, the next round began.

[Round 2]

"Don't drag it out—finish him off!"

"Go, go!"

Buoyed by Rogoff's victory in the first round, the MIT students roared with excitement.

Not to be outdone, the Harvard students retaliated with cheers and jeers, raising the tension even higher.

"If he wins straight, we'll just say we went easy on him! Don't you know that?"

"Now we'll show you our true strength! Watch closely!"

Despite the raucous atmosphere, Seok-won tuned out all the noise.

Fully focused, he began the round by throwing a Hadouken as soon as Rogoff's Honda leaped forward for a kick. Seok-won didn't miss a beat, executing a Shoryuken.

[Shoryuken!]

Knocked back by the uppercut, Honda struggled to get back on his feet, only for Seok-won to hit him with another Hadouken.

[Hadouken!]

Though Honda blocked the projectile with his crossed arms, Seok-won quickly closed the distance and landed another Shoryuken.

As Honda staggered back, Seok-won followed up with a low kick to keep him at bay. Rogoff tried to escape the corner by jumping over Ryu, but Seok-won was ready.

Seeing Honda leap again, Seok-won expertly timed his Tatsumaki Senpukyaku.

With Honda in mid-air and no way to dodge, he took the full brunt of the spinning kick, crashing to the ground.

Honda's health bar plummeted to just a third of its full capacity.

"No, no!"

Realizing he was one hit away from losing the round, Rogoff desperately tried to recover.

But before he could react, Seok-won's Ryu landed a final Hadouken, sending Honda crashing to the floor.

[Harvard wins Round 2!]

"Yeah!!"

As O'Brien announced the victory, the Harvard crowd erupted in cheers.

"That's right!"

"I knew it! He never lets us down!"

"Now finish him off in the next round!"

On the other side, the MIT students, who had been cheering moments ago, now looked on with concern as they urged Rogoff on.

"It's just 1-1 now. We're back to square one."

"Yeah! Just win the next round!"

As the cacophony of cheers and shouts filled the room, Seok-won lifted his head and accidentally made eye contact with Rogoff.

Seok-won smiled first, and after a moment's hesitation, Rogoff returned the gesture, looking like he was enjoying himself despite the tension.

"Now, it's time for the final match!"

As O'Brien's booming voice echoed through the pub, the final round began.

The atmosphere was so tense that even the sound of swallowing could be heard. Both players, along with the crowd, were fully engrossed in the match.

Having fought two intense rounds already, they were well aware that neither of them would be easy to beat. They kept their distance at first, cautiously gauging each other's movements.

But that didn't last long.

Seok-won threw a Hadouken, and Rogoff, seemingly anticipating it, jumped forward.

Seok-won quickly tried to counter with a Shoryuken, but this time, Rogoff was faster.

With a powerful palm strike, Honda knocked Ryu to the ground.

Not missing a beat, Rogoff's Honda followed up with the Hundred Hand Slap, relentlessly pressing his advantage.

[Huk, huk! Huk, huk!]

Seok-won blocked the flurry of attacks, waiting for the right moment. As soon as Honda's attack ended, Seok-won countered with a low kick, knocking Honda off balance.

As Honda struggled to rise, Ryu hit him with a Shoryuken, dealing more damage.

The match was a fierce back-and-forth, with neither side giving an inch, keeping the spectators on the edge of their seats.

"Keep going!"

"Ah, that was close!"

"He should have dodged that!"

With both players' health bars nearly identical, it was impossible to predict the winner.

Unlike the earlier rounds, Seok-won was now fully focused, his hands moving with lightning speed across the joystick and buttons.

Finally, Seok-won managed to corner Honda and launched into another Tatsumaki Senpukyaku, aiming to deliver the finishing blow.

[Atsatatsugen!]

But Rogoff had anticipated the move, making Honda duck under Ryu's spinning kick. He then closed the distance and grabbed Ryu, executing a devastating Sumo Throw.

Bam, bam, bam!

Ryu's health bar took a hit as he tried to jump back to create some distance, but Rogoff wasn't about to let him go that easily. Honda moved forward, launching another Hundred Hand Slap.

The situation was dire—one more hit and Ryu would be down. But Seok-won remained calm, crouching and blocking the attack, minimizing the damage.

Even so, Ryu's health bar had dwindled to less than a third, putting Seok-won in a tough spot.

Yet instead of hesitating, Seok-won made a bold move.

As soon as Honda's attack ended, Seok-won launched Ryu into the air with a perfectly timed Tatsumaki Senpukyaku.

"Wow!"

"That's all-out offense instead of defense? That's gutsy!"

"Yeah, that's the way!"

As the crowd marveled at Seok-won's audacity, Honda was caught off guard, taking the full impact of the kick.

With Honda's health bar nearly empty, Seok-won seized the opportunity, hitting him with one final Shoryuken.

[Shoryuken!]

With that, Honda's health bar drained completely, and the sumo wrestler's body slowly lifted into the air before crashing back down.

Seok-won had secured a flawless victory.

"Yeah!!"

The pub erupted in cheers as the spectators celebrated the thrilling conclusion to the match.

Roy, who had been watching anxiously from the sidelines, rushed over to Seok-won, his arms raised in triumph.

"You did it! You're the champion!"

Roy, overjoyed as if he'd won the match himself, turned to the crowd and began chanting Seok-won's name.

Despite not taking the tournament too seriously at first, Seok-won couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and pride as the crowd's cheers washed over him.

Rising from his seat, Seok-won walked over to Rogoff and extended his hand.

"That was fun."

"Hah… I didn't think I'd lose."

Though a bit downcast, Rogoff smiled as he shook Seok-won's hand.

The crowd clapped, appreciating the sportsmanship between the two competitors.

Regardless of whether they were from MIT or Harvard, everyone acknowledged the great match they'd just witnessed.

Amidst the applause, O'Brien stepped forward, holding a microphone, and announced loudly:

"The winner of this Street Fighter tournament is Harvard!"

"Yeah!!"

"Harvard! Harvard!"

As O'Brien hung the gold medal around Seok-won's neck, the pub exploded with cheers and applause, shaking the very roof.

As Seok-won fingered the medal around his neck, he sidled up to Roy and whispered.

"Hey, this isn't real gold, right?"

"Of course not."

"Ugh…"

Seok-won clicked his tongue in disappointment, then suddenly remembered something.

"Didn't you say you bet on me?"

"Hehe, that's right. Thanks to you, I made a nice profit."

Roy grinned ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically.

"Okay, let's split it 50-50."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"It's money you made thanks to me. You signed me up for the tournament without asking, so I deserve a cut for the trouble."

Roy frowned at Seok-won's brazen demand, grumbling, "Man, rich guys are the worst."

"So, are you gonna give it to me or not? You are, right?"

"Fine! We'll split it evenly, 50-50. Happy now?"

As Roy grumbled, Seok-won ignored him, soaking in the congratulatory words from all around.

Among those who approached to offer their congratulations were familiar faces, but there were also complete strangers, even MIT students, who shook his hand or patted him on the back, offering their well-wishes.

"Congrats on winning. That was a great match."

About to reflexively say thanks, Seok-won suddenly froze, his eyes widening at the sight of the person in front of him.

Standing there, grinning with a white smile, was a slim black man with short hair, wearing a white shirt under a gray sweater.

He extended his hand for a handshake, and though Seok-won took it reflexively, he couldn't hide his shock.

'What is he doing here?'

It was someone Seok-won had never expected to see at the tournament.