The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

Chapter 118: Management (5)

First Draft

As a writer, showing an unedited manuscript to someone was quite embarrassing.

It was somewhat akin to the embarrassment a woman might feel when she accidentally revealed her bare face to her boyfriend, after only ever showing him her fully made-up face.

Of course, I had never harbored the fantasy of a girlfriend who always appeared in full makeup, so I cpi;d only speculate about a woman’s reaction in such a situation.

“I’ll read it.”

“Do you really need to?”

“Just hand it over.”

“Ugh.”

What I was writing was a rough draft of martial arts fiction.

The embarrassment of showing a rough draft, especially one of martial arts fiction, to a housemate—and a romantic interest at that—was unimaginable. It felt like revealing a morning’s violent bodily reaction to a roommate.

Every moment, I was tormented by the decision of whether to hand it over, but what could I do? Tang Hwarin asked for it with a look that implied there wouldn’t be bloodshed only if she received the manuscript, so I had no choice but to give it to her.

Moreover, she promised to provide cover if anyone from the Tang Family came looking and also to take care of the martial arts verifications.

Tang Hwarin examined the manuscript seriously and then spoke.

“The toxin technique verification is a mess.”

“What part?”

“You can secretly poison someone using the toxin technique. But it’s not omnipotent. You can use it in an open field, but its effectiveness depends on the wind, the position, and the type of poison; you can’t just recklessly throw poison into the air and expect it to work.”

“Poison should be used unexpectedly. That’s why I wrote it that way.”

The protagonist was cornered. The opponent was smugly smiling. But then, the protagonist suddenly smiled triumphantly as the execution song BGM starts to play.

The protagonist’s trump card was revealed. The opponent screamed in agony. That’s the effect I was aiming for with the toxin technique.

“Enclosed space. Close proximity. If not, you at least need to describe that the surroundings were conducive to using the toxin technique. I can’t accept such clumsy use of it.”

Tang Hwarin criticized my depiction of the toxin technique with a look that said, ‘Do you even understand how to use toxins? I can’t accept this.’

If this were real, Hwarin would have left a long comment criticizing the verification.

“I’ll add to the description.”

“And there’s a problem with the assassination technique. Why is the protagonist targeting the ‘death point’ of the lecher?”

“Of course, you should aim for a vital point that kills when hit, right? You targeted the death point when fighting bandits.”

“That’s because they were amateurs. A master known as a lecher would naturally protect his vital points from flying assassination tools.”

“So, what should I do?”

“The numb point. If I were the protagonist, I’d aim for points like the knee cavity, the arm twist point, and the bending point that cause paralysis when hit. Then, when a gap appears, aim for the vital point. Even a lecher would have to prepare for escape or a fight to the death then.”

Is he talking about the combat strategy of using low kicks in mixed martial arts to cripple the opponent’s mobility and then going for the knockout?

“Then I’ll describe it starting from targeting the numb point instead of the death point.”

“Good. And.”

“There’s more?”

“Of course there is! What on earth is this ultimate technique of the Sichuan Tang Family you wrote about?!”

Tang Hwarin angrily pointed out my supposed trump card.

“Ah! Extreme Death Seven Nights! I made that up.”

“You made it up?”

“The protagonist needs to have some ultimate techniques to be cool, right? I was torn between Seagal Fist and Extreme Death Seven Nights. The latter seemed cooler.”

“That’s unheard of in martial arts.”

Tang Hwarin laughed incredulously at the ultimate technique of the Tang Family I had invented.

“Listen. The Ten Thousand Flower Rain is too powerful for the protagonist to wield. Instead of unleashing the Ten Thousand Flower Rain, the protagonist matches the flying blade’s speed. The moment he dodges the blade, snap! He breaks the enemy’s neck. How’s that?”

Every day, the Sichuan Tang Family employed poison. Its effects were potent. The Sichuan Tang Family disseminated assassination tools. It’s cowardly. The Ten Thousand Flower Rain was formidable. That couldn’t be right.

“If he possesses such mobility or lightfoot skill, merely spreading poison or assassination tools near the enemy should suffice for victory.”

This woman lacked a sense of romance.

“Then how about this? The protagonist attaches a line to the flying blade…”

“That won’t work! Why are you so fixated on the idea of attaching a line to that damn flying blade?”

It’s a martial art that anyone involved in the Joseon martial arts world would romantically aspire to master. That’s regrettable. I wondered how it could be leveraged.

I continued to refine the martial arts quality with Tang Hwarin through our feedback.

---

“And next is… Ah!”

I glanced at the manuscript I had handed to Tang Hwarin when I heard her surprised voice. Given it’s a martial arts and chivalry fiction, the next scene is predictable.

“Hwarin, I’ll take it from here.”

The atmosphere grew even more awkward with embarrassment. I casually smiled and extended my hand for the manuscript.

“I, I know some things too. I can offer advice…”

Was the smile counterproductive? Seeing my self-satisfied expression, Hwarin suddenly snapped.

“What advice can you possibly give? Just hand it over.”

“That’s the thing.”

Tang Hwarin fidgeted with her fingers, then lowered her gaze to her magnificent pectorals.

“Huh?”

“Doing it with, the chest. The skin gets rubbed, so it, it seems like it needs lubricant.”

What were you talking about?

“Hwarin, how could you?”

“Do I really need to explain?”

Hwarin blushed and glanced shyly at the hard, long wooden rod beside the bed.

Oh my God. Goodness gracious.

“Hwarin, I’ll handle this part alone from now on. Don’t experiment with that stuff.”

I feel like dying again. Why would you even think to experiment with that?

“I’m trying to help.”

“For the sake of my human dignity, no.”

It’s also not right for her proper sexual norms.

“Damn… I tried experimenting bravely.”

Tang Hwarin looked at me with a flushed face, clearly displeased by my declaration.

Why would you experiment bravely with that? Thanks for thinking about it. Really appreciate it. But no. Don’t. It would be too embarrassing if my novel made you do that.

I declared that I would edit this part alone in the future, despite Hwarin’s complaints.

---

Even though I just wanted to write and live, I had to work during the day to survive.

The plight of a part-time novelist didn’t change, even in this world.

“Hwarin, I’ll teach you how to make coffee.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best.”

The bookstore’s reputation was spreading, and customers were increasing day by day.

Unfortunately, the more people there were, the less Hwarin could stay on the first floor. She worked wearing a mask, but some customers found it unpleasant.

Initially, she quickly organized the books when the store was quiet, but as customers increased, it became harder to do so during lunchtime.

I took Hwarin’s disheartened hand in the corner and brought her to the second-floor counter. There’s less chance of bumping into customers if you make coffee facing the wall.

If it were me, I’d shout that it’s a chance to take a break with some excuse and stick to one corner. Why dig a hole again when you’ve been working hard day and night?

It’s good for me since the work is divided.

“Sir, an iced café latte, please.”

I was teaching Hwarin diligently when a customer placed an order.

“An order has come in. Hwarin, you remember what we talked about, right?”

“I got it! Just do the billing.”

“The temper. Got it.”

It’s good to see her spirited, finding her tasks.

“Customer, the iced café latte is 50 coppers; with ice added, it’s 55 coppers.”

“Hmm. Here you go. But is she your girlfriend? Or your wife?”

The young lady glanced at Tang Hwarin, who was making coffee with an intrigued look, and asked me.

“Huh? Oh! She’s just a friend.”

Hwarin, make the coffee. Don’t look this way.

“Heh, right. As if.”

The young lady met Tang Hwarin’s glare head-on and smirked while looking at Hwarin’s face, obscured by a mask.

She’s mocking Hwarin. And Hwarin is our landlady. I can’t just let this slide.

“Look here—ugh!”

As I was about to say something, Hwarin suddenly threw something blunt at me to stop me.

Why do that? We shouldn’t endure this. It’s our shop. I shot a look of protest, but Tang Hwarin just shook her head slightly as if to say it’s okay.

“Hehehe. Sir, maybe after closing, would you like to visit a fancy tavern nearby…”

“Hey. Take your coffee.”

Tang Hwarin approached quickly and placed the coffee in front of the young lady with a cold voice, as if throwing it.

“Wha?”

The young lady looked at Tang Hwarin incredulously, baffled by her reaction.

“Yeah, hey. There are other customers behind you. Stop making a scene and move.”

Tang Hwarin and the young lady faced off without backing down, their eyes locked in confrontation. Hwarin, I tried to stop you, so why are you fighting?

“Hmm. What’s this? Acting all high and mighty with that face. Know your place.”

The young lady looked at us alternately, then laughed at Tang Hwarin with an expression that said she figured it all out.

“What?”

Tang Hwarin glared at her with narrowed eyes filled with scorn.

“Hehehe. No. Sir, see me when there’s no more nuisance around.”

The young lady, not hiding her mockery, took her coffee and returned to her seat.

What kind of behavior was this? Our bookstore usually attracted quiet readers, but the service industry was still the service industry.

“Hwarin, you held back well.”

“Held back? I didn’t.”

Hwarin looked up at me with a smile that seemed to be scheming something.

I felt uneasy. I glanced at the young lady who had just returned to her seat. She had barely sat down when she suddenly clutched her stomach.

“Why is my stomach suddenly…”

The young lady endured excruciating pain and struggled to find the restroom.

That’s the wrong way. It’s in the opposite direction.

—Crackle!

Ah… That sound.

“I don’t know anything!”

That day, I learned about the Tang Family’s “Seven-Step Stool” poison, which caused a reaction in the lower abdomen after just seven steps, and the young lady earned the nickname “Poopie” for not being able to hold it till the restroom.

Daseogak lost a customer forever, but it wasn’t much of a loss.

---

“It’s all written.”

I looked at the completed “Tang Family’s Saga” with a moved expression.

The “Tang Family’s Saga” that I wrote and Tang Hwarin inspected. Maybe I should write ‘Inspected by the Sichuan Tang Family’ when it’s published.

“Yunho! I’ve left the materials in the printing room downstairs!”

I heard Tang Hwarin’s voice from the lower floor.

“Wait! I’ll bring the book.”

Finally, it’s just printing and publishing left to do.

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