The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 140: Uninvited Guest - 7

Even if Storm of the Tang Clan kept selling out every day... even if Hwa-rin’s skin kept getting better by the day... the horrifying truth that I had to go to work every morning never changed.

“Hey! Yun-ho! Get up!”

I yawned and stretched in bed at Hwa-rin’s morning call. Lately, I’d been writing Volume 3 of Storm of the Tang Clan, and I hadn’t been sleeping nearly enough.

I'd be working the next day, but my writing wasn’t progressing, so I kept cutting into my sleep to squeeze out more pages, then caught a few winks before scrambling off to work again.

Even after reincarnating into another world and becoming a full-time author... nothing much had changed from reality. Well, I guess at least my commute time was under a minute.

Even here, I was far from the life of those full-time writers who sleep in, sip coffee over brunch, and type leisurely at noon.

“Go wash up already.”

Hwa-rin didn’t seem too happy to see me still lazing in bed. She frowned slightly and urged me on. I stared at her with half-lidded eyes, still not fully awake.

“Hwa-rin... your skin looks even better than yesterday.”

“Really?”

At just one comment from me, her frown instantly vanished.

I meant it. They say if you don’t see a scholar for three days, you must look at them anew—but with Hwa-rin, the difference between before bed and after waking was enough to make you do a double take.

“You’re becoming more beautiful by the day—this oppa is overwhelmed with emotion.”

I made a show of my awe with exaggerated gestures as I said it to her.

“What kind of nonsense are you spouting first thing in the morning?”

C’mon, play along with the scene a little, don’t go full serious on me.

“I’m saying you really are getting better.”

“R-really? Then check for me!”

Brightening at my words, Hwa-rin perched on her bed and tilted her chin up.

Again? Ever since her skin started improving, she’d developed this weird new habit—asking me to confirm it with my hands.

She said it felt different when someone else touched the healed part—that she could really tell the improvement that way.

“If you keep asking for this, my hands are going to get poison fatigue. I checked it just ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) yesterday.”

“What, you think I’m the kind of person who’d get poisoned by a little skin contact?”

Fair. She could probably swallow lethal poison and digest it. Hwa-rin wasn’t just immune—she was half Poisoned One herself. Still, wouldn’t a mirror do just fine?

What is this? Like getting a +20 legendary weapon and needing the entire server to witness it through world chat?

“...Fine. I’ll do it.”

Grumbling a little, I got up from bed and approached her.

“What, do you not wanna?”

“N-not at all.”

“Pfft. What even~”

I started gently touching her lower face. That once blotchy, discolored skin—now slowly becoming something of the past.

Hwa-rin’s previously hidden beauty was finally surfacing.

Now, half her lower face had turned to smooth, unblemished skin. Even the worst areas had faded to the level of old acne scars.

It was like watching a girl who’d suffered from hormonal acne in high school go through a total glow-up after college.

The problem was... she was turning into a full-blown “mean girl” visual—the kind that triggers my trauma. At this rate, once her face is fully healed, she’s gonna be throwing out lines like, “What are you staring at, loser?” and I’ll instinctively look away.

“...You really are getting prettier.”

Maybe I wasn’t fully awake. I blurted it out without filtering it through my brain.

“Wh-what-what?! Ack!”

“All right. That’s enough.”

I turned away quickly to manage the situation, pressing her T-zone with my thumbs like I was giving her a focused massage.

“Why?! Why’d you stop?!”

Hwa-rin looked at me like I’d just walked out in the middle of a concert.

“The sun’s already high. We’ve gotta open the store soon.”

What? You upset or something? I think I did plenty.

“Um... Yun-ho.”

Just as I was about to wash up, Hwa-rin called me with a slightly hesitant tone.

“What?”

“My... upper body’s gotten better too.”

“Well, that’s great news.”

“So, uh...”

She avoided my gaze, then shyly loosened her collar. What are you doing, Hwa-rin? Showing off a +20 weapon is fine, but don’t go giving away your account password.

“Do... do you want to check here too?”

She pulled her collar aside slightly and turned toward me.

“...What?”

Her cryptic statement echoed in my brain. Check what? And how, exactly?

“I-it’s not like that. I mean, I just thought maybe the way this area healed might feel different, so I... um... uh...”

Her words short-circuited midway, but she still hadn’t let go of the fabric she’d pulled open.

What is this? A trap designed by Zhuge Liang? But she’s not even from the Jegal Family—she’s Tang Clan. I took a step forward.

“Eep!”

As my shadow fell over her exposed upper body, Hwa-rin let out a sharp squeak and turned her head away. Girl, why’d you start something you can’t finish?

Maybe her skin’s been leveling up every day, and she’s just feeling giddy. That, or her sense of personal space is just... lacking. Honestly, she’d spent most of her life with no friends—probably longer than the guy named Kang Mo, who’s been single since birth.

“...I’m touching it now.”

Gulp. I heard someone swallow somewhere. Hwa-rin, this is when you say no. If I leave her alone like this, she might really go off the rails.

I should teach her a lesson.

Like a beanbag curveball thrown by a top-tier pitcher in the palace’s royal baseball league, I sharply redirected my hand from her collar and gave her stomach a firm pinch.

“Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re touching?!”

She jumped like a kid startled by hot water and bolted upright from the bed.

“You’re the one who said to check your upper body.”

“I didn’t say there! Geez!”

“Then where did you mean?”

Kang Yun-ho is clueless, folks.

“I—I mean... ugh!”

Hwa-rin looked utterly frustrated at my blank stare. It was probably enough to count as a solid lesson... but let’s add a little more.

“Hwa-rin. Now that I’ve touched it, I noticed something...”

I leaned in close to her ear, keeping my tone as cautious as possible.

“...What...?”

“You’ve been overeating lately.”

“Yah! Kang Yun-ho!!”

“Hahahahahahaha!”

I bolted for the washroom and locked the door behind me.

“If you come out, I’ll kill you!”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

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Before I knew it, closing time had arrived. The customers and staff were gone—only Hwa-rin and I remained.

“I’ll be in the printing room, finishing up the press. Just take care of the rest of the cleanup, please.”

“Let’s do it together.”

“I need to move around a little, anyway.”

“That thing I said earlier was just a joke.”

“Sure it was.”

Hwa-rin seemed bothered by what she’d said that morning and scurried off toward the printing room.

“Alright. Let’s finish up and grab something to eat.”

I let her go and started tidying up what little remained. Most of the cleanup had been handled by the staff before they left, but it was the responsibility of the higher-up to close things out properly.

Just as I was about to head for the front to lock the door, I sensed movement near the entrance.

“...Is this the place?”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

Suddenly, a group of men wearing rain cloaks stepped into the bookstore. Is it raining outside? They had their hoods up all the way over their heads.

“Sorry, folks. We’re closed for today.”

Did they not see the big “Closed” sign?

I flashed them the friendly neighborhood smile of Manager Kang and politely tried to usher them out. But they didn’t so much as glance my way. The men in rain cloaks just kept coming in.

“...Excuse me, sir?”

Were they here for Storm of the Tang Clan? I was used to these kinds of visits—it wasn’t the first time someone had come after hours. But rules are rules.

“Block the front. If there are any other exits, cover them too. Only the few I mentioned earlier will stay inside.”

“Yes, sir!”

When the middle-aged man barked out the order and removed his hood, I immediately realized something was wrong.

Why are martial artists from the Sichuan Tang Clan suddenly here?

Under the robe, his hair was purple. I took a better look—the others all had purple hair too.

“Where’s the person you mentioned?”

“There. That man.”

At the man’s reply, the middle-aged one turned his sharp gaze directly toward me.

Not a friendly visit. That stare was heavy—dangerous. My body’s internal alarm bells were going off. At this rate, I might not be sleeping in my bed tonight.

“Oh! Now that I get a better look—you were one of the Tang Clan warriors who visited Daseogak before, weren’t you? What brings you here tonight?”

I approached the man who pointed me out, trying to play it off with a smile.

“......”

Even as I acted like we were old acquaintances, the man avoided my eyes. Great. Just admit you’re here for trouble already.

Was this about Storm of the Tang Clan? Whatever it was, they’d sealed off the exits. If they weren’t here for good reasons, I couldn’t handle this alone.

I had to buy Hwa-rin time to notice from the printing room. I kept the conversation going.

“Were you perhaps looking for Volume 3? Unfortunately, it’s not out yet, but if you came all this way, I’d be happy to set aside a copy for you when it’s ready...”

“You’re the manager of Daseogak, correct?”

The middle-aged man cut me off with a blunt question.

“Yes, I am. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re also from the Tang Clan, aren’t you? Did you come because someone here praised Storm of the Tang Clan and wanted to buy more copies?”

Please just say you’re here to place a bulk order. I’ll print you a fresh batch right now.

“...Where is Ho-pil?”

...Is he your buddy or something? I wanted to fire back, but held my tongue. Dropping my polite smile, I straightened my posture and answered firmly. freeweɓnovel.cøm

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose the author’s personal information. If you have a message for him, I’ll gladly deliver it.”

“You can’t tell us, huh? I figured it wouldn’t be that easy.”

The man’s hand moved in a flash, grabbing me by the throat. A master. Even with my heightened senses and reflexes, I couldn’t dodge his strike.

“Ghk—!”

His grip tightened. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to resist, but he shut me down easily with a single movement.

Apparently, he wasn’t planning to kill me—once he saw that I was suffering enough, he released his grip.

“...Now are you ready to answer my questions?”

“Why are you doing this?!”

I clutched my throat and glared at him.

“You already know why I’m here.”

“If this is about Storm of the Tang Clan, then you’re gravely mistaken. The protagonist is a chivalrous man! He hunts the Lecher! There’s nothing scandalous in the story. If you’ve read it, then you’d know there’s no reason to threaten me like this.”

There had been other novels in the past that depicted Tang Clan protagonists as villains, and even then, I never heard of authors being harmed for it.

But mine? If anything, I’d drawn the line way inside safe territory. The main character was righteous—walking the proper path. If anything, I redeemed the Tang Clan’s image.

So why the hell were they after me?

“Playing dumb, are you? The true confidant of Ho-pil doesn’t know anything?”

“I... have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re going to act ignorant until the end, huh? Fine.”

“Wait, what—gah!”

The man seized me by the neck again and lifted me off the ground.

“Tell me where Ho-pil lives. If not, I’ll start with you—the so-called true confidant of Ho-pil—and drag the truth out myself!”

“Why are you doing this?!”

I forced out the question through the last air in my lungs.

The man’s voice exploded in fury as he gave me the answer.

An answer I never could have predicted.

“You dare... You DARE publish a novel revealing the Tang Clan’s secret history from 20 years ago—and think you can live?!”