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The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel (109+)

Mtl . Contains chs after 109 .

raycrimson · ファンタジー
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113 Chs

118

Chapter 118 - Management - 5

Rough draft.

For an author, revealing an unedited manuscript to others is a fairly embarrassing affair.

If one were to make a comparison, it may be akin to the shame a woman feels when she inadvertently shows her bare face to her boyfriend, after always presenting herself with full makeup.

Of course, I have never had the fantasy of a girlfriend who always appears before me in full makeup, so I can only imagine the woman's reaction in such a scenario.

"I'll take a look."

"Do you really need to read it?"

"Quit your complaining and hand it over."

"Ugh."

What I am writing is the manuscript for a martial arts fiction.

The embarrassment of showing a rough draft, especially to a roommate of the opposite sex, was unfathomable. It was almost like showing one's roommate their most furious morning physiological reactions.

Every moment was spent agonizing over whether I should hand it over, but what can I do? Dang Hwa Rin had a look that clearly stated that a bloody disaster could only be prevented if she was kindly given the rough draft.

Besides, she promised to help me with her Dang family's technical know-how if she ever visited.

Dang Hwa Rin seriously examined the rough draft, then opened her mouth to speak.

"The poison technique verification is a mess."

"What part?"

"It's possible to stealthily poison someone using the poison technique, but it's not omnipotent. Even in the wilderness, one can use the poison technique, but it depends on the wind, location, and type of poison to be effective. You can't just release poison into the sky haphazardly and expect it to work."

"The poison is supposed to catch them off guard, that's why I wrote it like that."

The protagonist is backed into a corner. The opponent is smugly laughing. But suddenly, the protagonist grins triumphantly as the execution music BGM starts to play.

An unveiling of the protagonist's trump card. The opponent screams in agony. This is the effect I was aiming for by using the poison technique.

"A confined space. Close proximity. Otherwise, you should at least describe that the surrounding environment was favorable for the use of poison technique after it has been employed. I won't tolerate such a sloppy depiction of poison technique."

Dang Hwa Rin criticized my portrayal of the poison technique with a look that said, "Do you even understand what poison technique is? I can't tolerate this."

Hwa Rin, if this were reality, you would have left a long comment pointing out the problems with the verification process.

"I'll add the descriptions."

"And there's an issue with the secret techniques as well. Why is the protagonist aiming for the Fatal Point (死穴) against the Seductress?"

"Isn't it only logical to aim for the vital points that lead to death upon impact? You aimed for those points yourself when dealing with bandits."

"That's because they were amateurs. The Seductress (色魔) we're talking about is a master that would obviously protect the Fatal Points from any incoming secret weapons."

"Then what should be done?"

"The Numbing Point (痲穴). If I were the protagonist, I would go for the Numbing Points like Kaketsu, Biyu, and Gokji that cause paralysis upon impact, and then seize the opportunity to target the Fatal Points that open up. By doing that, even a formidable Seductress would be forced to contemplate escape or a fight to the death."

Is she suggesting something like using a low kick in mixed martial arts to take away the opponent's mobility before aiming for the critical strike? Even secret techniques can become profound when it's something from the Sacheondang family.

"Alright, I'll describe the technique starting with the Numbing Points instead of going straight for the Fatal Points."

"Good. And..."

"There's more?"

"Of course there's more! What in the world is this 'Sacheondang's Ultimate Stroke' you've written here?!"

Dang Hwa Rin angrily pointed out the crucial move I had created.

"Ah! The Extreme Death Seven Nights (極死七夜)! I came up with that."

"You created it?"

"A protagonist should always have a special technique, it's cooler that way. I tossed between calling it Seagal Fist (Seagal拳) or Extreme Death Seven Nights (極死七夜). But the latter seemed cooler."

"This is a martial arts technique I've never heard or seen before."

Dang Hwa Rin snorted in disbelief as she kept looking at the created Ultimate Stroke of the Dang clan, finding it preposterous.

"Listen. The Magnificent Chaos Dance is too powerful a technique for the protagonist to use. Instead of throwing a hidden blade, the protagonist runs alongside the thrown blade. As soon as the enemy dodges the blade, the protagonist strikes! He snaps the enemy's neck. What do you think?"

Day after day, the Sacheondang family tossed poison. It was powerful. They spread secret weapons. It was underhanded. The Magnificent Chaos Dance was mighty. But you can't just settle for that.

"If a technique or lightness skill of that caliber existed, simply throwing poison or secret weapons near the enemy would suffice to win."

This woman has no sense of romance.

"Then how about this? The protagonist attaches a string to the hidden blade..."

"That's not going to work! Why are you so fond of attaching strings to hidden blades?"

If one were a part of the Chosun martial arts world, such martial arts would inevitably carry a sense of romanticism. A pity. Is there no way to adapt it?

I continued to have feedback sessions with Dang Hwa Rin, constantly improving the quality of the martial arts depicted in the novel.

------------------

"And next is—... Oh!"

I stealthily glanced at the rough draft I had handed to Dang Hwa Rin when I heard her startled voice. Having seen martial arts and fraternity appear in the novel, the next scene was obvious.

"Hwa Rin. I'll take care of the next part."

If the mood becomes awkward, it only gets more embarrassing. I casually smiled and reached out my hand for the rough draft.

"I, I know some things too. I can give... advice."

Was my smile counterproductive? Hwa Rin looked at my complacent face and suddenly got defensive.

"What can you advise me on? Just give it to me."

"That's the thing."

Dang Hwa Rin fidgeted with her fingers, then bowed her head low and looked at her own impressive pectoral muscles.

"Huh?"

"Th-the chest movement. It, it rubs the skin a bit. It seems like it might need... lubricant."

Excuse me, what?

"Hwa Rin. How do you even—"

"Do you have to ask?"

Hwa Rin gave an embarrassed look and glanced at the long, firm wooden rod lying next to the bed, her face reddening.

Oh dear. Good heavens.

"Hwa Rin. Let's just agree that I'll handle this kind of thing alone in the future. Don't try experimenting with that anymore."

The urge to die all over again arises. Why would she experiment with that?

"I-I'm trying to help."

"I can't allow it for the sake of my personal dignity."

It's also not allowed for the sake of your proper sexual values.

"Ugh... I built up the courage to try an experiment."

Dang Hwa Rin seemed dissatisfied with my declaration, looking at me indignantly with her face flushed.

Why would you pluck up the courage to test that? Thanks for thinking it through. I really appreciate it. But it's not okay. Please don't. If I look at my novel after that, I might die of embarrassment.

Despite Dang Hwa Rin's complaints, I declared that I would revise these parts alone in the future.

-------------

Even if I wish to just write for a living, I still need to work during the day to make ends meet.

Even in this world, the woes of a part-time novelist remain unchanged.

"Hwa Rin. I'll teach you how to brew coffee."

"Alright. I'll do my best."

The bookstore's reputation was growing, and the number of customers began to increase day by day.

Regrettably, the more people there were, the less Hwa Rin could be on the first floor. She worked with a veil, but there were customers who found this disagreeable.

Previously, when the store was quiet, she could quickly organize the books, but with the growing number of customers, it became harder to do so during lunchtime.

I grabbed Hwa Rin's hand, which was hanging dejectedly in a corner, and brought her up to the second-floor counter. Making coffee behind the wall would mean avoiding bumping into customers.

If it were me, I'd just loiter in a corner calling it a break! But why would someone who works tirelessly night and day want to dig herself into a hole for not being able to do this one thing?

I don't mind sharing the work, though.

"Sire. Please make me an iced café latte."

While I was teaching Hwa Rin, a customer placed an order.

"We've got an order. Hwa Rin. You remember what I taught you, right?"

"I remember, so just do the billing."

"Such a temperament. Alright, then."

Perhaps it was finding something to do, but it was good to see her spirits lifted.

"Customer, the café latte is 50 copper, with 5 copper more for ice, so that's 55 copper."

"Hmm. Here. But is she your lover? Or your wife?"

The lady glanced at Dang Hwa Rin with curiosity as she brewed coffee, then turned to me with the question.

"Uh? Oh! She's a friend."

Hwa Rin, make the coffee. Don't look over here.

"Ha-ha, right. Of course, that would be unlikely."

The lady boldly met Dang Hwa Rin's glaring eyes with a rivalry-filled look, and smirked while eyeing Dang Hwa Rin's veiled face.

She's laughing in front of Hwa Rin. She's our landlady, after all. Can't just leave it at that.

"Hey, I...

Before I could say a word, Hwa Rin suddenly threw something heavy to stop me.

What's the matter? You can't just tolerate that. It's our shop. I shot her a look of protest, but Dang Hwa Rin just shook her head to signal that it was okay.

"Hehehe, Sir. Shall we have a drink at that fancy tavern across the street after you close for the day?"

"Hey, take your coffee."

Dang Hwa Rin approached swiftly, her voice cold as she virtually tossed the coffee in front of the young woman.

"What?"

The lady, confounded and annoyed, looked back at Dang Hwa Rin with an incredulous expression.

"Right, hey. There are other customers waiting, so move along and stop fussing around."

Dang Hwa Rin and the young woman stood their ground, engaging in an intense staring contest. Hwa Rin, why do you fight when I try to stop you?

"Hmm. What? You really are something else, aren't you? But you should know your place."

The lady alternated her gaze between us and then laughed at Dang Hwa Rin with a knowing expression.

"What?"

Dang Hwa Rin glared daggers back at her, incensed by her ridicule.

"Hehehe, it's alright. Sir, let's meet next time, when there are no interruptions."

The young woman returned to her seat, barely concealing her jeers, holding the coffee.

What kind of behavior is this? It was usually a quiet clientele interested in books, but clearly, the service industry is still the service industry.

"Hwa Rin, you did well to hold back."

"Hold back? I didn't hold back at all."

Hwa Rin looked up at me, sporting a mischievous smile as if she was plotting something sinister.

I felt uneasy. My eyes followed the young lady who had just returned to her seat. Before she even sat down, she suddenly clutched her stomach.

"Why does my stomach suddenly..."

The lady, enduring a look of suffering, struggled to find the restroom.

That's the wrong direction. It's the opposite way.

— Pfft, pffft!

Ah... I know that sound.

"I don't know anythiiiiing!"

That day, I learned of the Dang family's toxin called "Seven Steps Stool (七步糞," which causes a reaction in the lower abdomen after just seven steps, and the young woman earned a nickname as a defiler due to her inability to hold it even at that age.

The Dasogak bookstore may have lost a customer forever, but it wasn't a great loss.

---------------

"It's finished."

I looked at the completed 'Dangga Pungwoon' with a sense of awe.

The 'Dangga Pungwoon' I wrote and Dang Hwa Rin reviewed. Should

I mention that it was verified by the Sacheondang family when it's published?

"Yoonho! I left the materials in the print room!"

I heard Dang Hwa Rin's voice from the floor below.

"Wait! I'll bring the books."

Finally, all that's left is to print and publish.