The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

Daehung County.

It’s a county located about 3-4 days away from Chilgok County. Unlike Chilgok County, which has developed its commerce due to its location on the road to Anhui Province, Daehung County doesn’t see a large transient population.

And yet, someone came looking for me there.

Having lived as a storyteller in Chilgok County for several months, I wonder if my reputation has reached Daehung County.

Sohee and I followed a man who claimed to be a servant from the Sung Family of Daehung County and entered the guest room of the inn where the man was staying.

“There was already a guest here.”

In the guest room, there were sturdy men who seemed adept with a sword, waiting around.

It reminded me of the time I went to conduct a second-hand trade, and the other party brought some friends who looked like gangsters.

I would have been a bit nervous if I had come alone.

I subtly glanced at Sohee. She showed a slightly cautious look but didn’t seem too nervous. Reliable, that Heavenly Death Star.

“These are just people who came to escort me. Please, take a seat here.”

The man, who introduced himself as a servant from the Sung Family, invited me to sit across from him at the table.

“Did you come all this way from Daehung County just to invite me?”

“Of course. It’s the first birthday of our family head since he became the head of the Sung Family, and we were contemplating whom to invite for the occasion. Then I heard about you. I haven’t seen anyone who can tell stories better than that Joseon storyteller recently. Everyone who went to Chilgok County praised you highly.”

To think they came all this way just to invite me.

It seemed like my time as a storyteller was building my fame. It’s gratifying to think my hardships weren’t in vain.

A birthday feast, huh. Naturally, there weren’t many forms of entertainment in this world.

A feast was a rare event where one could enjoy those few forms of entertainment.

Rich homeowners didn’t just serve delicious food to their guests on feast days; they also provided various entertainments to showcase their generosity and wealth.

Storytellers, living day by day, hoped to be invited to such grand feasts, performing on the streets to make their talents known far and wide.

Once invited to a grand feast, they received generous rewards and treatment, entertaining the guests on the feast day.

“It sounds like an overstatement. I only have just enough skills to make a living.”

“No need to be modest. I just heard your story. It was quite a heroic tale. I was deeply impressed.”

“Ha ha. Thank you.”

It’s nice to be praised, but it felt like they were laying it on a bit thick.

“What do you think? Would you like to come with us to Daehung County?”

He’s already asking about my intentions. Did he think I’d just agree because I thanked him?

Of course, there’s no reason to refuse. But agreeing right away would be amateurish.

An invitation to the birthday feast of the Daehung County Sung Family head. If they came all this way just for me, I can make a big deal out of it.

“I’ve just started a new performance in Chilgok County, and the audience response has been very good. But to ignore their expectations and go to Daehung County…”

I trailed off, intentionally leaving room for negotiation.

“Huh. Sounds like you’re doing well in Chilgok County.”

The man took a step back, assessing my response.

“It’s just sometimes replacing porridge with rose sauce.”

It’s usually Sohee who got the rose sauce, but these days she leaves a bit for me almost every time.

“Rose sauce! You must be earning quite a lot! I didn’t invite you lightly. Would this be enough for an advance payment?”

The man handed over a small pouch.

It’s not a thick pouch but a small one. Did he intend to give a stingy advance payment? I opened the pouch to see its contents.

“Huh?”

The color was a bit strange.

“I’ll give you 1 gold as an advance payment.”

I stared blankly at the shining coin inside the pouch.

Wow. So this currency really existed.

“1 gold for an advance payment. After the feast, I’ll give you 2 more gold. What do you think?”

Three gold for inviting a storyteller?

Calm down. Settle the trembling in your heart. Maintain a poker face.

‘It’s too much money.’

It’s such a large sum that it’s suspicious.

I had never even seen a 1 gold coin, and now they were offering me three.

The amount was so large that I barely managed to keep my rationality from being overwhelmed.

If I objectively assessed myself, I was not a storyteller of such renown. Did the Sung Family really have so much money to spend 3 gold on a foreign storyteller?

It’s possible. But something felt off.

‘It smells like a scam.’

It’s like the scent of a swindler who hid their dark intentions behind an enticing reward.

Like luring struggling small business owners with low-interest loans only to swindle their money, such captivating rewards can deceive someone naive like me.

My experiences that had saved my life several times were accelerating. Let’s think about the doubtful points right now.

Did it make sense to come all this way just to invite me?

Was 3 gold a reasonable price for the story of a foreign storyteller?

The man in front seemed like a martial artist, so why did he call himself a servant?

Then there’s the natural disrespect that instinctively comes out. For a servant, the martial artists seemed to regard him with respect, as if he’s a superior.

I couldn’t pinpoint it, but something felt strangely wrong.

‘An invitation from the Sung Family… Something rings a bell. Ah! Could it be?’

Suddenly, a story I heard in the past came to mind.

“Is there a specific story I should tell if I go? Or can I choose any story I like?”

“The story of Prince Hamurin you told today was really interesting. I’d like you to tell the story of Prince Hamurin at the feast.”

So that’s what it was.

The puzzle pieces in my mind fell into place.

“I will decline the Sung Family’s invitation.”

I refused the Sung Family’s invitation with a serious expression.

“Why? 3 golds is a huge sum, isn’t it? The Sung Family has never spent 3 golds on a single entertainer for a feast day.”

Exactly.

It would indeed be a large sum for a storyteller.

I put the gold coin I had taken out back into the pouch and slowly placed it on the table.

“The amount is quite large for a storyteller’s story, but woefully insufficient for a storyteller’s life.”

I looked at the man with a smirk, as if to say I knew everything.

“… You knew?”

The man’s expression hardened, and he spoke in a stiff tone.

Just as I suspected.

“You’re not a servant sent by the family head, are you? What is your relationship with the late Sungjoru, the family head?”

“… He was my father.”

I thought so.

The story that came to mind was one I heard when I first arrived in Chilgok County.

The Sung Family’s Sungjoru and Sungjiru.

The incident that led me to tell the story of Prince Hamurin in Chilgok County.

Originally, the position of the family head should have gone to the deceased Sungjoru’s son, but due to the schemes of his uncle and the uncle’s mistress, this man in front of me didn’t inherit the position, and it went to his uncle instead.

“Inciting someone to do something (激將之計). Were you planning to accuse your uncle of murdering your father by having me tell the story of Prince Hamurin at the feast?”

There can be no other reason for insisting on showing Prince Hamurin at the feast.

“Accusation! Those scoundrels killing my father is an open secret!”

The man slammed the desk in anger.

This guy had the nerve. He’s the one who should not be hitting the desk.

“But since there’s no evidence, you wanted to use me, right?”

“… That’s right. I hoped to use his reaction to the performance as a pretext for my supporters to rise up.”

The man reluctantly nodded.

“Calm down before that happens. Kang Mo wouldn’t have been safe.”

There was no way the enraged head of the Sung Family would have left me alone.

Of course, the enraged Heavenly Death Star wouldn’t have left the head of the Sung Family alone either.

“… I would have tried my best to protect you.”

The man, seemingly vulnerable when it came to hitting the nail on the head, closed his eyes and spoke.

“Sure you did. I’m getting up now. And since my neck was briefly on Seong Sehwi’s scale, I’ll take this money.”

I picked up the pouch containing 1 gold, sending an angry glare as if to claim the price of my life.

You. If you refuse this, it’s a ninja massacre.

“The money doesn’t matter. Sorry for not explaining in detail. But my father died unjustly. Can’t you help me for justice?”

“Coming with ulterior motives, cunningly tempting, and now you speak of justice? The world would laugh. Let’s go, Sohee!”

I called Sohee in Korean and then, rising briskly from my seat, went to the door with her.

“I’m sorry! If you change your mind, come back. I will treat you with great respect as a guest of the Sung Family!”

The man pleaded pitifully as we opened the door to leave.

I’m not going, kid.

I’ll safely make money here, telling the story of Prince Romeo and Miss Ju.

I was almost about to sell my life for 3 golds.

A day had passed since I met people from the Sung Family.

Lying in bed, I stared blankly at the shining details of the gold coin.

“With this money, I could write a book.”

I had always thought it wasn’t the right time yet, postponing writing a book that I had been thinking about. Now, it seems possible.

Naturally, writing a book cost a lot of money.

It’s not just expensive; for me, it’s like throwing money into the sky.

When I first wrote ‘The Tale of Martial Heroes’, I somehow completed it using very poor quality paper and ink that was more like muddy water, and a brush that was falling apart. But the result was disappointing.

It wasn’t a popular genre, and no one cared for a book in such poor condition.

Even though it’s not like modern times, where books must be sold at fixed prices due to the use of stone-mixed paper, here too, I need to use good quality paper and ink to write a book.

And one book was not enough.

A book might not get attention in one bookstore, so I needed to write at least a dozen books and distribute them to several bookstores.

And all of that required money.

“Time was also an issue.”

Of course, writing new material requires time. It took many plot revisions and edits to produce a single book. That alone took a lot of time.

And it didn’t end with writing one book.

Copying dozens of books by hand would also take a significant amount of time.

It’s like transferring data from decades-old documents to Excel; it’s time-consuming, let alone the task of hand-copying.

In other words, for someone like me with nothing, writing a novel requires money to buy good quality paper, ink, and the time to write and copy the book, as well as living expenses during that period.

“If the new work fails, I lose both time and money.”

Failure meant losing both time and money.

The funny thing was, even if the book was successful, it didn’t mean I would earn a lot of money.

Of course, success brought fame. But unless I hit the jackpot and signed my next work for a high price, I might barely break even with just a dozen books or so.

If I were a fantasy noble or a family young master, I wouldn’t worry about this. I could just write and enjoy a slow life if I failed.

For me, barely making ends meet as a storyteller and investing my spare time in martial arts training, writing a book is quite a risk in my current situation.

It’s bittersweet.

Here or in reality, the challenges of those who have nothing require risking everything. For some, it’s just a funny failure story to tell, but for others, a failure could mean never getting back up again.

“With this money, I can try.”

I gazed at the unexpected golden opportunity before me. With this money, even if I fail, I can get back up.

“When the water comes in, turn on the engine. Now is the time to focus on the story of Prince Romeo and Miss Ju.”

This story, too, will have its declining period, just like the Hamurin performance did, when people start to dwindle.

When that time comes, let’s stop storytelling and start writing.

“But why isn’t Sohee coming?”

She said she’d be back soon after eating, but she’s been gone for quite a while.

After the Cheongsapa incident, Sohee has been treating me more gently. If it’s not just simple guilt, maybe I’ve found a place in her heart.

She had been teaching me martial arts, provided a house, and even took care of food deliveries.

‘I’m practically a supporting husband.’

Not exactly a provider, but I do feel a bit of a moral burden.

I’m curious about what she thinks of me now.

Not quite at the level of acknowledging me as a brother, but maybe some affection has grown from living together.

How did she view me?

“You’re back.”

Sohee entered the room.

“Welcome back.”

Should we eat first? Or take a bath? I can’t drop those kinds of hints, so I greeted her with a smile as usual.

“……”

However, Sohee didn’t respond to my greeting and just continued to stare at me silently.

“Sohee?”

Do you have something to say? She seemed to be hesitating, slightly chewing on her lip.

Finally, Sohee spoke while continuing to look at me.

“Yunho.”

“Yes?”

“Become my husband.”

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