The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 262: Guild Head - 2
“You damn barbarians! You filthy bastards set a trap?!”
Wow, they really all showed up. I looked down from the third floor at the two Black Faction gangs and thought to myself.
Black Labor Faction and Red Line Faction. The two underworld gangs, caught in the trap, now stared up at the Joseon people above, their faces dawning with realization.
“You lowly black-haired dogs don’t know your place! How dare you?!”
“Looks like we’ve gotta beat the crap out of the barbarians first!”
The thugs drew their blades, charging toward the blocked-off staircase leading to the second floor to slash at the Joseon people above.
Hey now. Go any further and it’s a ring out. Your battlefield is the first floor, not the second.
As the thugs tried to storm the second floor, I raised my hand to signal the Joseon folks.
“Aaaargh!”
“The barbarians are throwing stones!”
We held the high ground. This is the proud tradition of Joseon people living in foreign lands: Rubu-dap—the Joseon way of hurling down from rooftops.
Even if they’re martial artists, if they’re just third-rate, they’re not withstanding a rain of stones hurled from above.
“You think you’ll get away with this?!”
Yep. Pretty sure we will. The Joseon people filling the inn sneered wordlessly at the enraged thugs.
A standoff formed between the Joseon crowd, Black Labor Faction, and Red Line Faction.
I’d laid out the stage knowing they’d eventually fight anyway, but now that they believed it was a trap, they were too cautious to act recklessly.
But there’s a way to fix that.
Activating the Soyoon Mental Resonance Technique, I sent my voice echoing throughout the entire inn.
“The fighters seem a bit shy! While we wait, a quick announcement! Red Line Faction! Recently, in an effort to shrink the Black Labor Faction’s influence, drunkenly shoved the Black Labor boss’s younger brother into the river—murder!”
Sometimes, all it takes is a stone tossed into a quiet stream.
“What?!”
“How do you know that?!”
How do I know? Wuchang Harbor is crawling with Joseon people.
“You son of a bitch!”
The Black Labor boss gripped his blade with a face full of murderous fury. Oh no—you can’t have just one side angry. Time for the other reveal.
“And now, for the other side! Black Labor Faction! Just recently, their boss met the Red Line boss’s nephew and cousin right here in this inn—provoked them with his underlings and slaughtered them both!”
Two Joseon employees working at the inn and one Joseon guest were caught up and killed in the process.
“You bastard! My nephew didn’t start anything!”
“Whoever starts it, weaklings die—that’s the rule!”
Rage blinds reason. And just like that, their blades turned on each other.
“Stop this! It’s all a barbarian trap!”
Trap? That’s rude. I just laid out the stage.
As one of the underlings shouted desperately, the two gang bosses shot uneasy glances toward us, clearly torn.
Guess it’s time to toss a bomb instead of stones.
“Here’s an update! The Black Labor boss, fearing he’d lose today, secretly attacked the home of the Red Line boss’s elderly mother—ordered his men to kill her if he doesn’t return in time!”
“What?!”
Now that’s a reaction. Just as I said it, the Red Line boss screamed in shock.
“For reference, the place she’s being held is a warehouse frequently used by the Black Labor Faction! If this isn’t wrapped up soon, today will be her funeral!”
It probably wasn’t true. The Black Labor Faction had brought everyone here—he likely just told Choi Il-gu and Sam-gu to handle it. But what matters is that he gave the order.
“...Then today, in this inn, I’ll sever your life.”
“I’ll kill you bastards—then I’ll wipe out those barbarian scum too!”
The two gang bosses had made their decision.
“Attack!!!”
“Gah! My arm!”
“If stabbing the neck is too hard, go for the limbs first!”
“Ooooooh!”
“A sharp opening strike from Black Labor Faction! True to their thug nature, two are ganging up on one!”
Watching thirty people brawl below from above was a spectacle.
Like a commentator calling the highlights of a grand tournament, I joyfully kept narrating.
“Someone help him, quick!”
“Red Line Faction is preparing to throw hidden weapons from one side!”
“Why the hell is he announcing it?!”
Because you’re all supposed to destroy each other.
“Is it overconfidence?! A Red Line thug is sneaking behind Black Labor with a dagger ready!”
“Dodge it!!!”
“Who the hell is that bastard shouting from up there?!”
I’m Kang Yun-ho, new guild head of the Joseon Association.
Each gang had barely over ten people. Only their bosses were at the second-tier level. I, meanwhile, orchestrated the battlefield like a conductor, using my commentary to subtly guide them toward mutual destruction.
“And now, only ten Red Line and eight Black Labor remain! They’re facing off again! Normally, one side would flee, but with exits sealed, time is running out! Will the Red Line boss’s mother die today?!”
“Khrrrk!”
“Fuuuuuuck!”
Both sides groaned in grief and desperation.
Meanwhile, upstairs, the Joseon people were having the time of their lives.
“That’s it? You guys suck! I bet 8 on Red Line and 6 on Black Labor!”
“Yes! I won!”
“You won? Then treat us to dinner later.”
“Pay off your debt first!”
“Roasted squid! Peanuts here!”
“Can I get some roasted squid over here?”
“No peanuts for you?”
“I’m allergic to peanuts...”
“We’ve also got Hellfire Chicken Skewers! Want one?”
“Too spicy for me, sorry...”
They say the most entertaining things to watch are fires and fights. The Joseon folks were watching the thugs who normally tormented them tear each other apart—and boosting the inn’s sales while they were at it.
“Finally, one-on-one! As expected, only the bosses remain!”
Among the corpses and groaning bodies on the first floor, only two were left standing.
“Grr!”
Is it finally ending? The Red Line boss, clearly stronger, slashed the Black Labor boss’s arm, sending the latter’s sword clattering to the floor.
Bit of a letdown. That leaves the Red Line boss too intact.
“He’s dropped his blade! Black Labor is in critical danger! Will he notice the legendary weapon lying near him?!”
Come on, fight just a bit more. I’ve even prepped a secret weapon.
“Legendary weapon? Don’t tell me... this is it?”
That’s the one. The Black Labor boss, who hadn’t even paid it any mind till now, picked it up with wide eyes.
Even the Joseon crowd noticed the shift and shouted in excitement.
“He picked it up! The steel chair!”
The legendary weapon was... a steel chair.
“They say in the martial world: a hundred days for a spear, a thousand for a saber, ten thousand for a sword! Mastery takes time! But the weapon in his hands? A steel chair!”
The Red Line boss raised his blade again.
“The steel chair blocked the sword!”
“Look at that flawless offense-defense combo! You can sit on it, you can swing it—no skill required! The true king of all-purpose weapons!”
“The king of all weapons—the steel chair!”
The sword stuck in the chair, and the Red Line boss panicked. The Black Labor boss seized the opportunity.
“Die! Diiie! DIIIEEE!”
Putting his all into it, the steel chair smashed into the Red Line boss’s head. His neck twisted—definitely fatal.
At last, it was the Red Line boss who fell.
“I’ll kill you damn barbarians!!!”
Bodies and blood all over the first floor. The last man standing, the Black Labor boss, shouted in fury toward the upper level.
Now he’ll regroup his forces and start tormenting the Joseon people again, nursing this grudge.
But see—that’s assuming you’re the final winner.
“Hm.”
The kitchen door on the first floor opened, and a man stepped out, calmly walking toward the Black Labor boss.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“And just what do you think you’re doing in an inn guarded by the Seocheon Escort Bureau?”
“What are you... ugh!”
The escort warrior’s sword moved faster than anything those gangsters had ever seen today.
“Indeed, a proper inn brawl should always end with a sudden appearance by a hidden master. Please give a round of applause for our final victor—the escort from Seocheon Escort Bureau!”
“Woooooooooooooooo!”
You really thought I’d leave loose ends?
---------------
“Guild Head Kang Yun-ho!”
I was wondering when they’d show up. As soon as the thugs in the inn were taken care of, the Choi Il-gu, Il-gu, and Sam-gu brothers approached me with deeply moved expressions.
“Don’t just stand there looking touched. Take this.”
With an indifferent face, I handed the three brothers a small box.
“A pigeon?”
“It’s a homing pigeon. Use it to contact me when needed. Also, I want you to be the ones who introduce Joseon laborers to fill the dock work the thugs used to control.”
“You mean us?”
“Who else? We Joseon folks should stick together. As long as you don’t extort people like those thugs did, it’ll be good for you and for the rest of the Joseon community.”
It may be a small slice of the pie, but it's the kind of slice the two underworld gangs were willing to kill over. I did all the hard work, so if someone’s going to benefit, it might as well be the Choi brothers—especially since they’re martial artists now.
“You’re entrusting us with something like this...”
The three brothers looked at me with expressions of respect so deep they could barely contain it.
“I’ll also °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° send all the cargo handling work from the Seocheon Escort Bureau’s ships your way. Do a good job, alright? That okay with you, Escort Captain?”
I turned and asked the Escort Captain of the Wuchang branch of the Seocheon Escort Bureau standing beside me.
“Since you’re offering a good rate, I’ve no reason to decline.”
The Escort Captain smiled and nodded.
The Seocheon Escort Bureau would get cheap labor, and the Joseon people would get a stable income. A win-win for both sides.
“You’re even giving us the work?! Then... how much should we pay you in tribute?”
I guess hanging out with thugs taught them a thing or two. They’re quick with numbers when it counts.
“You’d rob a flea of its liver. Do I really look that cheap to you?”
I laughed like an uncle scoffing at his nephew’s meager allowance.
But of course, they weren’t going to take that at face value, right?
“No, of course not! But still, you’re giving us jobs...”
Good. You’re supposed to refuse once.
“If your conscience really bothers you, don’t give anything to me. Set it aside as dues for the Association. Then we can use it to help Joseon folks who can’t eat or afford clothes.”
I raised my voice, powered by the Soyoon Mental Resonance Technique, like a noble benefactor who wasn’t fixated on small change.
Everyone in the inn heard it, didn’t they? A subtle yet clear display of what kind of man the new Joseon Association Guild Head was.
The three brothers looked overwhelmed, their faces trembling. Then, without needing to be told, they dropped to their knees.
“...Guild Head! We pledge our loyalty!”
“Guild Head! We’ll do our best!”
“This grace... we’ll never forget it! Please accept our bow!”
The three of them bowed to me as if I were the patriarch of their clan, swearing loyalty with their foreheads to the floor.
“Good. If you keep working hard, I’ll use you for even greater things.”
The brothers probably hadn’t noticed, but every eye in the inn was now on me.
Expectation. Admiration. Awe. I gave the brothers a few pats on the shoulder, satisfied with the scene I had deliberately staged.
-------------
“You’re really planning to turn this inn into a coliseum?”
As I watched the Joseon people cleaning up the first floor, Im Ha-yeon quietly approached me.
“Does it sound impossible?”
“It’s a clever idea—making martial artists fight and drawing a crowd—but there aren’t many martial artists willing to be turned into entertainment.”
She’s right. Take away a martial artist’s pride, and what’s left?
Even mercenaries who fight for money still want to fight with honor. They don’t want to be some cheap spectacle.
To run a proper coliseum, I’d have to pay people enough that saying no would be impossible.
“I have no such plans. This time was just for the sake of the Joseon Association.”
A coliseum would come with too many headaches. I shook my head and smiled faintly.
“For the Joseon Association?”
Im Ha-yeon tilted her head in confusion.
“Both of those thug bosses were infamous for tormenting Joseon folks. You can’t even count how many were beaten to death, crippled, or left unable to walk because of them.”
“So this was revenge for the Joseon people?”
“I’d prefer you see it as my inauguration ceremony.”
Because Joseon people were being oppressed?
It wasn’t that I flew into a patriotic rage and channeled the spirit of global K-dramas, K-POP, world-class football clubs like Manchester United, Tottenham, and Napoli, or the pride of Korean e-sports and K-games to deliver a righteous kick against injustice.
No, this wasn’t just about revenge. I had other reasons.
“Inauguration?”
“People’s perception changes when they look down on those who used to make them grovel in fear. Just watching those thugs tear each other apart from above makes them feel like they took part in the revenge. And while they look up at the man who orchestrated it all, they’ll etch his power into their minds.”
The Guild Head’s power must come first. And to do that, the revenge had to be absolute.
Some people, too caught up in the cheers, didn’t even notice—but among those Joseon folks who had suffered under those thugs, there were people who couldn’t take their eyes off the fight. Some were even in tears.
“You mean you?”
“Exactly. I could shout a hundred times that I’m the new guild head, but this one act probably conveyed it better than anything else. That we have a guild head now. That he’s reliable. That he’ll help us. But to do so, we must follow his orders. It plants reverence and fear all at once.”
Normally, being a guild head of the Joseon Association isn’t a big deal.
It’s like being the apartment complex committee chair. Or the team leader for a group project. That’s why Ahn accepted the role so easily in the first place.
I didn’t step up just for that.
I have no roots in Wuchang.
I’m standing at a crossroads—either live forever as a debtor, or find wings to soar above the world.
And I’m not leaving that decision to the flip of a coin or blind luck. I must succeed. And to do that, I need people I can command like my own limbs.
“You’re right. The way the Joseon people look at you has changed.”
“Today’s events will spread to every Joseon person in Wuchang—even the ones who weren’t here. From now on, when the guild head calls, no one will be able to ignore it.”
I leaned on the railing and looked down.
On the first floor, Joseon people were diligently cleaning up—glancing at me from time to time, even though I hadn’t said a word.
They understood.
If they made a good impression now, one day they might benefit like the Choi brothers did.
“You really are... something else.”
Im Ha-yeon looked at me, speechless with amazement.
“I plan to start a real business now.”
“If it’s not the coliseum, then are you going to use the Joseon people to open a labor brokerage at the harbor?”
A labor operation at the docks is good too. It’ll definitely be profitable. But that’s not the only reason I went this far.
Looking toward Im Ha-yeon, who was now watching me with concern, I smiled to reassure her and spoke:
“I’m thinking of doing something much greater.”
Now that I’ve gained hands and feet—I need to launch a business even bigger than a coliseum.
