The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 237: Storm of the Tang Clan Volume 3 - 5

“They’re releasing a Storm of the Tang Clan side story?”

“They say the side story’s length will depend on which main wife set sells best.”

“Decided by popularity? As a proud member of the Most Beautiful Courtesan of Hubei faction, I can’t sit idly by! We’re heading to Daseogak right now!”

The main wife set you purchase determines who the Storm of the Tang Clan heroine is.

A brilliantly seductive sales tactic, sure—but if Storm of the Tang Clan turns into a long-running series, then sprinting toward an endless finish line can feel overwhelmingly distant.

That’s where a mid-stop like the fantasy genre’s orc chieftain, the martial world’s bandit leader, or the gender-swap novel’s part-time store clerk heroine comes in handy.

My personal version of that mid-stop? Heroine-specific side stories.

The problem is, if I’m not careful, even the side stories could come off like another evil marketing ploy.

“I personally asked Author Ho-pil to consider writing a side story.”

All I have to do is manage the public narrative myself.

“Manager Kang, you asked him directly?”

“As the manager of Daseogak, I found myself wondering if there was anything I could do to thank the loyal readers of Storm of the Tang Clan. Just then, I had an idea—what if we got a side story about the women who’ve appeared so far? So I paid a visit to Author Ho-pil.”

“And what did he say?”

“He wasn’t too thrilled. He’s pouring everything into planning Volume 4, so asking him to write something he hadn’t even intended to begin with—well, naturally, it didn’t go over too well.”

I mimicked Ho-pil’s troubled expression in front of the Daseohoe and continued the story.

“Then how come a side story is happening?”

“Author Ho-pil said he couldn’t do the side story, but instead told me I could have all the profits from Volume 3. He said I deserved it for risking my life to protect Storm of the Tang Clan.”

“All of Volume 3’s profits?”

“No way!”

Looking out past Daseogak’s window, the line of people still stretched endlessly down the street.

Thinking that Manager Kang Yun-ho might pocket all the Volume 3 profits—yeah, anyone would be shocked.

Refusing would’ve made me look like a complete fool.

“I turned him down immediately.”

I looked the Daseohoe in the eyes with the serene face of a scholar unmoved by money.

“Why?!”

“Because what belongs to Author Ho-pil should rightfully go to him. I believe the support of our readers is worth far more than that money.”

Manager Kang isn’t some greedy merchant who worships gold. Time to push that image hard.

“Us?”

“If I were the kind of man who’d cave before money, I never would’ve been dragged off to the Sichuan Tang Clan in the first place. I just earnestly asked for a story that could quench the burning thirst of Storm of the Tang Clan’s readers. In the end, even Author Ho-pil agreed.”

“Of course! Even someone like Ho-pil couldn’t ignore the fact that a close friend risked his life to protect his book!”

“Manager Kang thought about us like that...”

The Daseohoe members looked at me, visibly moved.

The side story for Storm of the Tang Clan isn’t a sales gimmick—it’s a gift for the loyal readers. As the main wife wars rage on, they’ll surely be discussing this story too.

Manager Kang turned down the chance to take all the profits from Volume 3 and convinced Author Ho-pil.

Author Ho-pil, deeply touched by his friend and benefactor, agreed to write a side story he hadn’t even planned for.

A touching anecdote, no matter who hears it.

Too bad I’m both of those people.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s fan service.

“I’ll take 50 Azure Crimson Sets.”

“Fifty?!”

“Those new recruits must be loaded!”

“Denied.”

I immediately rejected the new member.

“Why not?”

“The main wife sets are a measure of how much Storm of the Tang Clan readers care about each character. Reckless bulk buying just to skew the results is prohibited.”

Money-powered voting is fine—but if it devolves into a lopsided competition, the majority might start feeling powerless.

Main wife sets will remain a key product in Daseogak’s lineup. If I only cared about short-term profits, I’d allow it—but long-term, it’s a bad idea.

“Tch... fine, just give me one set.”

“I guess I misunderstood Manager Kang.”

“I thought he was possessed by money!”

“Turning down all those profits from Volume 3, and even refusing a bulk order of main wife sets...”

Come on, now. I’m a merchant who only uses honest business practices.

“No matter what anyone says, I’m Daseohoe’s first member. I just want Author Ho-pil to succeed and our readers to enjoy the ride.”

I smiled at them, wearing the face of a pure fan running a store without a shred of selfishness.

“That’s right! We knew we picked the right guy!”

“Just like a true founding member of Daseohoe!”

“Lies. There’s no way...”

Im Ha-yeon. Why are you mumbling to yourself in the back?

“I’ll take another Azure Crimson Set.”

“Didn’t you just order one?”

One of the Daseohoe members who tried ordering 50 sets and got denied just came back to order another one—again.

It hadn’t even been that long since the last order.

“I already finished it. Just give me another.”

He returned an empty teacup and plate and looked me straight in the eye.

You’re ordering again because bulk isn’t allowed and you just ate as fast as you could, huh?

“Didn’t you hear Manager Kang? If you keep ordering like that...”

“So-so, take his order. He said he finished.”

“Manager Kang?”

Hey, if he finished, then yeah—he can order again.

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

The side story announcement sent second-floor sales into overdrive.

“Ha-yeon unni, more Azure Crimson Sets just came in!”

Thanks to that, the staff barely got a moment’s peace between arriving and lunch. The days were a whirlwind.

“I... the Most Beautiful Courtesan of Hubei... am making Azure Crimson Sets...”

Im Ha-yeon looked like the life was draining from her face.

“Unni?”

“To think I’ve become the flagbearer of evil marketing...”

She’s the same woman who once accused me of being a wicked merchant.

Now she’s personally assembling the pinnacle of that wicked marketing. Must be a strange feeling.

“If you don’t want to, just say so. I’ll do it.”

With penalty points, of course. I said it while ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) chuckling at her funny expression.

“Out of the way. If you do it, the tea ends up crying!”

Ooh. Skilled hands.

She’s like that coworker who complains every day about wanting to quit but still handles every task flawlessly. The kind of person whose time spent at the company exactly matches the number of times they’ve vowed to resign.

“I’m done. Hurry and take it.”

“Unni! Another one just came in!”

“Uugh! Why do the orders never stop?!”

“The Daseohoe folks are too busy fighting the main wife war to sip the tea—they’re practically inhaling it!”

“Our Azure Crimson Faction won’t rest until we’ve passed the 正 mark on the tracking board!”

“Of course!”

“Uuugh!”

Even through Im Ha-yeon’s groans of pain, Daseogak’s revenue kept climbing sky-high.

Storm of the Tang Clan sales, second-floor tea set revenue, plus an influx of new customers boosting book sales—every line in the ledger was breaking records.

Just as we were about to detach Booster 1 and activate Booster 2—

“Manager!!! Emergency!!!”

“What’s going on?”

“The printing press exploded!!!”

The booster just blew up.

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

“It’s about time this thing kicked the bucket.”

The elderly printing press master, whom I’d often asked for help, delivered the terminal diagnosis in his usual chilly tone.

“Is it beyond repair?”

“The press is too old. There aren’t any compatible parts left. I’ve patched it up for now, but it won’t last long.”

“Is there no way to get replacement parts?”

“Not here in Yichang. Maybe if you reach out to Wuchang, you might get lucky. If things go well, maybe a month.”

“A whole month?”

“You’ve kept it in great shape—that’s the only reason it lasted this long. There’s nothing older than this thing in all of Yichang.”

“I’ve oiled it every day and cleaned it carefully.”

Like someone tending to their first car, I’d managed that press obsessively, terrified it would break down. And now, it’s broken.

“I can tell at a glance. And even if you do get parts in a month, it’s still a problem. It’s too damn old. Even if you fix this, something else will break. And that next part? You might never find it, not even in six months.”

“There’s really no other way?”

I pressed him. The old master looked at the press and muttered:

“You bastard. You were around even when I was still learning this trade! Looks like you’ll be working until I die! One of these clueless kids’ll try fixing you over and over, and when there’s no hope left, they’ll curse you and toss you out!”

Just say I should buy a new one, sir.

“How much would a new one cost?”

“If I built it from scratch, I could get you a better deal—but it’d take forever. Ordering one from Wuchang isn’t easy either. Something like this.”

“Guh.”

I had to double-check the number of zeros on that price tag.

“Or—since you’re a regular—I’ll tell you something useful.”

“What is it, sir?”

I asked with the humility of a noob gamer begging an old veteran for tips—he may be cranky, but he always came through.

“In a few days, the government office will be auctioning off their used printing press. If you can win the bid, you’ll get a good-quality press at a decent price.”

Of course. An insider tip from the master who even services the government’s presses.

Seems like the fastest and most cost-effective solution to get a new press. But... it’s still a hell of a price.

With all my debts and upcoming expenses, I couldn’t just say yes on the spot.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you. Here’s the repair fee.”

“Forget it. I’m not taking it.”

He waved off the envelope I offered.

Damn. Did seeing the dying press put him in such a mood he’s refusing payment out of sympathy? This is why being a regular customer pays off.

“I can’t just have a master do work for free.”

Accepting free service would crush my reputation. I said it again, planning to shove the money into his pocket if he refused once more.

“Who said I’m not taking payment?”

“...What?”

“Pay me in books. Storm of the Tang Clan, full set. My grandson won’t shut up about it.”

Forgive me, but... how old is your grandson, exactly?

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

Life just loves to uppercut you the moment you try to relax.

“Parts for a fifty-year-old press? Not a chance around here.”

“Trying to print Storm of the Tang Clan again? One press isn’t enough, is it? How about you let us sell it at our store too? We’ll pay per volume.”

“Unless you’re ready to give up exclusive rights to Volume 3, I doubt anyone’ll accept your printing job. Everyone knows your press is down—who’s gonna miss this opportunity?”

It’s a brutal world out there. One man’s misfortune is another’s golden ticket.

I visited every shop and contact I had, but there was no easy fix.

I can’t give up the exclusive publishing rights to Storm of the Tang Clan.

I fought tooth and nail to secure that exclusivity. Even if people don’t openly ignore the Merchant’s Way anymore, they’re all still eyeing my license like vultures.

If I want to keep exclusive rights and continue printing, I need to reduce print time. But given the daily demand, it’s not like I can just lower the volume.

Buying a new press really is the best solution. But a printing press is an asset—it makes money.

The cost, though... It made everything I’d earned so far feel like pocket change.

I’d planned to pay off debts with what I saved, and now I’m facing a massive expense instead.

“None of the choices are easy.”

Waiting for parts and scraping by with repairs... or coughing up a fortune for a new press.

“Why do you look like the world’s about to end? Things go bad while you were out?”

As evening approached, just before closing time, Im Ha-yeon asked me with a frown on her face.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

A worker shouldn’t have to carry the boss’s burdens. I relaxed my expression as I replied.

“Wha—who said I was worried about you?! Here, have some coffee and snacks. Something sweet will help perk you up.”

Im Ha-yeon, clearly annoyed, pursed her lips but still brought me coffee and sweets with practiced hands.

Maybe she’s finally warming up to me. At first, she wanted to tear me apart. Now she’s bringing me treats?

“Thanks.”

“Just take it already.”

I nodded, took the coffee, and felt the caffeine seep into my brain. Ah, the sacred potion of the working class.

As I drank, Ha-yeon walked to the side chalkboard and scribbled something down.

[Hyang-ah Coffee Set. Du Eung-hyang: 正.]

“It wasn’t free?”

“Every vote counts right now.”

You counted what I drank as a vote?! Give me back my moment of heartfelt gratitude.

“I left your dinner in the usual spot.”

“If it’s a burden, you don’t have to...”

She looked uneasy as she spoke.

“What’s with that all of a sudden?”

“You’re going to need a new printing press, right?”

“Forget it. It’s not like saving on dinner costs will get me there any faster—wait.”

A sudden thought struck me.

“What is it?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m heading upstairs.”

I left Im Ha-yeon staring after me in confusion as I climbed to the attic.

I wasn’t thinking clearly.

Even if the world I live in has changed, the way I think hasn’t. Not really.

If I get into debt, I repay it monthly. Clear it little by little.

Even if it’s a thirty-five-year loan on a red-roofed two-story house, if I pay it off diligently, one day it becomes mine—and part of a stable life.

I was getting too comfortable.

A beggar. A storyteller. A fledgling author. These past two years, I’ve been dancing on the edge of death.

Now that I’ve finally found a bit of breathing room, I started thinking too safely.

Pay off my debts first and then move?

At this rate, when?

Even now, my heroines are out there, fighting against fate.

“I have to keep moving.”

I haven’t reached a safe cruising altitude—I’ve only just finished prepping on the runway.

So what do I need to do now?

“I’m expanding the business.”