The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 240: Bidding - 3

The Hao Clan was an information sect made up of society’s lowest classes.

People often saw nearby shopkeepers, stable hands, or ferrymen as emotionless NPCs, and carelessly exchanged sensitive information in front of them.

Those working for the Hao Clan would memorize such conversations, then sell the information to the clan in exchange for a few snacks to ease their bleak lives.

That’s also why female entertainers were a staple element of the Hao Clan in martial arts novels.

Truths spilled under drunkenness.

It was common for critical information to leak from the mouth of someone who had lost their self-control from drink.

Even if they resisted the alcohol, the moment they slept with a courtesan—or were about to—their mental defenses would crumble, and they’d spill every last secret.

Even in modern times, it wasn’t for nothing that the workers of nightlife bars near brokerage firms had reputations as stock market elites.

What I needed was the bidding amount for the printing presses of Manggeum Bookstore.

I didn’t need a poison that could turn someone into a puddle of blood or a fan club's rabid loyalty—just one careless word could shift the situation in my favor.

“So you want me to take you to a brothel operated by the Hao Clan, and attach our girls to you?”

In the /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ end, what I chose was another one of my personal connections—Hao Clan.

“Just fill the room with courtesans who are good at extracting information.”

Since they were an intelligence organization, they had to know how to draw out information from others without raising suspicion.

“And why should I go out of my way to do all that for you?”

The branch head stiffened, his voice sharp.

It wasn’t just a matter of selling information or introducing someone. I was asking him to run the whole operation according to my plan.

As a branch head, he might take offense at something like that.

But hey—looks like he forgot something.

“Haven’t you forgotten about a certain debt?”

I casually relaxed my posture and smiled, as if completely unfazed by his intimidation.

“I owe you a debt?”

“I’m talking about the Black Coin. Surely you haven’t already forgotten what happened not long ago?”

He had received a Black Coin and was supposed to give VIP treatment to a special guest—none other than a valued figure of the Tang Clan and the disciple of the Shadowless Phantom Thief.

“Ugh...”

The branch head must’ve remembered. He pressed two fingers to his forehead and let out a groan.

“I didn’t report that incident to the Tang Clan’s martial artists. And when I asked you to save the staff, you didn’t lift a finger.”

I prevented the situation from escalating on my end. You betrayed trust. And for a sect where trust is life, there’s no greater offense.

“N-No, it’s just... the situation was complicated, you know...”

He hadn’t considered this angle, clearly. The branch head fumbled for words, not sure what to do with his hands.

“Then let’s use this opportunity to wipe that small misunderstanding clean.”

I straightened my posture and flicked both hands, acting like it was no big deal.

The branch head looked at me and let out a small sigh before speaking.

“Haah. You really are the disciple of the Shadowless Phantom Thief. Fine! I’ll lend you the manpower. But it won’t be free. That wouldn’t add up.”

“That’s fine. The client’s footing the bill.”

Manggeum Bookstore had more than enough money to spare.

*********

Eat, drink, and be merry.

That was the essence of Jeon Gil-san’s life—one of complete indulgence.

The money pouring endlessly from a never-drying spring satisfied his every desire, and even if he made a mess of things, everything could be smoothed over with cash.

Even when his mother—the daughter of the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild’s head—scolded him for screwing up, he only pretended to reflect for the moment.

Even if the family threatened to cut him off, he just had to act like he was dying, and they’d cave and send him money again.

Thanks to that, Jeon Gil-san grew older but never matured—just a brat doing whatever he pleased.

A life where he could do anything. But this time, things were different.

Gil-san, you must become the heir to the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild. Go to Yichang. Go make something worth bragging about.

Money could buy a comfortable life. More money could buy an even easier one.

The death of his maternal uncle was enough to rouse even the lazy Jeon Gil-san.

The place his parents sent him was Yichang.

Since it was to build his reputation, they gave him an easy job with guaranteed results.

“Since this printing press was used by the Yichang government office, it’s top quality in both condition and output. If we can secure both machines, not just Manggeum Bookstore, but even the Guildmaster himself will hear of it.”

“If push comes to shove, draw your blade. Let’s be sure about this.”

“Yes, Young Master!”

The job went more smoothly than expected. A few bribes to the right officials, a little intimidation toward the competition—that was all it took.

Now, if he could just achieve one more thing, he’d easily surpass his cousins and secure the lead. Jeon Gil-san recalled what his mother had told him before he left Wuchang.

Ho-pil, the author of Storm of the Tang Clan.

Even the veteran clerks at Manggeum Bookstore, with decades of experience, were floored by the novel Storm of the Tang Clan.

Even his parents had said that if he could bring in the author, it would be a huge accomplishment over the other grandsons, no matter the cost.

However, there was one obstacle he had to overcome to make that happen.

“This is the brothel we were introduced to. I hope it suits your taste.”

Jeon Gil-san glanced at the black-haired barbarian, who looked around the unfamiliar brothel with a startled face.

“I didn’t think a backwater like Yichang would have a place this flashy.”

Jeon Gil-san muttered a small note of admiration, then turned his attention back to the black-haired barbarian.

‘To think this bastard was the manager of Daseogak.’

He’d thought he was just some lowborn servant daring to meddle in the affairs of Manggeum Bookstore.

Jeon Gil-san had even considered breaking one of the guy’s legs to teach him a lesson. Who would’ve guessed he was actually the manager of Daseogak?

“Kgh. This wine is bitter.”

“Seems Manager Kang grew up without facing much hardship.”

Jeon Gil-san commented as the wine arrived, watching the black-haired barbarian awkwardly down his drink.

An engagement to the Baek Family’s granddaughter despite being a lowborn barbarian? He had to come from money.

He looked like someone who might be from the same world, and yet also had the face of a naive scholar. Hard to get a read on.

“Haha. Is that how I come across?”

“You see, wine tastes like sweet honey to someone who’s been through as much crap as I have.”

“Haha. Maybe I’ve had too smooth a life to understand a drink like this.”

“What’s the point in hardship anyway? Even someone raised gently can learn the joys of life if he has a good teacher.”

“Then please, teach your junior how to enjoy it tonight.”

To Jeon Gil-san, the black-haired manager looked a little green.

‘If I can just win him over, I’ll get my hands on the author.’

Jeon Gil-san thought as he clinked glasses with Kang Yun-ho.

“About that bid...”

“Why so hasty? We’ve barely shared a few drinks.”

“...I suppose I rushed it.”

Had he bought his position as manager with money? The rejection had come unexpectedly sharp. So—he’s still holding a grudge.

Jeon Gil-san figured a few more rounds of drinks would be enough and kept raising his cup with the black-haired barbarian.

-----------

The black-haired one wasn’t falling so easily.

Jeon Gil-san had already visited the brothel with Kang Yun-ho several times, clinking glasses over and over, yet the distance between them never quite closed, leaving him increasingly impatient.

He needed to arrange a meeting with the author Ho-pil quickly, and yet—why wasn’t this bastard taking the bait?

“Would it kill you to teach me a little?”

“I said no.”

When he arrived at the brothel again, the black-haired man was speaking earnestly to another man.

“You came early. But what’s going on here?”

“Well, while you were away, I heard laughter nonstop from the next room... so I peeked in and saw this going on...”

The black-haired man held something out in his hand for Jeon Gil-san to see.

“Hm? Are those dominoes? You were playing dominoes?”

Dominoes—a form of gambling. Something Jeon Gil-san enjoyed from time to time.

“They looked like they were having fun, so I joined for a bit.”

“You know how to play?”

“Not really... I just kept losing. That’s why I asked this guy to teach me, but he refused.”

The black-haired man lowered his head in embarrassment.

“I’ll have you know, I’m something of a master at dominoes.”

“Seriously?”

“In Wuchang, even the gamblers run off hiding their money when I show up!”

In truth, they scattered because when Jeon Gil-san lost, he threw a tantrum—and since Manggeum Bookstore always covered for him, everyone just avoided him out of disgust.

“Haha. Looks like I begged the wrong guy. Would you teach me a round or two?”

“Hmmm. Fine! I’ll show you how it’s done.”

This was his chance to win over the black-haired manager. Jeon Gil-san leapt into the gambling table alongside Kang Yun-ho like some dashing swordsman.

“What the—how did you pull that hand?!”

“You’re amazing, big bro!”

“Did you just call me ‘big bro’?!”

“Yes, big bro! I’m learning so much thanks to you!”

“Hahaha! So you’re finally opening your heart to me.”

Win, win, win again. With every victory, the distance between him and Kang Yun-ho narrowed, and Jeon Gil-san grew increasingly elated.

Even though he lost one final match and all his previous wins lost their luster, Jeon Gil-san didn’t care in the slightest.

-----------

“Aren’t you spending your entire day at the brothel lately?”

The man acting as Jeon Gil-san’s assistant asked in a worried tone.

“It’s all business! Business! Do you have any idea how hard I’m working to recruit Ho-pil?!”

“...If you say so...”

Wine, gambling, courtesans—despite being in Yichang, Jeon Gil-san felt like he was back home.

And on top of recruiting Ho-pil, a very enticing idea had started to circulate.

“If you think about it, if Ho-pil goes to Manggeum Bookstore, it’ll destabilize Daseogak’s finances. So I’ve come up with a solution.”

“What solution?”

“Why don’t we just acquire Daseogak?”

“Acquire... Daseogak?”

“There’ve been plenty of issues caused by Daseogak for Manggeum Bookstore, haven’t there? If you spend a little to buy them out, you’d accomplish something no one else in the guild ever has.”

“Could that even work?”

“Who am I? I’m the manager of Daseogak, remember? Of course, it’d be a problem if you tried to buy Daseogak without me...”

“What?! You think I’d throw you away?!”

“Hahaha. Of course not. Still, we’ll need to discuss this more with the Daseogak staff. For now—how about a drink?”

“Absolutely. If you’re on board, I’ll treat you like my own little brother! Hey! Bring in the girls!”

At his word, a group of beautiful courtesans gathered around.

“Sir, are you really here to bring in Ho-pil? That’s going to cost a lot of money.”

“I came here to bring in that amazing Ho-pil.”

“Then that must mean you’re even more amazing than Ho-pil, right?”

“Heh. Damn, so Yichang was hiding a little enchantress like you, huh?”

“Enchanted, am I? You flatter me, sir~”

Wine, gambling, women. This was just like being home. And now, on top of achieving his original goal, he could also earn an even greater accomplishment.

That black-haired barbarian he thought would be so difficult? He’d warmed him up with charm and skill—and now the guy was even calling him big bro.

Soon, he’d meet Ho-pil. And if things went well, he might even swallow up Daseogak whole.

Everyone was smiling at him. He could already see himself becoming the next master of the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild. Jeon Gil-san sipped his wine, drunk on the illusion of inevitable success.

He smiled drunkenly at all the people smiling back at him—completely unaware of the schemes hidden behind their laughter.