The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 261: Guild Head - 1

There’s no worse job in wuxia than being the owner of an inn.

When a wandering protagonist arrives in a new village, where do you think he goes first? The inn, of course—where he can eat and find lodging.

And just as he’s trying to enjoy a quiet meal, some late-stage third-rate martial artist with no sense of his own weight comes over and picks a fight. Then the protagonist, who acts like everything is a hassle, delivers such a thorough beatdown that no one would ever dare to retaliate.

If a beautiful woman with a nickname like ‘Flame’ or ‘Phoenix’ happens to witness the scene and takes interest, boom—your typical wuxia story is off and running.

And even if it’s not the protagonist, it doesn’t matter. In Joseon, they say not even dogs are disturbed while eating, but in the martial world? It’s open season during meals—anyone and everyone gets messed with.

Because meals are when people let their guard down, they get attacked. Or maybe a drunkard starts a brawl after downing one too many drinks at the inn.

Whatever the cause, the result is always the same—yet another ruined inn.

It’s rare for a martial artist to toss compensation toward the weeping innkeeper. Most of them don’t care if they trash someone else’s property—empathy isn’t exactly their strong suit.

So, the innkeeper is left to patch up broken furniture and shattered dishes yet again and try to keep the business going. And yet, inns still thrive. Why?

Because inns make good money.

“You really plan to run this inn?”

“You already signed and stamped the contract. Are you worried now?”

I said, glancing at the seal pressed onto the inn’s sales contract.

“Haa... The inn’s in a residential area, so you can at least keep food on the table. It was livable—before the martial artists started acting out. But your clientele’s gonna be martial artists. If they keep showing up, there’s nothing we can do.”

The innkeeper, Mr. Ahn, looked at me with the guilty expression of someone who just offloaded a defective used item.

“Don’t worry too much, Brother Ahn Tae-won. I’ll manage it well.”

I had my reasons.

“You’ve done business in Yichang, so I’ll trust you with it... Oh, right. I prepared what you asked for.”

“Thanks for going through the trouble.”

“Don’t mention it. Honestly, I feel like I’ve thrown off a heavy burden. It’s a relief.”

Ahn Tae-won gave me a bitter smile. More than guilt over selling me a problem-laden inn, he probably just wanted to cut ties as fast as possible.

Of course, I didn’t buy this problematic inn for no reason.

Before starting business in Wuchang, I needed to lay the groundwork. And most important of all? Connections.

In this world, connections mean school ties and blood ties. There’s a reason people say having the surname Jeongal in Wuchang means you’re already halfway there.

But what about someone without that surname?

You become a lay disciple of the strongest sect in Hubei—Wudang Sect—or join a faction founded by a Wudang lay disciple. That way, you can build school ties.

There’s a reason it costs a fortune to become a lay disciple of the Nine Sects.

For a foreigner like me, with neither blood ties nor school ties, trying to do business in Wuchang is bound to bring trouble. No school ties. No family ties.

Who would hesitate to crush me in business if it costs them nothing? There’d be no reason to hold back. So, what about someone like me, with neither?

Actually, Wuchang still offered one viable path.

“Brother, we’re here!”

“You’re opening? Didn’t that already happen a while ago?”

“Mr. Tae-won! Give us some food!”

A dozen or so Joseon people came bursting through the inn’s doors.

“I sold the inn.”

Ahn Tae-won casually broke the news to the arriving crowd.

“Huh?”

“Brother! What are you talking about?”

The startled Joseon folks rushed toward him, eyes wide.

“I’m better off going back to being a cook. Running an inn is just too much for me. Business is brutal.” 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

“Still, Brother, aren’t you the guild head of the Joseon Association here in Wuchang? If you don’t lead, who will keep our community together?”

“The new guild head of the Joseon Association is this guy.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kang Yun-ho.”

Geographic ties—following school ties and blood ties. That was the connection I would use.

First, I presented myself as a fellow native of Namwon to win Ahn Tae-won’s favor. Then, I bought the inn that no one else would touch, earning his trust—and inherited his position.

Just like that, I placed myself at the center of the Joseon community’s network in Wuchang.

“What the hell? Brother? That kid barely looks of age, and now he’s guild head?”

“You’re saying some brat none of us has even seen before is the new guild head? Brother, did you start drinking early today?”

“Who the hell does this guy think he is? You think our Joseon Association, bound by brotherhood and loyalty, is some kind of joke?”

Of course they'd frown. It’s only natural when some random guy suddenly appears claiming to be guild head.

Especially since most of the people here were in their 30s or 40s, hardened by a life of backbreaking labor. Meanwhile, I was a 22-year-old who probably looked like a pampered scholar.

But there’s a way around that, too.

I gave Ahn Tae-won a silent nod, then straightened my back with pride to receive his formal introduction again.

“Kang Yun-ho is the one who bought this inn. From now on, he’s my boss too.”

““““Guild Head! We look forward to your leadership!””””

Yes. I look forward to it as well.

Even if I claimed I wasn’t Joseon but from some ninja village in the East where village chiefs rotate weekly, they’d probably believe me now.

“Just one look, and I could tell! That aura—he’s destined to be guild head!”

“Congratulations on your appointment, Guild Head Kang Yun-ho!”

“Please guide us and keep us in line. I didn’t bring a gift for your appointment, so...”

“Just seeing the faces of our fellow Joseon people here in Wuchang is a gift to me. We’ve prepared celebratory noodles for everyone. Please enjoy.”

“Thank you!”

Most of the Joseon people in Wuchang are laborers living on the edge—no different from how I was just two years ago.

So when someone who can be a financial backer says he’s willing to lead as guild head, who would stop him?

As I continued to wait in the inn, more and more Joseon people showed up in response to Ahn Tae-won’s call.

“Damn, this broth’s legit! It’s proper anchovy-based soup!”

“Say what you want, but Brother’s always been a good cook.”

It wasn’t hard to gather the Joseon folk in Wuchang. They’re all struggling, so if you offer them a free hearty meal, who’s going to say no?

“Kang, my younger brother! No—Guild Head Kang! Come here! I’ve got someone to introduce!”

When someone hands you celebratory noodles, it’s customary to thank the host.

And with word spreading that the new guild head’s well off and might be able to offer help, people began lining up to make themselves known.

At this rate, I might end up meeting every Joseon person in Wuchang.

“Guild Head Ahn!”

Three big guys? Just as I was settling into my new role, three towering brutes—each looking twice the size of a normal man—showed up.

“There you are. Come say hi. This is the new guild head of the Joseon Association, Guild Head Kang. Kang, these three are the sons of a man who always said another mouth had been added to the household—Choi Il-gu, Lee-gu, and Sam-gu. The brothers.”

“I’m Kang Yun-ho.”

“...Brother Ahn. I’m so sorry you had to go through this because of us.”

Oh? They’re ignoring me?

The three brothers didn’t even glance at me. Instead, they bowed deeply toward Ahn Tae-won, looking completely ashamed.

Clearly troubled, Ahn Tae-won let out a bitter laugh and began explaining the situation.

“These three work at the dockyards, unloading ships. But they’re under the thumb of two shady underworld gangs—the Black Labor Faction and the Red Line Faction.”

“Brother! ‘Under the thumb’ is harsh! We just help them out a little in exchange for some money!”

The three brothers protested like they were the ones wronged by the world.

“That’s exactly it! These guys just had to bring both gangs here at the same time, and of course a fight broke out.”

So that’s how it all started.

“You’re telling me thugs from the underworld are running wild here in Wuchang, territory of the Wudang Sect and the Jeongal Family?”

“There’s always a part that slips through the cracks. Their numbers aren’t that large anyway. These days, they’ve been killing each other—there might be ten left. All for a minor turf claim, and they don’t even hesitate to kill for it.”

So I wasn’t caught in a clash of giants, but in a small-fry fight that still managed to crush me like a shrimp between whales. Ahn Tae-won added bitterly:

“If it weren’t for this mess, Brother Ahn would’ve never handed over the inn or the leadership of the Joseon Association.”

The eldest, called Choi Il-gu, looked at me coldly as he spoke.

“Il-gu!”

“So you’re finally looking at me. Allow me to introduce myself again. I’m Kang Yun-ho.”

And what if you glare? I held out my hand to Choi Il-gu with a polite business smile.

“Hah!”

Choi Il-gu scoffed, then seized my hand with a massive grip like a pot lid.

Has he trained in martial arts? His grip strength isn’t normal.

Ordinary people would have turned red in the face and begged him to let go with that kind of pressure.

But here’s the thing: the martial art you learned? The one I learned is a tier above it.

“Aaaaaaaaargh!”

It was Choi Il-gu who screamed.

“Brother!”

“Brother!”

“...Ugh. Have you trained in martial arts?”

Choi Il-gu clutched his reddened hand, struggling to keep his face from crumpling as he asked.

“I happened to learn a thing or two.”

“That’s not just a thing or two.”

Look at that—hanging around with thugs, but the moment he’s overpowered, his tone changes completely.

“Do I seem a bit more credible as guild head now?”

“......”

“Since I’ve taken over as the new guild head of the Wuchang Joseon Association, I was thinking of helping out with the community’s problems. Anything I can do for you?”

“Are you saying... you’ll take care of the thugs?”

“If you ask sincerely. I might step in.”

I spoke casually, like it was no big deal.

“...Please. If you truly take care of them, I’ll serve you forever—not just as Brother, but as our guild head!”

“Do you have any idea how those bastards have been tormenting Joseon people? Please, I beg you!”

Good. Looks like I’ll have to make a strong impression to celebrate my inauguration.

************

“Where the hell have those damn barbarians gone lately?”

The boss of the Black Labor Faction, a small thug gang in Wuchang’s docks made up of barely a dozen members, asked his underling about the sudden disappearance of the Joseon workers.

“They say we’ve been taking too much commission lately, so they’ve started going to the Red Line Faction instead.”

“Damn # Nоvеlight # those black-haired barbarian bastards! Even beasts understand gratitude—treat them a little well and they don’t know their place.”

“Beasts are meant to be tamed with a stick, aren’t they? Next time, I’ll give those barbarians a proper beating and teach them a lesson!”

“If they resist, it’s fine to kill a few.”

“Of course.”

The underling of the Black Labor Faction nodded, flashing a sly grin.

“Boss! Word is the Red Line Faction guys are waiting at that inn again to ambush our crew.”

“They’re seriously waiting after what happened last time?”

“You know that black-haired brute we pay? I heard him saying he’s bringing everyone this time to get real revenge.”

“Oh yeah? Then today’s the day we end this! Gather the crew!”

A small dockyard turf, insignificant in the grand scheme—but even for minor factions, it wasn’t something they wanted to share.

The fight between the two third-rate gangs—the Black Labor Faction and the Red Line Faction—only intensified.

The boss of the Black Labor Faction led all his members straight to the inn run by the barbarian.

An inn run by a barbarian—what a perfect battleground.

They wouldn’t draw attention by fighting outside, and there’d be no consequences for causing havoc inside either.

Other inns at least had some kind of protection—martial sects, escort bureaus, even merchant guilds. But the barbarian’s inn had no such backing.

The Black Labor Faction boss figured this was the perfect chance to not only wipe out the Red Line Faction but to also take over the barbarian’s inn while he was at it.

“Red Line bastards, you hiding in here?”

Wary of being stabbed the moment he stepped inside, the boss had his underling open the door, then walked into the inn.

Inside, there were no one but Red Line Faction thugs.

“You scum! You wait for us here after running with your tails tucked last time!”

“We called you?”

We came because we heard you were waiting. Just as doubt flickered through the Black Labor boss’s mind—

A voice rang out from above.

“Il-gu! Close the door!”

“Yes!”

In an instant, every exit of the inn and the stairs to the second floor were sealed.

“What the hell?!”

A trap? Was it a setup by the other gang? But they looked just as confused. Then who...?

The identity of the one who laid the trap was easy to spot.

“IIIIIIIT’S TIIIIIIIME!”

A meaningless but thunderous shout echoed through the entire inn as a young man appeared on the third floor.

“Woooooooooooooo!”

At the same time, Joseon people filled the second and third floors of the inn. Its layout was a classic open-centered structure.

In an instant, the Joseon crowd on the upper floors formed a ring above the thugs, looking down on the underworld scum that had been tormenting them.

“W-why are the barbarians here?!”

“What the hell is going on?!”

“Thank you all for waiting! From this moment on! With the thunderous cheers and wild cries of our Joseon brothers filling this inn! The life-or-death showdown between the two factions begins nowwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”

An inn with all exits sealed.

A place they thought was perfect for wrecking and rampaging.

Today, under one man’s scheme, it became their death pit—a Royal Rumble where only one would walk out alive.