The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 271: Fake - 2

A World Without Copyrights.

Even the author of Don Quixote, now hailed as a literary classic, struggled with illegal copies and derivative works—proof that copyright has long been a headache for authors and publishers alike.

“Where did you get this?”

I took Storm of the Tang Clan from Im Ha-yeon and skimmed through it. It wasn’t a fanfic with the same title.

It was exactly the same Storm of the Tang Clan I was publishing through Daseogak—now being sold by another bookstore.

“I caught one of the shopboys reading it when he should’ve been working. I also heard news about Writer Ho-pil.”

“Let’s go downstairs.”

On the first floor, the flustered shopboy stood frozen.

“Sir! I was just reading during a short break—I swear I wasn’t slacking off!”

Like a kid who just got caught hiding a forbidden folder from his mom, the boy stammered through an excuse that didn’t even make sense.

“I’m not here to scold you. Just tell me—where did you get that copy of Storm of the Tang Clan?”

“There was a bookstore shouting that they’d recruited someone named Ho-pil as their author. It looked popular, and people were saying it was a great read, so I picked one up.”

“Did Writer Ho-pil really go to another bookstore?”

Im Ha-yeon asked nervously.

“Which bookstore was it?”

In this world, bookstores sponsor authors and claim exclusive publishing rights under the so-called Merchant’s Way. The only place where I can assert publishing rights for Storm of the Tang Clan is Yichang.

Even now, copies might be getting printed in another city. I can’t legally stop it. But here—this is Wuchang, where the Guild Leader of Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild resides.

Who’s the crazy bastard selling Storm of the Tang Clan without permission?

And even impersonating Ho-pil to do it?

“It had the word ‘Manggeum’ written on it. I’m sure of it.”

The shopboy searched his memory and finally gave the source.

Manggeum?

Manggeum Bookstore?

“Jeon Gil-san... That bastard actually crossed the line!!”

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

“How could a person do this?!”

“Exactly! I only charged him a franchise fee, a homing pigeon lease, labor referral fee, materials, marketing, and some minor costs!”

I made sure he’d pass the Guild Leader’s trial—and I even guaranteed profits!

And this is how he repays me? Violating the Merchant’s Way? Then why even start a business?

Fuming with rage, Im Ha-yeon and I stormed toward Jeon Gil-san’s shop.

“Jeon Gil-saaaan!!”

I kicked the door to his office open like I was about to flatten someone.

“I was just about to go see you. Perfect timing.”

This guy had the nerve to act calm. As if he knew I’d come, Jeon Gil-san rose from his seat with a composed expression.

“I went out of my way to help you—and you crossed the line?!”

As of today, your business is over. I’m confiscating your spirit-trained homing pigeons, you punk.

“You came because of Storm of the Tang Clan, right? That wasn’t me.”

“...Huh?”

He was holding a copy printed by a different bookstore.

“I might be a freeloader, but I’m still a bookstore freeloader. I’m not rotten enough to break the Merchant’s Way.”

“For someone who says that, there sure are a lot of suspicious coincidences.”

Between what I’ve been through and what I heard from the Hao Clan, it wasn’t just once or twice. Who are you trying to fool?

“I—I would never do something that would make my grandfather look bad!”

As I narrowed my eyes, Jeon Gil-san faltered and tried to defend himself awkwardly.

Yeah, that’s more believable for you than some speech about ethics.

“They say a bookstore labeled Manggeum is selling Storm of the Tang Clan. If not you, then who?”

If it’s not Jeon Gil-san, then who is it?

“My maternal cousin. His name’s Heo Song.”

The name of the culprit finally slipped out of Jeon Gil-san’s mouth.

“Your cousin... You mean the Guild Leader’s grandson?”

“Yeah. He recently opened a bookstore and slapped ‘Manggeum’ on the sign. He wanted the clout of the name, but claims it’s fine because it’s not technically called ‘Manggeum Bookstore.’”

Jeon Gil-san ground his teeth, saying that if Heo Song weren’t his cousin, he would’ve already beaten him to a pulp.

“So Heo Song started selling Storm of the Tang Clan to pass the succession exam? And he even brought in a fake Ho-pil?”

What is this, a knockoff fried chicken shop using a luxury brand name?

No—it’s worse. This is a fake-label operation in the same industry.

Impersonating the author and hijacking the trademark? This was textbook fraud.

“So it really was a fake Ho-pil, huh? Come. Take me to him. I want to see this impostor.”

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

“One copy per person for Storm of the Tang Clan!”

“Out of the way! I’m buying it first!”

“Is ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) this book really that good?!”

“My friend in Yichang can’t stop raving about it!”

Books I wrote, printed and distributed by others, selling like hotcakes outside my reach—it wasn’t something I could stop. But watching someone else get fat off what should be my work? That made my insides twist.

“Well, look who it is. The one and only Jeon Gil-san.”

While I stood dumbfounded at the sight of my book being sold under someone else’s name, a youth who resembled Jeon Gil-san—only sleazier—approached us.

“Heo Song!”

“Came to check out how good my sales are, huh? Even if your little delivery food stunt is working, it’ll never match my Manggeum Archive’s Storm of the Tang Clan.”

“Using the Manggeum name like it’s yours? You’ve got some nerve!”

So much for family warmth. Watching them bicker, I was starting to think this confrontation was happening in some alley, not in front of a bookstore.

“Hah! It’s Manggeum Archive, not Manggeum Bookstore. You really have become a petty barbarian—hanging around with black-haired savages, nitpicking every little thing.”

This so-called "Manggeum Archive" owner sneered at both me and Jeon Gil-san.

“Barbarian? Ha ha ha!”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Greetings. I’m Kang Yun-ho of Daseogak.”

I bowed politely toward the fake with a puzzled look on his face.

“Wait—Daseogak? From Yichang? That Kang Yun-ho?!”

A flash of panic passed across Heo Song’s face.

“So this is where Daseogak’s Storm of the Tang Clan is selling so well.”

Selling my book without permission, huh? I deliberately emphasized Daseogak.

Heo Song looked at me, then straightened his expression back into the same sneering smirk as before.

“This isn’t Daseogak’s. It’s Manggeum Archive’s Storm of the Tang Clan. What, is a Yichang brat trying to impose the Merchant’s Way outside the city? How shameless—especially for a barbarian.”

This bastard, already talking down to me like it’s second nature.

As annoying as it was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I could only claim publishing rights within Yichang. Outside of it—even if someone else was printing Storm of the Tang Clan—I had no legal claim.

“I may not be able to assert rights outside Yichang... but this is Wuchang. I can assert them here.”

You think your grandfather’s going to let you off scot-free?

But even at that, his expression didn’t change. What is he plotting?

“Isn’t Daseogak already my grandfather’s property?”

He was poking right at Daseogak’s weak point.

“It hasn’t been handed over to the Ten-Thousand Gold Merchant Guild yet. I’m still the one running it.”

“Doesn’t matter who the captain is—you should be asking who owns the ship. The only reason you’re at the helm is because of my grandfather’s generosity.”

So who owns Daseogak now?

Given that I accepted the Guild Leader’s test, the ownership leaned more toward him as the creditor than me.

“You really think the Guild Leader would agree with you?”

“If the legal claim is unclear, then all you need is a better justification. We took in a displaced Writer Ho-pil. Grandfather will surely approve.”

Oh really? Then who the hell is the Ho-pil you took in?

I never got any of your “VIP service.”

I think I’ve got the picture now.

Storm of the Tang Clan is already a verified hit in Yichang. They’re using that success to justify bringing in a fake Ho-pil and selling the novel to pass the succession exam.

Then all I have to do is destroy their justification.

“Let me see the face of this Writer Ho-pil. I was just in touch with him not long ago. I find it hard to believe he’d come to Manggeum Archive without saying a word.”

Let’s expose this fraud right now.

“Ahem. Writer Ho-pil is not accepting visitors at the moment.”

A flicker of anxiety crossed Heo Song’s face.

“I’m his closest friend—his makyeokjiu.”

Looks like you picked up that term from one of my performances.

Too bad it’s not something you say lightly.

“It’s because of you that he was emotionally wounded. Combined with travel fatigue, he’s now bedridden.”

What a lie. His voice had gone shrill. His poker face was gone. He was clearly stalling.

“What kind of nonsense is this? Sounds like you’re just making excuses not to show him.”

I shot a look to Jeon Gil-san, signaling him to chime in.

“What are you hiding, that you won’t even show us Writer Ho-pil?!”

“Hah! I knew you’d say that. I came prepared. Wait right there—I’ll show you definitive proof!”

Proof? That they have Writer Ho-pil?

As if such a thing could possibly exist.

Heo Song ducked into the store and came out holding something in his hands.

“Look!”

“Wha—?!”

“Hngh!”

“What the—?!”

What Heo Song produced...

His so-called proof that Writer Ho-pil was cooperating with Manggeum Archive...

Was this:

[This is Ho-pil....]

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

“I can’t believe I fell for a ‘This is Ho-pil...’.”

I had no choice but to return to my office.

Because even I had to admit—the content written there was... convincing.

I buried my head in my arms on the desk, clutching at my hair.

“Could it really be that Writer Ho-pil abandoned you?”

Jeon Gil-san looked at me with suspicion, as if all this was entirely my fault.

“I mean, I get where he’s coming from. Every time something goes wrong at Daseogak, everyone just tells him to post a ‘This is Ho-pil...’ message. Of course he’d get fed up.”

Im Ha-yeon sighed softly and brought up the content from the recent This is Ho-pil... message.

“No... that was me.”

I wrote that.

“I’ve heard of how infamous those posts are. You sure haven’t overused them?”

“She’s right. You keep locking the store and protesting whenever things go wrong. That might be fine for you as the owner, but Writer Ho-pil loses sales every time.”

“There was even a part in there saying he was furious about Storm of the Tang Clan being used for unethical marketing. Honestly, if he moved to another store, I can understand.”

“People in other cities were talking about your ruthless business tactics, you know? If he weren’t your best friend, he probably would’ve cut ties ages ago. Actually, maybe that’s exactly what’s happening.”

“That’s nonsense. It’s obviously fake.”

That guy—he’s my closest friend. The one who knows all my darkest, most embarrassing moments.

“If you say so...”

Even Im Ha-yeon looked at me with a hint of doubt in her eyes. Why are you looking at me like that too?

“If you find out that guy’s a fake, tell me. That bastard Heo Song’s already being talked about at Manggeum Bookstore. If he really brought in a fake writer, I’ll crush him—personally.”

Jeon Gil-san spoke like a hyena eyeing easy prey.

“You mean as the Guild Leader’s grandson.”

It’s so obvious—he’s just trying to eliminate another successor candidate. I can see right through it.

“Sure, let’s go with that. I’ll be off.”

Jeon Gil-san smirked and left the office.

A fake Ho-pil?

As a writer, my name is my life. I don’t know who you are, but you’re trying to steal that from me?

What should I do? This is when it’d be best for the Guild Leader to step in and smack some sense into his grandson.

“If you want it settled, either take care of it yourself or get dressed and come to the manor.”

The Guild Leader had heard the news too, and sent word.

“Damn old man.”

I could already picture that smug look on his face as he laughed to himself.

Did he find Lady Zhegall-hyang? So now he’s saying he’ll help me if I agree to the blind date?

“I’ll go.”

Im Ha-yeon had been leaning against the wall, silently watching me, and finally spoke with a resolute tone.

“Go where?”

“If it’s just about confirming whether he’s fake, didn’t Jeon Gil-san say he’d take care of it? I’ll go see if Writer Ho-pil is really there. If he is—then who he really is.”

“You think you can do it?”

“Who do you think I am? Open the window—I’ll be right back.”

“I’m counting on you.”

“...But if he really is the real Writer Ho-pil... never mind. I’ll go.”

Thank you. If you need autographs or anything, I’ll sign a ton later. I kept my mouth shut and let her go.

I hope she finds something. But what if she fails?

I can’t reveal my identity.

We’re outside Yichang—this city offers me no legal protection. Even if I confessed who I was, would they believe me? I’d only end up sabotaging some punk’s business without gaining a single thing.

Worse, if people found out I was the barbarian author, the fallout would be immense.

I won’t just sit back and watch. But if they’re truly hiding the writer, I might be out of options.

After all... I was the one hiding the writer in the first place.

“Whoa—when did you get back?”

Lost in thought, I looked up to find Im Ha-yeon already back.

Fast as always. But... why does her face look so grim?

“...Just now. I think Writer Ho-pil might be kidnapped.”

Her eyes glinted with suspicion as she gave her report.

“What are you talking about?”

“The security was tight. But not like they were guarding from intruders—it was more like they were making sure whoever was inside couldn’t escape.”

“Writer Ho-pil was kidnapped?”

So... not a fake? That just raises more questions.

If I’m right here, then who the hell is that person?

“Manager Kang Yun-ho.”

Click. I heard the sound of the door locking—and her voice sank, unusually calm.

“Huh? Why are you locking the door?”

She only calls me Manager Kang Yun-ho when she’s upset.

Did I overwork her with all this chaos tonight?

“I have a question.”

Im Ha-yeon’s face was shadowed. Did something serious happen?

“Go ahead and ask.”

“...Was Writer Ho-pil... a woman?”