The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel - Chapter 102: Okcheon Express Agency (4)

The Tale of Hong Gildong.

It’s the story of Hong Gildong, born as an illegitimate child, unable to call his father “father” and his brother “brother”. He left the world to learn sorcery and created numerous “bros”, causing his parents to sigh deeply with a story of utmost unfilial conduct (BRO-MAXIMUM).

For hundreds of years, the story of a hero loved by the masses had been a subject that bandits could emotionally invest in, truly a tale suitable to be told in front of the Black Tiger Gang.

I surveyed the banquet hall, where everyone had a drink in hand, excited yet distracted.

“What does this barbarian think he’s doing, giving a speech?”

“The Tale of Hong Gildong? What’s that? Just bring some liquor!”

While some bandits looked forward to my story, others doubted how well a barbarian like me could perform, laughing and chatting among themselves without paying me any mind.

“I must grab their attention right from the start.”

Starting with self-deprecating talk of familial relations and heavy topics could lose their attention or even completely sever their interest.

“Long ago in Joseon, there was a famous minister by the surname Hong who had two sons. One was born to his legal wife, and the other to a lowly concubine! But, there’s a huge secret with the son from this concubine, you know?”

The beginning sparked curiosity.

Unlike the novel-centric Prince Hamurin, I started the story in a fun, engaging tone.

“Isn’t that the minister’s son?”

“That brat thinks just like himself.”

Piquing their curiosity from the start, a few of the previously uninterested bandits began turning their heads this way.

After looking around, I feigned surprise like Minister Hong.

“The sky roared with thunder and fierce winds as a blue dragon sliced through the clouds to appear! Shocked, I looked up, and the dragon was flying towards me! Startled, I woke up, thinking it was a dream. It felt so real!”

“If a dragon appears in a dream, it’s no ordinary event.”

“Isn’t that just a silly dream?”

“That’s why you’re clueless.”

“Aha! The dragon entered me! Surely, I will have a noble child! Wife, are you in the room?”

“No! My husband comes in the middle of the night, suddenly appearing! What are you doing now! At least set the mood! Trying to pounce on your wife! Even a beast wouldn’t do this! Get out!”

From curiosity to a story about the bedroom.

Adding comedy kept the atmosphere lively while shifting the audience’s focus to the story.

“Hehe. The importance of setting the mood is the same here as in Joseon.”

“These crazy women always do that. They just need a good beating.”

“Hehe. So you need to use tools since a stick in the middle isn’t enough for you?”

“That stick isn’t a stick but a twig, haha.”

“You guys… Just listen to the story!”

The bandit, criticized for the size of his “stick,” couldn’t deny it and blushed, shouting angrily.

“Minister Hong is within me, and my blue dragon is also stirring! My wife refuses me, leaving me in despair, then a lowly female servant comes forward, looking worried, and asks, ‘Minister, is something the matter?’”

“Hehe. I can see where this is going.”

I opened my mouth like when I was the youngest storyteller among construction workers, with a mischievous expression and a blatantly suggestive tone.

“Minister Hong took a careful look at this concubine! Her skin was even whiter than that of noble ladies. Her face was beautiful. She was much younger than his wife. And as she bowed before Minister Hong, her top slightly lifted, revealing inside. Wow… there were two full moons inside. Could any nobleman or minister resist?”

Indeed, a risqué joke was the best for keeping the uncles’ attention.

“Hehehehe. Impossible to resist.”

“If he resisted, he wouldn’t be a minister but should be castrated instead.”

Seeing their focus increase with the risqué story.

The bandits set aside their drinks and food, each wearing a sly smile, as if they could already predict what was about to unfold.

Thanks to that, every bandit was now fully engrossed in the story.

“Then, as the affair unfolded, a child imbued with the energy of a dragon was born! That child is none other than our protagonist, Hong Gildong.”

I began with a risqué joke to capture the bandits’ attention, then delved into the extraordinary circumstances of Hong Gildong’s birth, his talents, and the discrimination he faced as an illegitimate child, using dialogue and commentary to illustrate my points.

“I, born of low status, cannot emulate Kongming! Even if I master military strategy, I cannot make significant contributions to the country! Unable to call my father ‘father’ and my brother ‘brother’! How can this not be a cause for sorrow?”

I voiced Hong Gildong’s despair, highlighting how his talents were stifled by the barrier of his low birth status, which thwarted his aspirations.

“I kinda understand that feeling. My father always favored my elder brother because he was the firstborn.”

“Me too. I was a servant’s son, yet praised more than that brat or piglet of the house for being smarter. But in the end, it was that brat who inherited everything.”

“Damn, being born low, I was despised so much. Don’t even mention it. It just brings back painful memories.”

Every bandit had a tale to tell, be it of favoritism, discrimination, or scorn.

As Gildong’s lamentation struck a chord with the bandits, the chaotic atmosphere dissipated, and they all became keen to see what Hong Gildong would do next.

“Hong Gildong, who mastered sorcery and ventured into the world! But could Gildong become an official with his status? A military officer? Or a merchant without a penny? Hong Gildong ends up in the same predicament as you brothers here.”

Let’s draw them in once more.

“In the same predicament as us?”

“Brothers! Since you were born, did anyone think they had to kill people and steal money to survive? If so, raise your hand.”

I raised my hand, asking if anyone who was born a villain would raise theirs.

“……”

Of course, there wouldn’t be any. I nodded as if I had anticipated this response and continued.

“Why are you brothers here? Because of this dirty! Petty! World! Didn’t it turn you into the likes of Hong! Gil! Dong!”

“That’s right!”

“Who wanted to be a bandit since birth!”

“I’m Hong Gildong…….”

Good. I could hear their immersion increasing.

“Hong Gildong, like you brothers, decided to become a bandit. He went to a stronghold where all the bandit leaders of Joseon were gathered and boldly told them, ‘You are now my subordinates.’”

“That’s crazy.”

“It’s over already?”

“Idiot. What did Hong Gildong learn that he would lose to the bandits of Joseon?”

“Exactly! Who is Hong Gildong? He who can fold the land and run!”

To act as Hong Gildong, I stepped down from the platform and, without any preparation, used the Yongchun point on the soles of my feet to generate internal energy. Then I approached the banquet table.

“Controlling the wind! Bringing rain to a dry sky and slicing the heavens with a sword.”

Snap! I unfolded a fan, waved it grandly as if dancing to create wind, then folded the fan and swung it horizontally in a slow but precise posture for everyone to see.

“Suction technique!?”

“Idiot. If he had learned sorcery, would he be here? Let’s see what tricks the speaker has.”

“Surprising. But it felt real for a moment.”

Nice production, right? The bandits seemed amazed by my sorcery act, their mouths agape, paying close attention to my actions.

“Hong Gildong made all the bandit leaders of the eight provinces of Joseon his subordinates and said, ‘This crispy chicken disappears when eaten!’”

I naturally picked up a chicken leg from the banquet table and stuffed it into my mouth in one bite.

In truth, the production, the acting, it was all aimed at the banquet table. The smell of the food while talking made it impossible to concentrate.

Eating after three days made everything taste too good.

“As women age, they fade, and gold disappears when spent. Let us steal the most precious treasure in this incomparable world!”

After delivering my line, I sneakily committed the unforgivable crime of consuming not one, but two chicken legs—an act not even bandits would dare—and looked at the bandits.

“Hey, what’s the most precious treasure?”

“Food is for after the story! Quick, what’s the most precious treasure?”

As I continued to eat without advancing the story, the bandits urged me on with impatient voices.

You guys, wasn’t it too cruel to make someone who’s been starving for three days talk without giving them anything? After the story, you’d just lock me back in prison anyway.

“The precious treasure of Hong Gildong! That is!”

“That is?”

“Ahem… My throat’s dry, can’t get the words out.”

I smiled slyly, picked up a bowl rolling nearby, and extended it to a curious bandit while holding a bottle of liquor.

“Hehehe. This crazy guy! Does he have guts, or is it just his belly sticking out? Here at the Black Tiger Gang, using the levitation technique, eh? Alright! Drink up!”

The bandit laughed and poured a full cup of liquor. Ah, the taste of alcohol is great. It just absorbs right into my stomach.

“Hey! Make sure this guy doesn’t come down again! Just let him eat his fill and send him up!”

“Here! There are skewers too. Eat up quickly!”

I filled my stomach satisfactorily with the buffet the bandits prepared on the spot and then stood back on the stage.

“The tremendous treasure that Hong Gildong ends up stealing! It’s none other than the hearts of the people!”

I hardened my expression and spoke loudly so everyone could hear.

“How can the people’s hearts be a treasure!”

“Why steal the hearts of worthless people who are neither edible nor usable.”

“It’s disappointing. The only thing worth stealing from passersby is some spare change!”

They didn’t seem to understand how much of a cheat key the hearts of the people were.

“How can a bandit, who can only steal things, take the hearts of the people?”

I began to narrate Hong Gildong’s deeds, mentioning the acts of the Righteous Army one by one.

“Breaking into the homes of corrupt officials, subduing them all, looting their safes! Beating up usurious lenders, burning their debt documents! To the greedy landlords extorting rent! Opening the granaries to feed the starving poor! How could they not steal the hearts of the people?”

I spread my arms wide, mimicking the act of holding the huge heart of the people.

“A bandit who can only steal things can indeed steal the hearts of the people.”

“Wow. So they take the expensive treasures and share the heavy rice? Smart thinking?”

“If we do as he says, we can indeed collect money and steal the hearts of the people too.”

The bandits began to murmur among themselves, realizing that a bandit who can only steal objects could actually steal the hearts of the people.

“Black Tiger Gang brothers! If we just fight with the express agencies, rob merchant goods, and extort money from travelers, the people’s sentiment will only worsen. But this Righteous Army is different! As the word spread across the eight provinces of Joseon, everyone prayed. ‘Please, come to our village, Righteous Army. Please smash the corrupt officials, greedy landlords, and loan sharks in our village. Eagerly waiting!’ They are only waiting for Hong Gildong and the Righteous Army!”

I closed my eyes and pretended to pray, mimicking the people waiting for the bandits.

“Waiting for bandits to come…”

“Being praised for banditry…”

I squinted at the bandits; their mouths agape or faces blank, they seemed to be in shock.

Vicarious satisfaction.

The biggest reason I chose The Tale of Hong Gildong was because of this vicarious satisfaction from the stories of righteous outlaws.

Even if everyone at the Black Tiger Gang had become accustomed to banditry, deep down, they knew it’s wrong.

First, I led the bandits to immerse themselves in the story of Hong Gildong. Then, I introduced the concept of righteous outlawry.

The Righteous Army, much like them, committed acts that would normally weigh heavily on one’s conscience, yet they received praise. The bandits, immersing themselves in these stories, felt as if they were being praised for their own acts of righteous outlawry.

“In the eight provinces of Joseon, young men would rush to the bandit stronghold if the army appeared, telling them to run away! And girls! Dream of marrying a hero from the Righteous Army! And children say! When I grow up, I don’t want to be an official; I want to be part of the Righteous Army! The entire country! The popularity of the Righteous Army surpassed that of the king of Joseon!”

“To think becoming a bandit could be a dream?!”

“To be a hero even when you’re engaged in banditry…”

“To receive respect for righteous outlawry.”

“I want to be respected like that too.”

I deliberately emphasized the stories of righteous outlaws to maximize their vicarious satisfaction.

The bandits, as they learned more about the acts and respect received by Hong Gildong and the Righteous Army, were either amazed or zoned out, completely immersed in my storytelling.

As the story progressed, at some point, no one was touching the feast anymore.

They were so absorbed in The Tale of Hong Gildong that they didn’t even have time to eat.

“Hong Gildong, along with his followers and the people who supported them, established a country on an island called Yuldo. They created a nation where everyone was equal and happy!”

I unfolded and then folded the fan again, bowing to the bandits to signal the end of the story.

“Wooooow! That was amazing!!”

“Brother Hong Gildong! To think he’d even establish a country!”

“A nation where all the people are equal and happy.”

“The story of a bandit loved by all!! It was so much fun!”

The bandits of the Black Tiger Gang all stood up, clapping, and were happy as they listened to the end of my story.

The response was overwhelmingly positive. I never anticipated a standing ovation.

“Hehehe. You barbarian storyteller! Come here!”

I heard the voice of the Black Tiger Gang leader calling me as I descended from the stage.

“Haha. Did you enjoy the story, gang leader?”

I greeted him as politely as I could.

“Yes! I underestimated you because you’re a barbarian, but it was a very interesting set of stories! I liked it!”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Since I liked it! I must keep my promise! Here! This is your prize!”

The gang leader pulled a money pouch from his bosom and tossed it in front of me.

Through the slightly open money pouch, I glimpsed gold and silver coins. A fortune that one couldn’t earn from a single storytelling session on the streets.

“I will not accept it.”

But I couldn’t accept this money.

I declined the gang leader’s prize with a stern face.

“What? You bastard! Are you refusing my generosity?!”

The gang leader’s face twisted in anger as his offer was rejected, causing the festive atmosphere to sour.

I regret it too, buddy.

If I had been truly invited here as a storyteller, I would have gladly accepted the money to support my writing. Internally, I was shedding tears of blood.

I pushed my regret aside and managed a slight smile as I spoke.

“How could that be? Gang leader. Instead of a monetary prize, please grant me a small wish.”

Ask for something other than money.

“What? A wish? Hehehe. Alright. What wish shall I grant?”

The gang leader didn’t promise to fulfill any wish I had; it seemed more like he was merely open to hearing it.

“That idiot. Probably going to ask to be released.”

“Hardly. The gang leader wouldn’t agree to such a request.”

I overheard whispers behind me.

Right. Asking to be released would mean being dragged back to jail immediately. But the wish I intended to ask for wasn’t that.

I approached the gang leader, making my way to the banquet set up before him.

“Gang leader, my wish is neither the prize money nor to be released.”

“Then?”

The reason I told the story wasn’t to gain my freedom.

What I wanted was to win the gang leader’s favor.

Being released? That wouldn’t win the gang leader’s favor.

The wish I had for the gang leader was:

“As the Hong Gildong of the Central Plains and the esteemed leader of the Black Tiger Gang in Hubei Province! My wish is not for gold or any more valuable treasure but for a cup of liquor poured by the esteemed gang leader himself!”