The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 159: Inevitability - 3

‘There are no visible signs of the typical abnormalities seen in Poisoned Ones.’

Tang Geo-ho looked at Tang Hwa-rin, who stood before him, staring back with confidence.

Even if her body had been conditioned for over a decade to withstand extreme yang poison, enduring the venom of a millennia-old centipede was no simple feat.

All previous test subjects who reached Tang Hwa-rin’s stage had shown side effects. But this time, no matter how he looked, he couldn’t see a single one.

‘She’s completely controlling the poison.’

There was no trace of fever on her body. Her skin wasn’t festering from the toxins. This was proof that she had formed a poison pellet within her and was perfectly regulating the venom.

‘It’s not a failure. A Poisoned One even more perfect than I imagined has been created.’

Tang Geo-ho was overcome with ecstasy.

She probably claimed it was a failure just to provoke him. Tang Hwa-rin may harbor hostility toward them, but he couldn’t let this escalate into a fight.

He had to retrieve the perfect Poisoned One in a perfect state. Neither Tang Geo-ho nor the group supporting him wanted any further damage.

“Come with me.”

Tang Geo-ho once again addressed her in a gentle tone.

“Aren’t you tired of repeating yourself?”

Tang Hwa-rin answered in a voice full of irritation.

“I traveled back and forth from Sichuan to Hubei just to see you. Repeating a few words is hardly something to be tired of.”

“Shameless as ever. Fine, you used to visit often when I was a kid. So, do you remember what you used to say back then?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Was she responding to nostalgic sentiment? Tang Geo-ho wore a look that seemed to ask his beloved daughter for clarity.

“You told me never to associate with or trust the Demonic Sect.”

Unlike what he expected, nostalgia didn’t work. Tang Hwa-rin looked at him with a face full of disgust.

“It’s merely a cooperative relationship.”

“Bullshit. I recall you once said traitors are worse than scum.”

“What does orthodoxy or heresy matter? What’s important is that when the Sect rises, the Sichuan Tang Clan will become the greatest under heaven. And when that day comes, I will be its master.”

Having realized acting wouldn’t work, Tang Geo-ho dropped the pretense and showed his true face.

“Keep dreaming. Save that nonsense for bedtime.”

“When that day arrives, I’ll grant you every luxury and honor. What do you want? Wealth? Power? I’ll give you everything. You’ll stand beside me as the second-in-command of the greatest clan under heaven.”

“I don’t need any of that.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Tang Hwa-rin rejected him as if such things meant nothing to her.

“Hah. That’s right. You always wanted something else. Do you want friends? The children of noble families will fall over themselves trying to please you. Do you want a man? Just point your finger, and any man you want will be sent to your chambers.”

“I said I don’t need it.”

“No human is without desire. Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything!”

“You can’t give me what I want.”

Tang Hwa-rin mocked Tang Geo-ho, shaking her head slowly as he shouted in frustration.

“What?”

No matter what he offered, it would never satisfy her. Because what Tang Hwa-rin desired was something Tang Geo-ho could never give.

Feeling the aura stirring from the poison pellet within her body, Tang Hwa-rin spoke.

“There’s only one person who can give me what I want.”

Because there was only one person she truly needed.

*********

There was nothing left to say to the enemy.

Tang Hwa-rin began channeling her internal energy and venom.

If she were Yun-ho, she might have made the opponent cry with a single phrase and convinced them to switch sides—or at the very least, left them emotionally shaken. But she didn’t know how to do any of that.

Gazing at a black-clad warrior who stood carelessly off to the side, Tang Hwa-rin stomped her foot.

“What the—?”

In the blink of an eye—between the warrior’s eyes blinking—Tang Hwa-rin appeared right in front of him.

Lightning-Chasing Body Art (Chuirei Shenfa).

Poison up close, throwing knives from afar—the core principle of the Sichuan Tang Clan’s martial arts. This body technique had been developed to uphold that doctrine.

As the name suggests, like chasing lightning, the Lightning-Chasing Body Art was among the fastest techniques in the martial world, and it now exploded from Tang Hwa-rin’s feet.

“Gah!”

As soon as she closed the distance and grabbed the black-clad warrior’s wrist, she infused it with venom. With a short cry, the warrior died on the spot.

“You bitch!”

Another black-clad warrior rushed in, slashing his sword in a panic—but it couldn’t cut down the woman chasing lightning.

“Why’d you call me?”

“Guuuh!”

The fate of someone who missed their one chance was the same as the one before.

‘I can do this.’

She’d known about Lightning-Chasing Body Art, but had never used it due to the immense drain on internal energy. But now, having absorbed power through the poison pellet, she could use it easily.

If she could just infect her enemies, she didn’t need overwhelming martial skills. Approach, retreat—as long as she could repeat that, she could take on all of them.

“Get out of the way!”

“Aaaaah!”

“Run away!”

With complete freedom of movement, Tang Hwa-rin used Lightning-Chasing Body Art to eliminate the black-clad warriors one by one, like black bolts of lightning falling from the sky.

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“You bitcchhhh!!”

Lightning must be chased with lightning. As casualties mounted, Tang Geo-ho threw himself at Tang Hwa-rin and unleashed the Ninefold Jade Venom Palm.

Tang Hwa-rin grabbed his wrist and tried to inject venom—but it didn’t work on him.

As expected. The Ninefold Jade Venom Palm was a technique performed with hands soaked in countless poisons. A single touch turned into a torrent of toxic water.

Even if he couldn’t infect her, he believed his martial arts could overpower a Poisoned One.

Tang Geo-ho had miscalculated.

“What?!”

Tang Hwa-rin grabbed his wrist again—this time, controlling the venom within his hand and pushing it toward his heart.

“You bitch! Manipulating someone else’s poison?!”

To manipulate venom inside someone else’s body at will—it was like turning a loosed arrow mid-flight with nothing but sheer will. Could Poisoned Ones really do such things?

Startled, Tang Geo-ho tried to leap back and create distance.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

To stop him from fleeing, Tang Hwa-rin unleashed a strange energy from her hand.

“Palm wind?”

He couldn’t dodge it. But it wasn’t strong. It was an attack he could cut through. Tang Geo-ho, in a rush, swung his other hand.

“Idiot. That’s not just a palm wind. It’s a poison palm.”

“Kyaaaagh!!”

The arm that had cut through the poison palm began to rot and burn. Tang Hwa-rin didn’t miss the opportunity and closed the gap again.

But one of the black-clad warriors suddenly swung a blade filled with fierce energy, blocking her path.

“Stand down! You still have work to do for the Sect!”

“...Fine.”

“Tch.”

All she could do was watch as Tang Geo-ho, clutching his burning arm, fled in a disgraceful retreat.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

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The first to grow weary in a game of hide-and-seek is always the seeker. And if it's a game of hide-and-seek where lives are at stake—then even more so.

“You wicked bitch!”

“Yeah. My poison is wicked.”

Tang Hwa-rin let out heavy breaths as she stared at the black-clad men tightening the encirclement around her.

‘They’re adapting.’

She closed the distance using the Lightning-Chasing Body Art and grabbed them with the Golden Thread Hand, infusing them with venom. If that failed, she’d shoot a poison palm. Even a graze was lethal—but there were too many people here confident they wouldn’t be grazed.

At first, plenty of them fell for her attacks, but it didn’t take long for them to figure out a counter-strategy. Her methods were no longer working.

“Slowly close in! Maintain distance! When she lunges at one, the others attack her flank!”

As soon as the black-clad figures realized Tang Hwa-rin was fatigued, they began tightening the circle around her.

‘I need time to catch my breath.’

She glanced briefly at Kang Yun-ho, who lay collapsed in the distance.

Was he waiting for the right moment? Or had he lost consciousness from heavy bleeding? Or maybe she’d missed some hidden injury?

Whatever the case, if she collapsed here, she wouldn’t be able to protect him.

Tang Hwa-rin turned her gaze back to the black-clad men creeping closer. If things continued like this, she’d be overwhelmed. But no clear solution came to mind.

If it were Yun-ho—if Yun-ho were the Poisoned One—what would he do?

If it were Yun-ho.

“You’re closing in? Fine by me. Come on. I’ll show you what a real Poisoned One can do.”

Tang Hwa-rin dropped her guarded posture and instead gestured at them with a composed, confident air. Her demeanor mirrored that of a certain black-haired storyteller, proudly standing on stage.

When the black-clad men’s gazes dropped to her hands, she laced them with venom—showing she could kill with a touch.

The sight made them hesitate. They had never seen a Poisoned One like this before. Who knew what final technique she might still be hiding? Her calm, casual attitude instilled momentary fear.

“Who wants to come first? You? Or you? Whoever comes first, I promise you—you’ll die first.”

No one wanted to die just for stepping forward. Some of them were members of the Demonic Sect, but most had simply been hired as mercenaries. They weren’t ready to die meaningless deaths.

Her performance created a strange stand-off.

‘It worked.’

Despite the danger, Tang Hwa-rin smiled faintly to herself. As expected, the answer was Yun-ho. The performance she learned from Yun-ho had worked.

She let out a quiet breath of relief. But her biggest problem remained unsolved.

‘I don’t have any techniques left to use.’

She knew how to become a Poisoned One—but not what a Poisoned One could do.

At best, she had the poison palm she’d recently started using, and the Lightning-Chasing Body Art she had known about but never mastered until now. Even the poison palm drained her internal energy too much.

She had the body of a tiger—but all she knew how to do was flail her claws by instinct. A naive tiger, on the brink of being cornered and hunted by seasoned predators.

Her bluff would soon be exposed. A creeping sense of despair began to rise from the depths of her heart.

‘No. If I give up, Yun-ho will die.’

How many times had Yun-ho stood up to protect her? Now, finally, it was her turn—but she was about to fail? That could never happen.

Tang Hwa-rin drove out the despair with thoughts of one man.

Just like Yun-ho always did, she had to find a way out.

But no matter how she reviewed the techniques she’d learned, she couldn’t find any clear solution for this situation.

‘What would Yun-ho do?’

In any crisis, he always found a way out. If he were here, he’d probably find some new breakthrough even now.

Tang Hwa-rin scoffed inwardly at herself.

Yun-ho wasn’t even from the Tang Clan—how could he possibly have a method she didn’t? Relying on him too much was a bad habit. It wasn’t like he could teach her their clan’s martial arts.

‘Wait... the Tang Clan martial arts Yun-ho showed me?’

Suddenly, a memory flashed in her mind—of a conversation in the attic from one day long ago.

— You’re not even from the Tang Clan. How can you depict their martial arts so well?

— I’ve watched Tang Clan techniques for a long time. I understand the essence. That’s all it takes.

— What does that even mean?

— Think of regular martial arts. You start with the simplest kill-move: a stab. That’s learning the “dot” of the technique.

— Dot?

— Yeah. Dot, line, surface. As your skills improve, you learn to slash—that’s the line. And eventually, you reach the point where the surface of the sword becomes an extension of yourself. That’s controlling the “surface.” It’s a gradual path from dot to line to surface. That’s how normal martial arts work. But the Tang Clan is different.

— Different?

— From poison techniques to Ten-Thousand Flower Rain, Tang Clan martial arts aim to dominate space itself from the beginning. The trajectory is completely different.

— Now that you mention it... that kind of makes sense.

— As long as you understand the essence of Tang Clan martial arts, you can use them anytime, anywhere.

The insight that man shared about the essence of the Tang Clan’s martial arts burrowed into her spine and mind.

Once again, the answer lay in Yun-ho.

Right. There was no need to learn new techniques to defeat them.

The essence of the Tang Clan was already within her—why search elsewhere?

As Tang Hwa-rin closed her eyes, a strange powder began to emanate from her body.

“What is that?!”

“P-Poison! It’s poison powder! Inhale it and you’re dead! Back away!”

A pitiful caterpillar.

Helpless. Suffering. Loved by no one.

Maybe she had been fated to be trampled «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» to death.

But one man had approached that unloved caterpillar.

With his words, his writing, his attention—he nurtured the tiny worm that others would have passed by.

Because of one man’s attention, the caterpillar endured the years of hardship and finally underwent metamorphosis.

“Unleash wind blades! Blow away the poison powder!”

Despite the black-clad warriors’ efforts, the poisonous dust seemed to possess a will of its own—it reassembled around her once again.

“Step back! You wench! What have you done?!”

At last, a butterfly spread its beautiful wings.

Tang Hwa-rin opened her eyes and gazed at the wings she had unfurled.

They were not wings she had forged alone.

A martial technique born from her and him, together.

A name that was slightly embarrassing—but deeply proud.

Poison Butterfly. Tang Hwa-rin stood before them and introduced the name of her art.

“Welcome... to my Poisoned Killing Zone.”