A New Encounter - 2
Dang Hwarin.
In the original story she was a poison human of the Sichuan Dang Clan and a villainess. Her sobriquet was Dokjeop—Poison Butterfly.
Even after transmigrating, meeting an original villain character was something I would rather have avoided. Yet through Sohee I had learned that even villains could become heroines, and of all nights, that was the night I ran into Dang Hwarin.
What if Hwarin could become a heroine too?
When we first met I still thought it possible, but I had been drowning in the Seong Family Manor crisis with Sohee. All I could do was drop a single hint that might twist her fate, then leave.
I never expected to meet her again here.
The moment I climbed to the second floor of the inn, the situation was already a powder keg ready to blow.
Someone must have yanked the veil covering Dang Hwarin’s face. Her lower face—mottled, discolored skin—was fully exposed, and every martial artist in the place had turned their full wariness on her.
“She’s got the plague! That’s why her whole party ran off and left her!”
“A few days back I saw her companions bringing medicine into that bitch’s room!”
“Throw the leper whore out already!”
Men who looked like the inn’s hired guards all drew their blades in unison.
“What? L-leper whore?”
Leper.
Leprosy—Hansen’s disease—was a scourge famous even in the Bible, an ancient plague that made living flesh rot and fall away. In modern times it was easily cured, but in the past one infection meant a lifetime of agony and absolute social exile.
To a woman whose greatest complex was her discolored skin, those words were a knife straight into the Achilles’ heel.
Sure enough, Hwarin was furious. Hidden needles—throwing weapons—appeared from nowhere and slid into the knuckles of her right hand.
“Hidden weapons? Wait—her hair’s purple?”
“That leper bitch is from the Sichuan Dang Clan?!”
“Fuck… they keep calling me a leper to the bitter end.”
I could see Hwarin’s jaw clenched so hard she was grinding her teeth, but another second and those needles would be buried between the guards’ eyebrows.
“Hey! She isn’t Sichuan Dang Clan! She’s from some other place!”
“Damn, false alarm. Just throw the bitch out first—we’ll worry about the money later!”
The five guards raised their swords with swaggering confidence and leveled them at Hwarin.
You idiots are going to die. This is no woman a handful of second-rate inn guards can handle.
Wait… am I watching the exact first scene where Hwarin’s looks twist her into a villainess?
Then I had to stop it.
“Halt.”
I poured strength into a low, carrying voice the way a masked gentleman might toss a rose to a magical girl in school uniform who was fighting for her life.
It worked. Every guard’s head snapped toward me at once.
“Who’s this barbarian bastard? The hell are you!”
“A barbarian telling us to halt?!”
One of them shoved his blade right up to my face.
The old me would have hit the floor flat. Against street thugs or beggars maybe I could have bluffed, but even a third-rate martial artist with a drawn sword could have ended a nobody like me on the spot. Even now, five armed men were more than I could actually fight.
But I had a weapon of my own.
Mysterious martial expert concept—go.
The technique that could fool these bastards.
“How rude.”
Without the slightest hesitation I closed my hand around the blade inches from my nose.
For an ordinary person it would have been suicide—fingers sliced clean off. Not a single drop of blood appeared on mine.
Okmyeon Hoshingong.
The external art Sohee had taught me. It was proving its worth right now.
“Wh-what?! This crazy son of a bitch!”
The guard yanked frantically, but the sword refused to move.
I kept my grip casual, face completely unbothered, as though I were exerting no force at all.
“H-he grabbed a naked blade with his bare hand!”
“There’s no blood?”
“H-how can a barbarian…?”
If you had a little sister who poured endless cash on you the way mine does, you’d be able to do it too, punk.
Skin reinforced by Okmyeon Hoshingong. Third-rate steel couldn’t even scratch a body layered in cash-shop items.
“Grrraaah!”
The man seized the hilt with both hands and hauled with everything he had. The blade still didn’t budge in my single-handed grip.
I already told you it won’t work.
Even back when I first learned the Moyong clan’s secret breathing method my physical ability had already left ordinary people behind. Now I was circulating the upgraded Soyun Shimsanggyeol Sohee had refined for me. Pure muscle power was never going to cut it.
The instant I felt his strength falter, I simply pulled. With the arm strength boosted by Soyun Shimsanggyeol, the sword left his hands and was mine.
“Huh?”
The disarmed guard could only stare idiotically as his own weapon clattered across the inn floor.
I performed the entire sequence with an air of bored leisure, as though it had cost me nothing.
“A-a master!”
“He snatched the sword bare-handed!”
“Why is a master even in our little inn?!”
Yes. Be more amazed. Praise me more!
Finally getting to overpower someone with actual martial arts after coming to this Wuxia world felt strangely moving. Of course a real sword fight would expose my true level in seconds…
But there was no need to advertise that. I strolled casually between the guards and came to a stop in front of Dang Hwarin.
“You… that bar—Kang Yunho?”
She had been about to call me barbarian again, then the memory of that night surfaced and she spoke my name instead.
That’s right. Kang Yunho. You claimed you didn’t care about barbarian names, yet apparently I engraved this one pretty well.
“It has been a while, Young Lady Hwarin.”
I clasped my fists in a formal martial salute, smiling.
“Ah… uh.”
She gave a tiny, startled nod.
“Young Hero, are you acquainted with that plague-ridden wench?”
One flashy sword grab and I had gone from “barbarian bastard” to “Young Hero” in a single leap. All the talking in the world had never gotten me past barbarian status before.
So this is what they mean when they say a weak body makes the mind suffer.
“Young Lady Hwarin is not afflicted with any plague. She merely suffers from a skin condition.”
“Anyone can see she’s a plague patient.”
Now that they thought I was a master, their attitude flipped to careful politeness.
“Look carefully. There are no blisters or festering sores like a true plague victim. Her skin color is simply… different.”
Look closer, you racist bastards. Judging a person by skin or hair color is exactly why Murim dating sims get such a bad reputation.
“Still…”
The guards kept casting suspicious glances at Hwarin.
I studied her myself for a moment. The mottled discoloration began below the nose. From the chin down the throat the skin still looked clean—perhaps the symptoms had not yet spread over her entire body.
I needed proof in front of these idiots.
“Young Lady Hwarin, may I borrow your wrist a moment?”
I took her wrist—discolored like the rest of the affected skin—and held it up for them to see.
The instant I gripped the “diseased” flesh without hesitation, several guards stepped back, eyes wide.
I bowed slightly in apology for the liberty; she accepted the gesture. Then I spoke with perfect calm.
“If this were truly plague, would I be touching the affected area so freely?”
“……Guess not.”
“Looking closer, it really doesn’t seem like it.”
They muttered among themselves. Finally the one who appeared to be their leader spoke.
“Young Hero, it seems we were mistaken. However, it remains true that the girl has failed to pay her lodging for a full week.”
“She is a treasured daughter of the Seong Family Manor in Daeheung County. She appears to have become separated from her companions for a time. Please grant her a little more patience.”
“If the Young Hero says so… we will withdraw for today.”
The guards bowed and left.
You just saved your own lives thanks to me. Remember that.
Being able to use martial arts really was convenient. Show a little evidence and people swallowed the story whole. Sohee had given me an excellent technique; I intended to abuse it often.
“Tch. Shouldn’t have let them walk away like that.”
I was still savoring the afterglow when an irritated voice came from behind me.
“Young Lady Hwarin. Once again—it has been a while.”
I smiled and greeted her a second time.
“…….”
She stared at me with a distinctly displeased expression.
I know. You got called a leper and I made you swallow it. I also know you’re stronger than those five put together.
But still…
“Their fault is great, yet I ask you to show mercy just this once. People can act foolishly when startled.”
If you start killing every person who scorns you for your looks, that will be the first button that turns you into the future Poison Butterfly.
“……Fuck. I know. That’s why I held back.”
She frowned, turned her head away, and reluctantly admitted it.
Oh. Her temper is still manageable at this stage. Come to think of it, even earlier she only drew her needles when they drew steel—she never actually attacked.
“A wise decision.”
I bowed my head slightly, still smiling.
“Whatever. You. Come with me.”
Hwarin jerked her chin toward the room she was staying in.
Damn. Hot-blooded as her looks. Save her life and she immediately invites me to her room. Of course she doesn’t mean it that way… probably.
I nodded without argument and followed her inside.
The instant I stepped into the room a sharp, acrid smell hit me.
“Gimme a second—I need to air this place out.”
Hwarin hurried across the room and threw open the windows.
The interior was a disaster. Every drawer stood open. Belongings lay scattered across the floor. Nothing of any obvious value remained. It looked as though the place had been thoroughly looted.
What the hell happened here?
While I was still staring at the wreckage, Hwarin dropped into the chair beside the table and motioned for me to sit as well.
The moment I did, she cut straight to the point.
“Hey. That night—do you remember what you said to me?”
The night we met in the dark. Of course I remembered.
“The medicine you’re taking… It’s not healing your body. It’s making it worse.”
The single line I had thrown to stop her from becoming a villainess by destroying her own body.
“Of course. I remember.”
“The medicine I was taking… it wasn’t medicine at all.”
She clamped her mouth shut for a moment, as though the memory itself tasted foul.
“I told you. It was a drug that ruins the body.”
“What I was swallowing was an extreme poison compounded from countless toxic substances. In the workshop where they made it there was even a martial arts manual on how to create poison humans.”
“As I thought. So that was what you were taking.”
I gave a small nod, confirming everything she had discovered.
“I always believed I had some incurable disease from childhood.”
“And strangely enough, the symptoms started the very day the man who claimed to be a martial artist of the Sichuan Dang Clan began teaching you martial arts.”
I spoke as though I already knew every detail. Her eyes went wide.
“You… just what the hell are you? How do you know all of that?”