Bring Someone Who Can Handle It
In the end, they had to turn back right in front of the Cheongryong Mugwan. Their destination was the absolute center of the righteous murim world, the colossal symbol of power that controlled all laws and order: the Mu-rim-meng.
"The pretext is an interview with a person of interest," Hwangbo Suyeon whispered, her face set in stone as she walked pressed close to my side.
"They said it's to uncover the truth behind the Moyong family's atrocities in Yodong and your kidnapping, sunsengnim."
Her words were utterly reasonable and normal. A lowly literature teacher from a martial academy had been kidnapped by one of the Five Great Families, the Moyong family. And in the process, the patriarchs of the great families had clashed, resulting in the death of the Moyong patriarch—an unprecedented incident.
From the Mu-rim-meng's perspective, summoning and questioning me, the core figure in this massive event, was the obvious next step.
But understanding something logically in my head and the terror gripping my heart were two entirely different matters.
The memory of that damp, rotting underground prison in the Moyong estate still burned vividly in my mind—the razor-sharp blades, the horrific pain as they dug into my flesh, and the mocking gazes of those bastards looking down at me like a bug.
'Have to face another interrogation?'
Without realizing it, the hairs on my body stood on end, and my legs began to tremble.
What made the Mu-rim-meng any different? They were just another armed group that could trample a mere teacher's human rights like trash if it served their purposes.
The grand tiled roof and red pillars of the Mu-rim-meng's Nakyang branch entrance loomed like the gaping maw of a tiger ready to swallow me whole.
"Don't worry too much, jakganim." This time, Seol Muyeong, standing on my other side, gripped the hilt of her Man nyeonseol sword Seola tightly and spoke in a chilling tone.
"If they so much as harm a single hair on your head unjustly, I'll freeze this entire Mu-rim-meng hall solid and carry you out."
"I as well—I'll stake the entire fate of the Hwangbo family to protect you, sunsengnim."
The two fanatic beauties' declarations of lethal protection. Normally reassuring, but right now, their extreme loyalty only made me fear they'd provoke the Mu-rim-meng.
'Please... just answer their questions quietly and get this over with.'
I silently prayed a thousand times as I crossed the heavy iron gates of the Mu-rim-meng.
They led us to a special interrogation room deep underground. After navigating a pitch-black corridor without a sliver of sunlight, they opened a massive iron door into a room.
It was even more suffocating and oppressive than I'd imagined. Cold gray stone walls enclosed the space on all sides, with only a crude wooden table and two chairs standing alone in the center.
The worst part was being left utterly alone in this room.
"Miss Hwangbo and Miss Seol, please wait outside the interrogation room. Per protocol, no one besides the person of interest may be present."
At the Mu-rim-meng warriors' refusal, Hwangbo Suyeon and Seol Muyeong naturally flared up with terrifying auras.
"Enough."
My single word quelled their surging killing intent.
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm f... fine. Wait here."
Going in alone terrified me, but letting them cause a scene would only make things worse.
In the end, I left their worried gazes behind and sat alone in this frigid room.
And across from me sat Somyeongseop. He stared at me with sharp, cold eyes like a hawk eyeing prey.
"Teacher Yeon Woon-ryong."
His low, dry voice sliced through the heavy air of the interrogation room.
"Do you have any idea why the Moyong patriarch kidnapped a common literature teacher like you and threw you in his dungeon?"
It was a needle-sharp question. I swallowed hard.
'Why? Because my novel nailed their dirty secrets!'
But how could I spit out the truth like that?
"I... I really have no idea."
I answered with the most pitiful, wronged expression I could muster.
"I'm just an ordinary teacher who taught kids to read and write at the Cheongryong Mugwan. Why they targeted me..."
"An ordinary literature teacher."
Somyeongseop cut me off with a cold snort.
"And to rescue this ordinary teacher, Patriarch Hwangbo Daeryeok—one of the Ten Great Masters—personally raced to Yodong and crushed the Moyong patriarch's throat?"
His eyes flashed even sharper.
"Not to mention the two women guarding you. One is the Hwangbo family's prized jewel, and the other is no less formidable."
Somyeongseop leaned forward over the table, pressing me.
"You expect me to believe all these absurd events happened just because you're an 'ordinary literature teacher'?"
My breath caught. His logic was razor-sharp and flawless.
From an objective third-party view, my specs were anything but ordinary. No matter how pathetically I acted, the scale of the people around me utterly negated any claim of normalcy.
"What... exactly are you?"
Somyeongseop's final question stabbed into my heart like a dagger. I couldn't respond, just sweated bullets.
That's when someone opened the interrogation room door.
"What is it?"
The entrant covered their mouth with one hand. Somyeongseop nodded as if receiving a transmission.
"Please wait a moment. I have to step out briefly. I'll be right back."
Somyeongseop spoke politely, but the pressure in every word was unrelated to his courtesy.
He left me alone in the dark room, and the clang of the iron door closing squeezed my heart like a vise.
Perfect isolation. In the suffocating silence, I frantically racked my brain.
'What do I do? What should I say?'
I was agonizing alone in this hellish time when—
Creak.
The heavy iron door opened again. I jolted upright, expecting Somyeongseop.
But it was a plain-looking attendant in a low-rank Mu-rim-meng uniform, carrying a tray with a steaming teacup.
"The interrogation seems long, so I brought tea to wet your throat."
The attendant bowed deeply and set the teacup on the table.
"Ah... yes, thank you."
Parched from tension, I reached for it without suspicion.
That instant—
Plop.
In the brief motion as he set down the cup, something small and white slipped from his sleeve and landed lightly on my knee.
'Huh?'
I instinctively looked down. It was a tiny, folded piece of thin paper.
"Uh, excuse me. You dropped th—"
Thinking I'd spilled something by mistake, I picked it up to hand back—
"Please drink and gather your strength."
The attendant ignored me completely, grabbed his tray, and vanished out the door without a backward glance.
The iron door sealed shut again.
I stared blankly into space, then down at the paper in my hand.
'What the...?'
A storm of anxious thoughts raced through my mind. But curiosity and survival instinct won out.
Fearing watchers outside, I slipped my hand under the table and unfolded the tiny paper with trembling fingers.
Rustle.
— The Mu-rim-meng higher-ups strongly suspect you are the leader of a massive secret intelligence organization whose true nature eludes grasp. —
I nearly screamed and tumbled from the chair.
'Insane... this handwriting!'
I recognized it instantly. That horrific yet elegant script from the dessert wrappers Aunt Gukbap had given me over the past months.
It was none other than Danche Ryeong, the Dark Queen of the Danga Sangdan, sub-branch leader.
My heart pounded as I read the short message.
"......!!"
I forgot to breathe, rereading it two, three times. It hit like a hammer to the skull.
First shock: the attendant's identity.
'Danche Ryeong... you madwoman. Even an attendant slipping in and out of the Mu-rim-meng's deepest secure interrogation room is your spy?!'
The heart of the righteous world, the Mu-rim-meng—especially its most secure underground. For a mere merchant guild lackey to infiltrate so casually and deliver intel...
I should have realized back at Cheongryong Mugwan when she swapped out the restaurant auntie and trash collector to monitor me. Her intel network and infiltration were beyond imagination—the invisible terror of murim itself.
Second shock: the Mu-rim-meng's view of me.
'Leader of a secret intel org? Me? Why?!'
I wanted to vomit blood in injustice. But my Cheonpa Mugyeok Jiche brain, honed as a web novel author, began analyzing.
'Wait... from the Mu-rim-meng's perspective...'
It was plenty—no, perfectly—misunderstandable.
They could only judge by visible 'results.' My novels dissected murim's hidden scandals and secrets with pinpoint accuracy: the corruption of righteous sects, the Moyong family's secret demonic arts, hidden fortuitous encounters' locations.
How could a lowly academy teacher know such classified intel? Only one conclusion.
'He has a colossal, nationwide secret intel network feeding him info!'
I let out a hollow laugh, leaning back. I crumpled the note, shoved it in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed it with tea.
This premium intel from Danche Ryeong couldn't go to waste. As evidence vanished into my gut, a massive simulation spun up in my mind.
'Two options.'
First: Stick to 'ordinary teacher,' whimper and beg pathetically. But Somyeongseop's sharp grilling had already torpedoed that.
Only one left.
'Don't get dragged into their game—flip the board myself.'
They think I'm the head of a massive secret intel org? Fine. I'll become the 'real black curtain' beyond their wildest dreams.
I've created dozens, hundreds of such villains with my own hands. The cliché boss lurking in shadows, manipulating the world, piercing all truths, enervating foes with a smug smile.
Think I can't play the part?
"Hoo..."
I exhaled deeply, focusing on my dantian.
A cool, pure energy bubbled up from the depths of my inner core, chilling the frantic pounding of my terror-stricken heart.
My Cheonpa Mugyeok Jiche body might look frail outwardly, but the power within rivaled an absolute tyrant's.
As I gathered the energy, my slumped back straightened. My wavering pupils settled into deep, chilling abyss-like calm. My trembling lips curled into an elegant, arrogant arc.
Perfect persona equipped. No longer a quivering deer—I was now the massive predator feigning a trap to stalk the hunter.
Kiiiiiik.
The moment I finished preparing, as if on cue, the heavy iron door scraped open roughly.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
It was Somyeongseop. He shut the door, strode over, and plopped roughly into the opposite chair.
"Teacher Yeon Woon-ryong. Let me ask again—"
He leaned forward, voice low and menacing.
"Heh..."
A low, gloomy yet chillingly leisurely chuckle escaped my lips. The soul of a 10-year pro web novel author, fully possessed by the black curtain character, unleashed ultimate acting.
"You... just laughed?"
Somyeongseop's brow furrowed fiercely. My reaction utterly deviated from his expectations, leaving him visibly rattled.
I slowly, elegantly propped my elbow on the table and rested my chin. My deep, sunken cold eyes locked onto his wavering gaze.
The room's air crushed down heavily, freezing solid. Hwalcheon Simgyeol's energy subtly emanated, overwhelmingly enhancing my presence.
"Investigator Somyeongseop, was it?"
I asked in a flat tone.
"Is what you really want to know... who I am?"
I stretched my smirk longer, selecting the juiciest villain line from my past life's arsenal and hurling it at his face.
"The abyss has no eyes, so all that gazes upon you is your own shadow."
Somyeongseop frowned at the cryptic words. Time to shake his mental more.
"Rain falls by heaven's will, but whose neck it soaks is by mine."
"What the hell are you—"
To his angry voice, I replied with deep disappointment.
"As expected, the current Mu-rim-meng can't handle it? Disappointing."
Unable to process the endless nonsense, Somyeongseop floundered.
"Investigator Somyeongseop. You're not permitted yet. Bring someone who can handle it."
Me, Yeon Woon-ryong, former hotshot web novel author. I still had hundreds of gem-like black curtain lines left.
Go ahead—bring someone who can handle it!