A Heaven's Net Just for Me
The next morning, the scene in Lecture Hall 13 of Cheongryong Mugwan was as dismal as ever. Students either sleeping or slacking off. But there was one exception.
Hwangbo Suyeon, seated dead center in the front row, was different. She sat ramrod straight, her eyes blazing with an intensity that seemed ready to devour me whole. It was clear she was dying to hear the "analysis results" I'd promised her the night before.
Her piercing gaze bored into me throughout the entire class, sending cold sweat trickling down my back. I cleared my throat awkwardly and mechanically recited a few famous passages.
Finally, the bell signaling the end of that hellishly long class rang out across the hall.
"Alright, that's it for today's lesson."
Before I could even finish, the dozing students sprang up like coiled springs and poured out of the lecture hall. In an instant, the rundown hall was empty, leaving just the two of us: me and Hwangbo Suyeon.
A heavy silence settled in.
Hwangbo Suyeon rose cautiously from her seat and approached the podium, one deliberate step at a time. Each footfall carried a weighty pressure that made it hard to breathe.
"Teacher."
She stood before me, her voice brimming with anticipation.
"Did you read the book I gave you last night?"
I took a deep breath inwardly. Here we go. It was time for the grand con of the century, infused with the soul of a ten-year veteran web novel author.
I deliberately schooled my face into a troubled expression, slowly pulling the full set of Regressor Sword God, This Life Fist King from my desk drawer and placing it on the desk. Then, in a low, grave tone, I spoke.
"I did. Stayed up all night doing it."
My serious demeanor made her eyes sparkle even brighter.
"It was astonishing. A prose so masterful it defies belief."
I let out a deep sigh, staring off into the distant void on purpose.
"The one who wrote this isn't just some wordsmith. It's a monstrous talent that perfectly seizes and shakes the human psyche."
At my bold praise, Hwangbo Suyeon sharply inhaled. Ecstasy from meeting someone who recognized her idol washed over her face.
Jackpot, I thought, unleashing my prepared lines without a hitch.
"Disciple Suyeon, did you pay close attention to the plot progression in this book?"
I lightly tapped the cover with my finger and continued.
"This author manipulates the reader's emotions by building suppression and then explosively releasing it, controlling the psyche to perfection."
And shamelessly, I pressed on.
"Writers have a jargon for it: the 'sweet potato and soda technique.'"
"S-sweet potato... and soda technique?"
Her face twisted in confusion at the modern web novel term that didn't exist in this world.
"Ah, it's one of the literary metaphors that came from the Western Regions. Not many know it precisely yet, but this work employs it flawlessly."
I could feel a tiny uptick in her trust as she heard my explanation.
Riding the momentum, I repackaged my nonsense in murim lingo.
"Simply put, it condenses frustration in the reader's dantian by placing the protagonist in dire crises of injustice and blockage."
Hwangbo Suyeon swallowed hard, fully immersed in my words.
"Then, just as that ultra-compressed energy nears heart-stopping levels, the protagonist stumbles on fortune, mercilessly shatters his enemies, and vents it all in one go."
I clenched my fist for emphasis.
"The interval between suffocating buildup and explosive release—it's timed to perfection, without a single error. This is the absolute realm of wielding human emotions like one's own qi!"
Her pupils quivered with awe at my fervent lecture. She was completely hooked on my scam.
"And that's not all."
Building on the momentum, I slyly fed her the conclusions she'd puzzled out herself, as if I'd analyzed them overnight.
"This text hides layers of chilling foreshadowing that ordinary readers would never spot."
"Foreshadowing... you mean?"
"Clues the author meticulously planted from the early chapters."
I locked eyes with her and dropped the core hook.
"For instance, the description in Volume 1, Chapter 4, where Gam Uhyeok's longsword tip is broken. Or the delayed arrival with antidote in Volume 2."
Her shoulders jerked sharply. These were the exact points she'd fiercely argued with the tavern reading group uncles.
"And the traces of ice arts on the severed right arm's cross-section in the mid-part of Volume 3."
I lowered my voice to a secretive whisper.
"All these subtle traces are traps the author cunningly laid to deceive readers. Put them together, and they point to one traitor."
"Gam Uhyeok...!"
Hwangbo Suyeon gasped involuntarily, picking up my line.
"Exactly! You saw it too, Disciple Suyeon. What insight."
I feigned surprise, directing admiring eyes her way.
"Through these hidden devices, the author wants readers to realize: Cheon Ujae's most trusted childhood friend, Gam Uhyeok, is the true betrayer colluding with the mastermind in the shadows."
"Ahh...!"
A cry of elation escaped her. Her lonely deductions, ignored by the tavern idiots, had been perfectly validated by a scholarly literature teacher. Her body trembled with emotion.
Now her gaze held not just respect for a teacher, but absolute trust, like finding a true soulmate.
Perfect. She's totally bought it.
I inwardly cheered, certain of victory. A bit more deflection, and I'd be home free.
"So, Disciple Suyeon."
I puffed up with authority, aiming for the close.
"This unparalleled bold flair and intricate structure—I've read tens of thousands of books in my life, but I've never seen anything like it."
"Never... seen anything like it?"
"Indeed. This author must be an eccentric who grew disillusioned with existing murim literature and forged a wholly original path."
Well, not entirely a lie. No such novel existed in this world until now.
"Ordinary folk might read it and think it's just an entertaining tale."
Time for the clincher.
"You want to find this author and meet them, right, Disciple Suyeon?"
She nodded vigorously.
"Those who can't grasp this brilliance will only lead you on false trails, wasting precious time."
At my firm declaration, she nodded thoughtfully.
"So how about we study this book together from now on? I'm just Cheongryong Mugwan's literature teacher, but I pride myself on my deep insights into new styles."
Her face filled with reverence and gratitude, she bowed deeply once more.
"Indeed... Hearing your profound analysis clears the thick fog before my eyes. Please continue teaching me about writing."
It was the historic moment my grand scam succeeded perfectly. From now on, she'd consult me first about this book. Sunshine finally seemed to grace my murim survival saga.
"And thanks to your guidance, Teacher, one of my worries is gone."
Worry? A chill suddenly gripped me.
"Worry...? What kind?"
Cold sweat trickled unpleasantly down my spine as I stammered. My voice trembled pathetically, but the genius girl before me sparkled with shining eyes. She clenched her fists proudly and continued.
"Truth be told, last night, with the Mu-rim-meng matter bringing Father to Nakyang, I earnestly pleaded with him. To mobilize every ounce of the family's intelligence network and manpower to tightly surveil every print shop and headquarters of Danga Sangdan in Nakyang City!"
"Hngh...!"
A deflating gasp escaped me. I hurriedly covered my mouth, pretending to cough.
Just last night, after barely meeting a brutal deadline, I'd clutched the Volume 4 manuscript bundle and headed to Danga Sangdan's headquarters.
If—and God forbid—this clever, tenacious girl had begged for that terrifying surveillance not last night, but the night before?
Crazy... I'd have been nabbed for sure!
Last night, as I crossed Danga Sangdan's threshold, dozens of murim experts might have already woven their net behind me.
And if I weren't having this hellish chat with her today? Oblivious, I'd have skipped merrily to Danga Sangdan in six days with the next manuscript, advanced a day early for Volume 5's deadline. Waiting wouldn't be loan sharks, but Hwangbo Sega's encirclement hunting the author's identity.
Thank heavens. Ancestors must be watching over me.
Legs trembling, I barely held it together, sighing inwardly with mad relief. Learning the enemy's perfect ambush timing and position through this chat had saved my neck twice over.
But my shallow relief shattered at Hwangbo Suyeon's next innocent words.
"And Father, hearing my desperate plea, said he'd personally request the Beggars' Sect and Lower Five Gates too."
Insane. As expected, Hwangbo Daeryeok's doting love for his golden daughter transcended imagination.
She'd barely whined mid-martial training about finding a mysterious novelist, and he mobilizes murim's two great intelligence networks? What scale!
It's over... My murim life ends here.
Not even a stray kitten around Danga Sangdan could slip their dense net. Me, a lowly mugwan literature teacher, sneaking in with a thick Volume 5 manuscript hidden? Might as well tie a noose and turn myself in.
"With such a meticulous, colossal heavenly net spread, that mysterious author delivering the next manuscript to Danga Sangdan's print shops will soon have their identity revealed!"
Absolutely, I thought. Not just revealed—they'd be stripped to the bone and captured alive.
Facing my despairing expression, Hwangbo Suyeon suddenly furrowed her brow, lost in thought.
"However..."
She sighed regretfully and continued.
"My one concern was this: that great author might hide their brilliant talents and evade us ordinary warriors to fool our eyes."
She had a point. But I'm no absolute expert—just a pathetic modern guy who picked up the pen fleeing debt collectors. I evade because I have zero skills, not to hide them.
"But now, I'm not worried."
Her eyes gleamed madly as she stared at me. Instinctively, I stepped back.
"Because you're here, Teacher. When word comes that Father found the author, come meet them with me. Verify their talents."
But I am the author?
"Teacher! Doesn't your heart race and blood boil already? At this momentous encounter, I'll seat you front and center first!"
This is spiraling... Should I come clean before it blows up bigger?