737 - The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

"Kang Gong Ja Nim, the carriage is ready." "I'll be right out." Like a detective donning a trench coat and readying a pipe, I grabbed my folding fan and draped on a duruma-gi. An attire distinct from the traditional garb of the Central Plains. Yet, it didn’t matter. An unconventional outfit only added to the mystique. A detective from Joseon. Even a banal word can sound different when spoken by a detective, turning trivial deductions into awe-inspiring insights. While my skill might not be notable, this was my way of presenting myself before others. "Ju In, your knot." As I was about to rush out, Ga Young blocked my path and pointed to my untied garment knot. "The knot? Ah, I might have to just tie it roughly and go." "Let me do it." Ga Young gave my garment a long, steady gaze before speaking with an expressionless face. "Ga Young, you?" "Yes, I can do it." Is this an innate instinct of a maid who cannot stand to see her master’s disheveled appearance? Ga Young seemed unable to look away, her gaze firmly nailed to my untied knot. Ga Young. I don’t have a reason to refuse, but... There was something I really wanted to say to Ga Young as she approached to tie my knot. "Ga— Ga Young? Why did you loosen the front?" It was visible. A dizzying abyss was approaching. Despite her expressionless face, it was evident, and undoubtably enticing. What on earth is going on here? Ga Young’s regular attire is unremarkable, of course. I understand the need for a dedicated outfit, but I'm not willing to risk being experimented on by the Si Wang Elder. Why is her front undone? Did she forget to fasten it after dressing herself? "Are you trying to make me aware?" "Make you aware? Who taught you that?" Did she do it on purpose? When I asked with a puzzled expression, Ga Young’s gaze momentarily aimed at the empty air. "Oh. Well. It's common sense that a master would be curious about his exclusive maid." "Sinner... Kang Yoon Ho..." I’ve never once thought about burying my face in those pristine, vast, and seemingly soft breasts. Honestly, where did this all go wrong? "Do you like what you see?" Like? Very much so. I had to desperately suppress the answer that was on the verge of slipping out. "Ahem! A young girl should not carelessly leave the front of her attire open." "Only for the master to see." Ga Young. Whoever taught you has done quite the job. Though I wanted to shower her with praise for the direct and precise fastball she delivered with a stoic face, I chose to turn my gaze to preserve a semblance of dignity. "For a while now, you’ve been disappearing right after breakfast each morning. Is something going on?" "I'm undergoing special training." "Are you learning something separately from the Si Wang Elder?" "Something like that." Is she learning how to control her body with her martial prowess? Ga Young was wholly focused on my garment, mind unbothered by my curiosity. Watching a striking beauty put her full attention on me brings forth emotions difficult to grow accustomed to. "At first, you couldn't control your strength and broke dishes. Now you’re able to tie knots." Unable to hold back the ticklish feeling, I spoke with a proud voice. "Oh." My garment knot burst. "Or maybe not." "Would you like to leave your front open too, Ju In?" "It seems a change of clothes is in order before stepping out." An inexperienced maid she may remain, yet, seeing her efforts still drew a smile to my lips. —— “Welcome. I am the head of Jin Yeom Bang.” “I am Kang Yoon Ho from Mang Geum Jeon Jang.” When I knocked on the door of Jin Yeom Bang, the master, who was said to be bedridden after having an heirloom stolen, rushed out. “To think I’d meet a detective in real life! As an avid reader of Je Gal Seol Lok, I’m truly moved." "Father! Just because a major misfortune has befallen us, you can’t be this hasty!" His son, perhaps? The man with the same hair color as his father shot back at the head with a brusque voice. "You brat! Show some respect to our guest!" "Fine, do as you will. I have an appointment and must be off." "Where does the firstborn son think he's going when our heirloom has been stolen?” The eldest son, perhaps. Although I've built a reputation, disdain and prejudice against black hair haven’t disappeared entirely. How could the eldest son of Jin Yeom Bang accept assistance from someone with black hair? His gaze, brimming with dissatisfaction, naturally fell upon me. "I have an important appointment that can’t be canceled." "Meeting a courtesan must be a crucial appointment indeed. By all means, hurry along." Of course, I had no intention of remaining silent under his disdainful gaze. "What?! How, how did you?" "Now, how would I know?" "Could this be the deduction I’ve only heard about?” Merely an investigation, rumored to be deduction. I couldn’t rely solely on Ga Young’s skills. Your name was neatly penned on the reservation list at the gisaeng house. "Indeed, a detective! Where do you think you’re going?” "I'm late!" With a startled glance, the eldest son of Jin Yeom Bang looked my way a few times before hastily taking his leave as if fleeing. "Forgive me. My first son is quite the free spirit. This here is my second son, who discovered the storeroom had been burglarized.” So the one standing pale-faced in the back all this while was the second son of the house. “I’ve told Father everything. I’m feeling ill, so I shall retire early.” The second son, clutching his abdomen, also disappeared promptly. "Spending all day in the privy again, is he? I wonder when that boy's stomach troubles will cease.” "Seems your second son is quite unwell." "He neglects his studies, staying cooped up in the house, obsessing over pursuits besides what he ought to do. Unlike his brother, who uses his youthful energy for romantic pursuits, tsk tsk tsk." No wonder the information on the second son was sparse. "Why don’t we start by examining the scene? Ga Young, would you like to have some tea while you wait?” “Yes, I'll get ready." Even after concluding greetings casually, you can't reveal the culprit immediately. Some time must be allowed. While Ga Young strikes a deal with the ghost supposedly hiding within the house, I shall amuse the head with a performance befitting a detective. “There was a burglar in our treasure storeroom. We reported it to the authorities, but the perpetrator and even the whereabouts of the stolen goods remain elusive.” “Hmm.” I stood in front of the treasury, pausing as if I'd discovered something significant, furrowing my brow like a detective hot on a trail. “What's the matter?” “There are two guards, assigned to watch the entrance of the treasury at night, but not during the day.” "W-How do you know that?! You could discern that just by looking?" I pointed at the ground with my fan, as if it were of no consequence. "I see many identical footprints near the entrance. It suggests that the same person lingered there without a purpose, implying a guard stood watch. There’s no guard during the day, so it must be guarded only at night." "Exactly right! As expected...!" This is the kind of reliable information you get from Hao Mun San. When you have cheat sheets in hand, it’s easier to piece things together. It was simple: the guards supposedly watched the treasury entrance. Take that readily available information and match it with evidence on site, making it seem like credible deduction. "How many have entered the treasury since the theft?" "My second son, who discovered it first, and myself. No one else besides Total Officer." "Not quite what I imagined." I expected a gleaming treasury brimming with treasure. But the treasury that Gaju showed contained not the shimmer of precious metals, but the scent of aged ink. What adorned the walls were scrolls and paintings—gracefully hung calligraphy and art. “Our ancestors had deep insights in painting and calligraphy. Though we specialize in dye these days, we used to trade pigments for paints." ZHFFaHg0NTVMUERqTnhDNTdpRkczZTc2SUQ1TXhpSXFwdnlGQUgrdlA5M0taY1ViRVg1SXZkTG9wMjFQUDlETA "Quite a proud lineage indeed." More like an art gallery than a treasury. While I’m not an expert in scrolls, the allure of these masterpieces was enough to ensnare anyone. "It might have been better to stockpile gold and silver..." A voice tinged with regret murmured. "Pardon?" “Oh, nothing.” "What exactly was stolen?” “A masterpiece my late grandfather struggled to acquire as he traveled across the Central Plains. It originally hung in that spot over there.” In the deepest part of the scroll-filled treasury. A place reserved solely for one masterpiece now lay empty, the original occupant gone, leaving only an imprint of absence. "It's impressively uncluttered." “My second son occasionally visits to admire paintings, and it was gone when he came by one morning. Though guards keep watch every night, and we regularly inspect the treasury, there's no window for a thief to get in, save one vent. Yet it vanished in a moment." "Hmm." "Can you deduce anything?" ‘No, I have no idea.’ Even though a hopeful gaze met mine, the only truth inside me was uncertainty. In a murder scene, at least one can find blood. But how does one trace evidence of a burglary? ‘Let’s just perform the detective act while Ga Young prepares.’ Even a small clue would suffice. Kang Yoon Ho solved the case through deduction. Acting trustworthy enough will do the trick. Diligently scouring the premises, a welcome mark caught my eye on a small vent. "It involves an artist's tube." "Artist's tube?" “A long bamboo cylinder, perfect for rolling and storing a painting.” “That does ring a bell.” "The dust by the vent has been disturbed. It seems the thief rolled the painting, placed it in the artist's tube, and lowered it through the small window." A quick wipe around the dust confirmed its recent marks. "Y-You deduced that from the disturbed dust?" Gaju was amazed by the detective’s keen observations, though I could hardly hold back a bitter smile. ‘Truth is, I used to pilfer paintings too.’ Mu Yeong Sin Tu—a trick often employed by Ha Yeon So Jeo. I recognized the marks from our staged scenes mimicking famous detectives and lawmen. Seems someone else had the same thought process. Unable to explain, I could only shrug like an overly self-assured detective. “It’s elementary deduction.” “Ha ha! As expected of a renowned detective!” ——— ‘Is Ga Young still not ready?’ Despite thoroughly inspecting the surroundings, no evidence stands out. What now? To stall until Ga Young arrives, I engaged Gaju in conversation. “Besides the artwork, is anything else missing?” "Only that particular masterpiece was stolen." "How strange. Paintings, being compact, allow for multiple heists." If connected to the right black marketeer, fencing them as cash is feasible. "Even the entirety of this treasury holds less value than the stolen masterpiece. The thief ignored everything else." "Is the missing piece really that valuable?" Even the remaining scrolls seemed quite precious. Given Gaju's evident pride, how extraordinary the missing painting must be. “Indeed! It's a piece from the renowned painter Ban 화백.” “Ban 화백?” "Don't tell me you’ve never heard of the acclaimed Ban 화백." "Being Joseonese, I’m not well-versed in Central Plains artists." In Confucianist Joseon, emphasis is more on calligraphy than paintings. When mentioning greats, Wang Xizhi and Han Seok-bong pop up, seldom naming painters. Why is he looking at me so incredulously? “Not knowing the painter Ban Go Hu... but I suppose being Joseonese, that explains it.” It took me a moment to piece it together. “Are you referring to... Van Gogh?” “Precisely! Van Go Hu! The stolen piece is one of Van Go Hu’s series, Sunflowers!” Where do I even begin to correct this? I could only pinch my throbbing temple, at a loss with the absurdity.