The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

Chapter 39: The Black-Haired Storyteller’s Strategy (3)

Chapter 39: The Black-Haired Storyteller’s Strategy (3)

Childhood friend.

Just hearing the word brought a ticklish feeling.

It was a perfect setting for adding plausibility to romance stories and a powerful heroine trait in harem narratives, though it often signaled a losing flag.

I, too, had a childhood friend during my elementary school days.

Back then, I lived in a quiet neighborhood with aging houses and villas, not in a city filled with apartments like today.

In those days, there wasnt much to see or do. What could a child in such a quiet neighborhood play with?

Whenever I went to the playground at the same time, kids I had seen the day before would be there, as if by unspoken agreement.

We would play until dusk and then part ways. I had a childhood friend with whom I used to play.

A girl a year younger who lived next door. Her parents were both working, so she often spent the evenings alone. She was my childhood friend.

We played many games together: house, square ball, other ball games, air games, and building snowmen.

Of course, having a childhood friend didnt mean our relationship developed like in the cartoons.

We played together until elementary school, but as we grew older and went through puberty, we gradually grew distant.

Wed just greet each other if we bumped into each other at the local market. After I moved, we lost touch completely.

Thinking about it now, it might have been during puberty when my facial features started to really come into their own, disrupting our individuality. If I had been better looking, would the memory have turned into an ongoing connection?

Anyway, it was a distant memory from childhood. I couldnt remember the face or voice of my childhood friend, but the memories lingered.

Now, I just needed to transplant that face and voice onto the Heavenly Death Star. Were now childhood friends who used to play together in the neighborhood.

My childhood friend, wherever you were, I shall replace those memories with the Heavenly Death Star! Thanks!

Dont lie.

Cheon Sohee spoke to me with an expressionless face. However, upon closer inspection, I detected slight cracks in her facade. She seemed a bit shaken.

Sohee, what lie are you talking about?

I cant have an older brother.

Haha. Sohee, do you think Im your real brother? Youre overthinking it. Im Kang Yun-ho, the older brother you used to play with, not Cheon Yun-ho.

I clarified, just in case. A family setup would be problematic. She might remember having a family in her scant memories.

I was not your family. I was the older brother you used to play house with.

This was the most fundamental setup that had to be firmly established. If this initiation failed, it was all over. Please dont outright deny it.

Please let it work. Let it work.

I cant have had an older brother to play with

Good! She was unsure. Thats right. You hardly have any memories of the past. You cant be certain.

Dont you remember playing with me when you were young? We played square ball and your favorite, the air game. Despite being older, I always lost to you at air games.

I was terrible at air games. My younger childhood friend always won. As a child, it frustrated me so much that I even practiced at home, but I still always lost.

I gazed at the Heavenly Death Star with nostalgia.

I dont remember that.

Cheon Sohee responded gruffly. My wistful eyes rendered the Heavenly Death Star slightly uneasy.

Its okay. I was accustomed to that look. Ive received worse.

Sohee. Actually, I want to ask you. That day, when the Japanese pirates attacked your village, all the villagers died. How did you survive? And whats with your current condition? I thought you were dead, yet here you are in the Central Plains?

If the setup had taken hold, it was now my chance to counterattack. By mentioning the events of that day, I pressed Cheon Sohee.

I dont want to talk about it.

Cheon Sohees expressionless face crinkled. Her furrowed eyebrows showed her reluctance to remember that painful day.

Cheon Sohees Achilles heel was the memory of the day when all the villagers perished, a shock so profound that she lost most of her past memories.

Im sorry. That memory must be too painful for you. I was too insensitive.

I averted my gaze from Cheon Sohee, staring at the ground with pursed lips. The room sank into a brief silence, laden with the weight of painful recollections.

Yet for me, it wasnt actually a painful memory.

Okay. I accept that you were a person from our village.

It worked.

As I suspected, it was a convincing ruse.

Now, lets shake hands and part ways. It was pleasant meeting an old neighbor, wasnt it?

Time to return to my main job. Ill be active in Hubei Province for a while, so you just operate in other provinces, okay?

Sohee. Do you finally remember me, your older brother?

No. I understand that you stayed in our village. But if we were that close, I would have remembered you.

She wasnt easily convinced.

That was a fair point. Even with most of her memories lost, someone that significant should have lingered in some recess of her mind. But it seemed that I was absent from her memories.

If I continued to speak of past memories and she recalled nothing, her suspicion was warranted. It would indeed be strange to warmly greet and bid farewell to someone who claimed to know your parents, especially after suffering a blow to the back of the head.

The root of Cheon Sohees suspicion was ultimately one thing:

Her own memory.

With most of her past memories nebulous, she couldnt be certain of her own recollections. She only trusted what was clear in her mind.

Yet Cheon Sohee had no indubitable memories.

The character Cheon Sohee had lost the majority of her childhood memories.

Consequently, that was precisely why Cheon Sohee treasured her past so fervently.

The cherished memories that remained were vigilantly safeguarded in the depths of Cheon Sohees heart. She placed unwavering faith in those memories.

Being so precious, she couldnt help but question the presence of someone outside those memories who claimed to be part of her past.

No matter how much I insisted we were childhood friends in front of her, she wouldnt believe it.

It didnt matter whether I actually played square ball, air games, or squid games with Cheon Sohee. Whether true or not, if they werent in her memories, they didnt matter.

Because her memories were too certain.

Or rather, she believed they were certain.

So, Cheon Sohee.

The memories you held.

The memories you considered precious.

I was about to drop a bomb into those memories.