Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

< Chapter 4: Don Quixote >

The ending of the novel “Don Quixote” is a sad one.

Captured by ideals and madness, Don Quixote—old man Quixano—firmly believed himself to be a ‘knight’. Awakening from his delusion, he contracts a ‘mental illness’ called ‘reality’, leading to a powerless death. Those who tried to ‘cure’ Don Quixote are now in a position where they must beg him to believe in dreams once again.

As is often the case with those weary of reality and relinquishing their dreams, there are various interpretations of this ending. Some say it symbolizes the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of modernity, while others believe Cervantes ended the story in two parts to prevent any more ‘trashy fake sequels’, suffering from pirated versions.

However, the important thing was not the interpretation.

The important thing was:

“The world is going mad, who could be sane? Being too sane is madness!”

“Let’s honor Don Quixote! Dream the impossible dream!”

“Let’s catch the stars in the sky! Fight unbeatable foes, and throw ourselves into unbearable suffering!”

* * *

There’s no ending that emphasizes obsession more than the death of the protagonist.

The noise of people marching outside the window was deafening.

People dressed as medieval errant knights marching through the streets. They were all readers overly absorbed in ‘Don Quixote’, causing a disturbance in the streets with a tombstone bearing Don Quixote’s epitaph.

Even the guards, who should have been maintaining order, were either ignoring or joining the chaos.

“It’s a good thing they’re not trying to blackmail the author like Sherlock did.”

“Lord, who is Sherlock?”

“A nasty-tempered drug-addicted detective.”

“If Lord knows him, he must be a very capable detective.”

“Definitely skilled.”

Later, I’d like to ‘plagiarize’ a mystery novel from my original world.

Given that magic exists so blatantly in this world, I’ll need to put more effort into research… but now that I think about it, writing a mystery novel might be challenging.

“Sion.”

“Yes, Lord Ed.”

“How is the draft of the copyright law coming along?”

“Currently, Lord Ed has written a letter to the parliament himself. Many of the members of the parliament are avid readers of Don Quixote, so there should be no difficulties in passing the legislation.”

Despite the headache caused by the overly enthusiastic readers, the drafting of the ‘copyright law’ aimed for with the publication of Don Quixote Part II was progressing smoothly.

This solved the most troubling issue.

Of course, in some autonomous regions and kingdoms where the empire’s law does not reach, pirated versions would still circulate… but that was beyond what I could control.

“Once the copyright law takes hold, we’ll be able to see even more interesting works.”

“…Lord Ed.”

“Yes?”

“But if this copyright law takes effect, wouldn’t it mean that we can’t see any more fun works that follow Don Quixote? Isn’t that a bit contrary to your goals, Lord?”

Sion’s question initially struck me as absurd, but I soon nodded, acknowledging the inevitable.

This must be the average perception of people in this era.

After all, I myself had read hundreds of chivalric romances and written Don Quixote, which could be considered a masterpiece of ‘chivalric literature’. There are definitely readers who think, ‘If it’s fun, isn’t that enough, even if it’s plagiarism?’

“Well, mass-produced novels have their own kind of fun, too. If you’re familiar with clichés, you can read them more comfortably with less concentration, and ‘being genre-specific’ in itself is a part of ‘sameness’ after all.”

“Then, doesn’t preventing plagiarism ultimately reduce the number of novels we can read?”

“Sion. Do you know the saying, ‘There is nothing new under the sun’?”

“It’s from the Bible… Ecclesiastes, right?”

“It seems you haven’t been negligent in your religious duties. Just like that saying, ultimately, every ‘work’ can only be an imitation of another.”

I picked up a book that was lying on the bedside table.

It was a first edition of Don Quixote Part I, directly received from the publishers. Back then, the publishing house was small, so not many first editions were printed. The value of these first editions had skyrocketed, and if sold, it could fetch ten gold coins.

“For instance, this Don Quixote mimics the structure of ‘chivalric literature’, but does that mean ‘Don Quixote’ plagiarized other knightly novels?”

“I think… not.”

“Right?”

A healthy creative environment is not something else.

It’s when creators legally protect their rights to their creations, and a social atmosphere that recognizes those rights is established. That alone gives the seed of inspiration limitless vitality.

“Some will twist themselves to avoid plagiarism, and others will burn with inspiration to create something new that has never existed before. The results may not be entirely new, and might even turn out immature and flawed.”

“…”

“But, I believe that all these ‘attempts’ will become new sources of inspiration for writers and bloom in the history of literature.”

As Don Quixote said—

“To attain the impossible, one must attempt the impossible. If everyone makes the same attempts, then the results will inevitably be the same.”

“Lord Ed, you are like Don Quixote.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Of course.”

Like Don Quixote.

In truth, I cannot be an idealist like Don Quixote. The future I dream of is, after all, a future that ‘previous lives’ of humanity have already tread—a feasible future.

That’s why I can be so confident, knowing the outcomes.

In that sense, I am—

“More akin to Sancho in taste.”

“Sancho…? Yes, Lord, you have always favored Sancho.”

Following ideals always comes with a dose of reality.

The future I envision will not be different. I may not have the creativity to conjure something entirely new, but I do have the enthusiasm to pursue the ideals of a ‘previous life.’

“Sancho is worldly, isn’t he? And very human. Don’t you think he suits me?”

“To be honest, if I were to name the person least connected to worldly affairs, it would be you, Lord Ed. I’ve only ever seen you buried in books.”

“Oh, Sion, you haven’t seen all sides of me yet?”

“There’s more?”

Cynical and filled with secularism, I lived through the cutting edge of capitalism in the 21st century.

I can’t just sit quietly receiving such assessments.

“Grab my coat. We’re going out.”

“Where to, Lord?”

“I’ve made a lot with royalties, so it’s time to spend some money.”

I declared a grand flex, stepping out with Sion.

“Lord Ed, should I just put the books here?”

“…”

We ended up buying just a few books and bookmarks and returned home.

I really don’t have many hobbies, do I…n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

* * *

Dorling Kindersley had received an urgent call and visited the publishing house.

Then, she heard a strange sound.

“…Uh, boss. I think I might have heard wrong… Who sent the invitation?”

“Prince Idris, the third!”

“He sent me an invitation?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s a fan of author Homer!”

As indicated by the title of third prince, Idris is of royal blood.

Though he’s at the bottom of the succession line, he still holds the dignified right to everything within the empire.

And he’s seeking me out? Just a little-known author whose book happens to sell well?

“This is a great opportunity! If you make a good impression now, you might even get the royal endorsement for your next book!”

“Um, hold on. Let me think….”

“Oh, right! I got too excited, hehe….”

Alright, let’s sum this up.

The empire’s third prince has invited me because he’s a fan of my ‘Don Quixote.’

It’s surprising, but when you think about it, it’s not too odd. Someone of his stature could invite an author without much trouble.

The important thing is whether I should accept this invitation….

“…If I decline the invitation, would it harm Kindersley Publishing?”

“You’re thinking of declining?”

“Uh, to be honest, it feels a bit daunting. I’m hesitant to show my face at official functions. I’d rather keep my pen name and personal life separate.”

“Ah, then I’ll decline it.”

“…Really?”

Is it that simple to decide?

“Our priority is your wishes, author. If it’s even slightly inconvenient for you, we must firmly decline.”

“But, could the royal household retaliate or something?”

“Um, honestly, it’s fifty-fifty. If Prince Idris is magnanimous, there will be no problem; if he’s petty, then it could be an issue.”

He’s so nonchalantly depending on the other party’s mood.

Making it sound like nothing only confuses me more.

“Just focus on your writing, author. We’ll handle the rest.”

“I’m still not sure.”

“Hehe, at worst, you’ll just get your family line exterminated, right?”

That’s not something you can just brush off.

“Just trust me, author. I’ll make sure it doesn’t inconvenience you.”

“…Okay.”

Crushed by Dorling Kindersley’s fanatical zeal, I had no choice but to nod.

With her insisting like that, it must be okay to trust her.

…Right?

* * *

“So you are the author Homer.”

“Author, I’m sorry….”

Having declined the prince’s invitation, the prince himself had come to the publishing house.

Uh, is this a dream?