Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

Christmas.

A holiday commemorating the birth of the Savior.

Children expect presents, and adults enjoy the pleasures of a feast—thus, it is a grand festival in the church that comforts people with the joy of the Savior.

The reason I had sent the “Andersen Fairy Tales” to acquaintances on this holiday was due to my memories of ‘Christmas.’

Christmas was a day for children.

I thought it was quite a fitting day to give fairy tales as gifts.

“…What? The teachers at the foundation are teaching the children how to read and write?”

“Yes! Hehe, didn’t the author create the foundation for the children’s education? The teachers are all working with happy hearts.”

That was the news I heard from President Kindersley.

Of course, I knew about the foundation’s work since it was something I had established.

The foundation’s role was to support families and orphanages to prevent children from working, while providing them with education.

But—.

“But today is Christmas, isn’t it?”

“Hehe, the teachers at the foundation are all working happily, so it’s okay. There’s no Sabbath when it comes to helping people!”

“….”

Calling the children in to teach them on Christmas—was this really right?

Of course, it would be better than having them work.

In order to prevent child labor, the foundation had a policy where it provided financial support to families who sent their children to school.

I had lived in South Korea during the 21st century, where universal education was institutionalized and there was a high level of emphasis on education, but perhaps, for the children in this world, the opportunity to “learn” itself could be an enjoyable thing.

However, hmm.

I wasn’t so sure.

This world’s ‘Christmas’ and the ‘Christmas’ from my past life were nearly identical holidays in terms of cultural context, but they couldn’t be completely the same holiday.

“…President, what are your plans for today?”

“Well, let’s see? First, I’ll check the future publishing plans and business plans with the staff at the publishing house, and I’ll need to manage the rights you entrusted to me… Ah! If you’re asking about private plans, I’ll probably have dinner with my family and attend a Christmas mass at church.”

President Kindersley nonchalantly listed the day’s tasks while counting on his fingers.

After all, there were many people who were indifferent to church and faith these days.

Not everyone spent Christmas with their families and enjoyed a festive holiday.

In the parliament, the nobles were likely raising their voices and arguing, Lucia the illustrator probably had several commissions to fulfill, the Lazy King was still working, and everyone else was likely carrying out their roles as usual.

Even on Christmas.

Carolers didn’t fill the streets.

No, it seemed like there might have been some sound around church or orphanages, but it wasn’t a lively atmosphere.

The “Christmas spirit” that I remembered from my past life didn’t exist on this world’s Christmas.

It was quite a strange thing.

When I was still a child—well, when I had just been born into this world—I had a memory of being puzzled at how similar this world’s ‘Christmas culture’ was to my past life’s Christmas.

When I asked President Kindersley about this, he thought for a moment before responding.

“Ah! Yes, there was definitely a more festive atmosphere in the past… Hmm, in my case, since inheriting the publishing house, I’ve been too busy to pay much attention to it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! These days, being busy is considered a virtue, right?”

Being busy is a virtue.

Certainly, in this rapidly changing and turbulent era, being busy could indeed be seen as a virtue.

The faster a society changes, the more it promotes the idea that ‘working is a virtue’ to keep up with the pace, much like South Korea in my previous life after the ‘Miracle on the Han River.’

I know just how fast the changes in this world are happening.

Now, airplanes created by the Grey Magic Tower fly through the skies.

The White Magic Tower is installing telegraphs connecting key locations.

People walk around all day with newspapers or magazines in their hands.

Diplomatic ties between the Harren Kingdom and the Empire have been restored, leading to active exchanges between the two.

There are countless other changes taking place.

Thus, the saying “being busy is a virtue” seems to be a valid one.

Society was advancing so rapidly that it was hard to keep up without moving busily.

“…Still, it would be nice to rest, at least on Christmas.”

“Haha, are you worried about me? Thank you! Thanks to you, I feel energized, Author!”

President Kindersley smiled.

Now that I think about it, just as I’ve grown, President Kindersley has aged as well.

Back when I first came to Kindersley Publishing, she had the youthful air of someone just starting out.

Now, she looked like a seasoned manager.

“Still, it’s okay! Spreading your novels to the world is my mission! I’ll work so hard my bones break and my body shatters!”

“No, at that point, you should really rest….”

“It’s truly okay!”

President Kindersley wasn’t one to speak empty words.

As she often said she’d ‘work until her bones broke,’ she tirelessly worked day and night, carrying dark circles under her eyes that rivaled those of a Chief Mage.

And I was the culprit behind it.

It was President Kindersley’s role to spread the literature I plagiarized from my past life far and wide in this world.

Thinking about how many novels I had plagiarized in such a short time….

Clearly, it wasn’t a workload any single person could handle.

All the employees of Kindersley Publishing must have been working as relentlessly as President Kindersley.

“You’ll end up dying from overwork.”

“Come on, can working hard really kill someone? I’m doing this because I love it!”

“…….”

For some reason, those words felt familiar.

They were the very words I used to say every day in my past life.

“Senior! Did you stay overnight at the publishing house again yesterday without going home?!”

“Oh, huh? Ah, it’s already this late….”

“Senior, your eyes are really red right now…. I’m scared you’ll really just drop dead like that!”

“What do you mean ‘drop dead’?”

“I’m not joking!”

“Relax, I’m not going to die. It’s something I enjoy doing.”

“But you’ll die?! Do you know how many people die from overwork these days….”

“Come on, really? You’re just talking like that from some internet story, right? I don’t believe anything without a source.”

“Ugh…. Senior, you really seem like a crazy person.”

“You really don’t hold back with what you say to your senior.”

Looking back now, my junior was right.

If a person works too hard, they die.

It’s a bit funny to realize it only after dying, but anyway, since I was living a second life, I could feel these kinds of thoughts.

“…If you work too hard, you die.”

“Huh?”

“Now that I think about it, I think literature really needs Christmas.”

It wasn’t just President Kindersley who had this kind of thought.

In fact, most of the people living in this era, like President Kindersley, regarded hard work as a virtue.

Puritanical diligence is, of course, a force that propels society forward, but…

Even the Creator of this world worked for a whole week without rest to create the world. That’s why the day of rest is called the Sabbath.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

“Rest is the very starting point of culture. Countless novels, films, music, carols, works of art, and commercial marketing all revolve around Christmas…”

“Yes, Author? I don’t quite understand what you mean…”

It might be cultural invasion to transplant the ‘Christmas of my past life’ into this world, but if all these words about how people need rest aren’t enough to justify a cultural invasion, then…

I’ll just say it like usual.

It’s enough to say it like this.

“President.”

“Yes?”

“A novel based on Christmas… don’t you think it’s needed?”

“Well, if you write a new novel, I’d be very happy…”

“Then, starting tomorrow, you’ll be able to work as much as you want, and I’ll write you a true ‘masterpiece’ today, so just rest well for Christmas.”

“Huh?”

“Tell the employees to go home and rest too. Christmas should be spent with family.”

If it was a novel by Charles Dickens, it would definitely be considered a ‘masterpiece.’

And…

The novel I was planning to release in this world was the one that made Charles Dickens known as the ‘creator of Christmas’ in England.

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[Scrooge! A miserable old sinner who always torments others, swindles good people, scratches at others’ wounds, is cunning, wicked, greedy, and utterly vile! Scrooge’s appearance was as stiff as the coldness that had taken root in his soul.]

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.

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“Ah, young master. Were you working on a new novel?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Count said he’s prepared a Christmas dinner, so he insists that you must join us for dinner.”

“I’ll just finish this up, then—.”

“Young master.”

“Oh, Sion.”

“I know this may seem like an overstepping suggestion, but I hope you can relax a bit more, especially on Christmas.”

“…Okay.”