Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

As soon as Lady Es left the parlor, Isolette entered the room.

She stared blankly at the door for a moment before sitting across from him as usual, resting her chin in her hand.

“I guess I was a little late, wasn’t I?”

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to be the first one here… well, I suppose it can’t be helped.”

Lady Es and Isolette—was being the “first” that important to them?

Clicking her tongue as if disappointed, Isolette took an envelope from her bosom and handed it to him. She spoke in a simple, nonchalant tone.

“A fan letter.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm… Still, you know I’m your first fan, right? Since we were kids… no, from way back then.”

“Pfft, yeah, that’s true.”

“Back then, we were both so young… Looking back on it now, isn’t it kind of amazing?”

“Hmm?”

Suddenly, Isolette flashed a mischievous smile.

That smile felt oddly familiar. Resting her chin delicately on her hand, squinting with a playful gleam in her eyes as she looked up at him—there was something so familiar about that smile.

It was incredibly familiar.

“To think there’s someone out there who could fall in love with someone as clueless as you.”

“…….”

“Right, senior?”

“…….”

At that moment.

He wasn’t sure what emotions he felt. Maybe he was so surprised that his mind went blank. Or maybe he was so frightened that goosebumps prickled all over his skin.

The confusion was overwhelming, making it feel as though his memory had been wiped clean.

Whatever expression he made must have unsettled Isolette, because she gave an awkward laugh, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“…Pfft, I’m joking. I read something like that in a novel once—it was so striking that I just had to mimic it.”

“…….”

“Did it seem a little real?”

“…….”

“Wow, you got so startled. How are you going to manage being this naïve….”

“…….”

“…….”

“…….”

“…You know, I used to have dreams sometimes. I think it started, hmm, not long after we parted ways when we were kids. Every night, I’d fall asleep reading those fairy tales you wrote for me…. It was a strange dream. So strange that I’d forget about it almost immediately after waking up.”

“…….”

“But right as I woke up from that dream, it always felt so vivid. I think, on the mornings after I had that dream, I’d say this to myself.”

“…….”

“I dreamed the same dream again.”

“Sigh…”

In the end, he let out a long sigh, heavy with too many emotions.

Holding his throbbing head, he couldn’t help but ask.

“After I died…”

“Hmm?”

“After I died… what happened to you?”

.

.

.

What kind of conversation he had with Isolette after that, he couldn’t quite recall.

His mind had gone entirely blank, leaving him to ask question after question without pause.

According to Isolette’s “dream,” after his death, she had collected, organized, and edited all of his translated works and published them.

She had written a preface for all the works, explaining that they were translations left behind by the senior she deeply respected before his passing.

This gained some attention in online communities, and because of that, the translated works he had left behind sold well.

Thanks to the success, the publisher grew in size, eventually expanding from public domain translations to acquiring the rights to foreign bestsellers for translation.

And.

After becoming the chief editor of the publishing house, she resigned shortly after finishing the task of organizing his works.

That was where Isolette’s dream had ended.

“…….”

“Ed…?”

He couldn’t meet her gaze. With his eyes closed, he replayed her story in his mind.

As the world grew darker around him, his thoughts became a little clearer.

“…….”

“Huh…?”

What could she have been thinking while organizing his works in the world after his death?

He still didn’t know.

Human emotions were something he struggled to comprehend. The more he tried to imagine them on his own, the deeper he seemed to sink into an endless labyrinth.

He didn’t understand people.

“…….”

“You… right now…”

He couldn’t feel even half the emotions from people that he felt from literature.

He couldn’t love people even half as much as he loved literature.

He couldn’t mourn people even half as deeply as literature had comforted his sorrow.

“…….”

“Are you… crying? Huh…?”

So Isolette saying that he was “crying” had to be an outright lie.

The handkerchief she placed in his hand, too.

The damp streaks staining his vision.

None of it could be tears.

“…….”

When he didn’t take the handkerchief from her, Isolette wiped his eyes herself.

Without saying a word, for a long time.

In the silence of the parlor, the sound of the handkerchief brushing his skin was the only noise.

As the handkerchief moved, her fingertips grazed his cheek.

It was soft.

Whether it was the handkerchief that was soft or Isolette’s fingertips, he wasn’t sure.

For a long while, he let the silence comfort him.

He opened his mouth several times, his lips trembling, and after numerous attempts, he finally managed to speak.

“…Thank you, Isolette.”

“It’s my pleasure, Ed.”

.

.

.

After Isolette, a few more fan letters and a couple of visitors came to see him.

Among the visitors was the Chief Mage of the Magic Tower.

“You say you saw a connection from a past life in your dreams…? Hmm… fascinating. It’s not entirely impossible, I think….”

“Is that so?”

“The twin communication magic of the Blue Magic Tower works on a similar principle…. Things that resemble each other tend to align… which is why twins can share memories or willpower and even use telepathic magic sometimes….”

“Hmm.”

“On a different note… in the Red Magic Tower, they say that if two entities interact with the ‘same subject’ in the ‘same way,’ it creates magical equivalence…. Apparently, in ancient times, rituals were based on this principle…. So, by establishing similar interactions and relationships with someone, you could theoretically extract that person’s memories… or something like that….”

“Is that right?”

“Actually, I don’t really know….”

“Excuse me?”

“It could just be a random dream…. Or it could be your brain misinterpreting things by assembling fragmented memories…. After all, even the fundamental axioms of the Purple Magic Tower are based on the idea that the human mind is incomplete and prone to mistaking one thing for another…. Dreams hold meaning precisely because they aren’t reality….”

“…….”

“Still… it was an intriguing story. Feel free to visit me whenever you have questions….”

As always, with her lazy voice and panda-like eyes accentuated by dark circles, the Chief Mage confidently declared:

“I am the Chief Mage, after all….”

“Ah, yes….”

.

.

.

After the tumultuous days had passed,

Life eventually returned to its usual rhythm.

When it came to literature, the novel “Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World” had given rise to a new genre in the Empire: “light novels.”

Similar to the pulp fiction of heroic fantasy, the genre was lighter in tone and focused more on character-driven stories.

Spin-offs like “Surviving as a Chef in Another World” and “Surviving as a Board Game Creator in Another World” also emerged.

In addition to these, there were other significant changes, the biggest being the widespread “writing culture.”

Thanks to the Homer Foundation’s consistent support for writing, statistics showed that over 30% of the Empire’s citizens now owned books published under their names.

This marked a step toward achieving his goal of creating a “publication-centered society.”

Moreover, the existing children’s welfare foundation transferred its rights to the royal family, restructuring the system to ensure universal child welfare.

As a result, he set an unprecedented record of donating “wealth equivalent to half of the Empire’s value,” a feat unlikely to be surpassed even after hundreds of years.

Of course, the Homer Foundation retained oversight over the children’s welfare foundation, and most of the previous staff continued working there, so he still effectively controlled the foundation.

In addition to that,

The Imperial Academy was separated from the newly established “Homer Literary Academy,” a massive institution dedicated solely to literary education.

This literary academy, structured like a library, was filled with every piece of literature he remembered from his previous life.

In other words, tens of thousands of works from Earth.

He included “Translator’s Notes” detailing the historical context of Earth and the settings in which those works were created.

These works served as teaching materials for literature classes, and the competition rate for admission to the Homer Literary Academy consistently broke records.

As the Empire’s brightest minds graduated from the academy, literature naturally became inseparably intertwined with mainstream culture.

Even after hundreds of years, literature was likely to remain at the heart of the Empire’s culture.

Thus,

Most of the things he had wished for had been achieved.

In a traditional story, this might be the point where the protagonist says, “I’ve accomplished everything, and I can die without regrets,” and smiles as they pass away.

But unfortunately, he had achieved all of this far too young.

Which is why this story ends like this:

“My son, so when are you planning to get married?”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t you think it’s about time you started worrying about marriage?”

“…I’ll think about it slowly.”

“As your father, I don’t think marrying a cousin would be such a bad idea. Of course, these days, there are many reasons people are reluctant, but back in the day, it was quite common.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh my, Ed, I rather like that Lady Es. How confident she is….”

“Excuse me?”

[Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World – The End]

[Afterword]

The end of “Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World”!

A story that’s both long and short has now come to a close.

Even though this is the afterword, I feel like I’ll need to write side stories or other content. (I doubt readers would let me off the hook if I ended it like this.)

As I mentioned in the author’s notes a few chapters ago, this novel was inspired by “Game Developer in Another World.”

To briefly summarize “Game Developer in Another World,” it’s a novel with the concept of [plagiarizing Tetris and other classic games in another world to make money].

After reading that novel, I thought, “What if we applied this concept of ‘cultural victory in another world’ to literature?”

And that’s how “Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World” began.

The theme of this novel is, “Classics remain worth reading regardless of how much time passes or how the world changes.”

It’s a belief I hold dearly.

Of course, separate from the intrinsic value of literature, the success and popularity of literature depend on the social context of the era.

There are novels like “The Great Gatsby” that saw no success during the author’s lifetime, while others became instant hits upon publication.

So, I needed a historical backdrop where the “novel” could succeed.

After some thought, I concluded that using an actual historical setting would be the most convincing approach.

A period when “chivalric literature” was popular—essentially, the Renaissance.

This was an era when people loved chivalric tales, which meant “Don Quixote” was bound to succeed.

After all, Don Quixote is “the last chivalric novel.”

Anyone who loves chivalric literature can’t help but adore Don Quixote….

Most of the episodes in this novel stem from such “motifs.”

Real historical events, characters in the featured novels, the themes or incidents of those works, or even anecdotes about the authors themselves—all served as inspiration.

Each of these motifs was adapted to fit the theme of the respective episode.

Even beyond what’s directly revealed, countless works provided inspiration, and I think spotting these “motifs” can be part of the fun of reading this novel.

(Sometimes, when readers identify the titles of works I drew from in the comments, it brings me joy. There are many famous nonfiction works, columns, and essays as well.)

While writing this novel and reading readers’ comments, I realized that many people still deeply love literature.

I was only able to complete this novel thanks to all of you.

As long as people like you who enjoy literature remain, I believe literature will never fade away and will continue to thrive.

If I could share one wish, it would be for you to write your own stories.

There are no limits to literature.

There’s no set form, no required qualifications.

Literature can adapt to new environments, like web novels, or take the form of essays that comfort modern readers weary from life.

You, too, can become a writer.

On platforms like Nobelpia, anyone can become a writer by simply clicking the “Register New Novel” button.

I support your journey in literature.