Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

The endless run, like a long marathon, had come to an end.

Everything I wanted to achieve was accomplished, and anything I wished to achieve could still be achieved.

Acknowledging that left me feeling regretful yet slightly empty—a strange mix of emotions that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Perhaps I was capable of leading a fairly ‘human’ life after all.

It wasn’t as if I had taken pride in my own life, but at the very least, I had enough passion to confidently say, “This is my life.”

However, even that energy was now completely exhausted.

In simpler terms, I had hit burnout.

Was it triggered by the story I heard from Isolette about my ‘past life’?

Or was it caused by my poorly written work about “Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World”?

So, I decided to go on a trip to lift my spirits.

After all, nothing refreshes the mind quite like traveling.

This is a truth proven by the anecdotes of several authors from my past life—like Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-up Bird Chronicle.

“So, you’re saying your sudden trip has nothing to do with wanting to escape the pressure to marry, Lord Ed?”

“Of course! When you spend too much time buried in books, you end up trapped in your own thoughts. Sometimes you just need a change of scenery.”

“…I understand.”

Sion gave me a look that seemed to say, Are you, the transcendent of literature, seriously saying this?

But he didn’t question me further.

A loyal attendant, as always.

For such reasons, I decided to visit the Seidel Republic as part of my travels.

I had heard that an alchemist resided here.

Since they mentioned showing me the alchemist’s workshop, it piqued my interest, and I decided to visit.

As we walked through the center of Seidel, Sion glanced around curiously.

“Seidel is quite a peculiar place.”

“Hm?”

“Typically, there would be a chapel in the city center. But here, the churches are hidden beyond alleyways. The people aren’t wearing rosaries or religious attire either. It’s my first time seeing a central district so devoid of traces of the church.”

“That’s because Seidel is a secular state. Even as a tourist, if you’re caught carrying a rosary in a public place, you’ll likely get scolded by a law enforcement officer.”

“Is it really that strict?”

“Apparently so. The Seidel Republic was founded by people who were politically persecuted by the church during the Empire’s early days. To ensure religion couldn’t interfere with politics, they excluded religion entirely from all political decision-making.”

The center of Seidel is a city of rationalists.

Even the lowest-class laborers here consider themselves enlightened and reasonable individuals.

Even if they are religious, their beliefs don’t significantly influence their decision-making.

To find traces of religion, you have to venture a bit farther out.

Once you exit the bustling main streets, pass through a few walled sections, and navigate a few alleys, you’ll find yourself in a tranquil area reminiscent of the countryside.

There, amidst the trees, stands a church made of red bricks.

I walked past the lined trees leading to the red-brick building and entered the church.

At the center of the deserted chapel, a woman sat with her eyes closed in prayer.

I slowly approached and sat beside her, waiting for her prayer to end.

After a few minutes, she finished and turned to bow her head slightly.

“Thank you for waiting….”

It was Mary Jane, the witch.

I opened my mouth to ask if witches also prayed in churches but closed it again, recalling the praying beastfolk.

Noticing my hesitation, Mary Jane spoke first.

“Does it seem strange that someone like me, who has been hunted as a witch, would pray in a church?”

“A little, yes.”

“I was praying for love…. The people of the church always say their Lord is the ‘Lord of Love.’ Even if those who tormented me are robbers following their god… the Lord’s words are gentle, so I prayed.”

“…….”

“Still, I couldn’t fully grasp what it meant to pray with faith, so I needed the potion of piety….”

For some reason, Mary Jane reminded me of Grey, the beastman.

Not because she was once oppressed by the church and still prayed, but because she separated the teachings from the followers and sought learning from it.

Truly, beastfolk must be the descendants of witches.

I felt convinced of this.

While I was lost in these thoughts, Mary Jane continued speaking.

“You came to find the alchemist friend, didn’t you?”

“Ah, yes.”

“If it’s not too much trouble… would you listen to a story before meeting them?”

“Pardon?”

“There’s someone I’d like to introduce to you….”

With that, Mary Jane slowly stood up and began walking somewhere.

I followed her lead and stood as well.

We didn’t go far.

It was a room within the same church building, marked as the ‘Prayer Room.’

Inside was a girl who bore a resemblance to Mary Jane.

It wasn’t in their physical features, but in the serene and unwavering expression on her face.

Mary Jane introduced her.

“This child is also a witch.”

“Hm, is the alchemist perhaps related to you and─.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I found her in the forest… after talking to her a bit, it seems she has lived alone since childhood for quite a long time….”

“For quite a long time?”

“Yes….”

“Hmm, compared to you, Mary Jane, she still looks like a child.”

They say witches don’t age, even after living a thousand years.

Mary Jane, too, looked similar a thousand years ago as she does now, so this girl, who still hasn’t matured, must be quite young.

Wouldn’t aging stop at the most beautiful moment of adulthood, as if time itself were halted?

While I was making this guess, Mary Jane denied it.

“Witches don’t age… this child will live forever in this form….”

“Sorry, what?”

“This child came into the world too early….”

Hmm.

I don’t fully understand how the witches’ ‘immortality’ works.

There must be some sort of rule to it.

“She hasn’t even learned witchcraft… nor how to make decisions with reason instead of emotion… she’s like a blank canvas….”

“…Can’t you teach her witchcraft yourself, Mary Jane?”

“It would take too long… if a child who doesn’t know how to decide for themselves suddenly uses potions, they might become dependent on them… that wouldn’t be good….”

“Ah, I see.”

“So, I’ve been looking for a witch’s village to educate her… but in the meantime, she needs someone to care for her….”

“Hmm.”

“Would you be able to take care of her?”

“Why not leave her with Gallen?”

“…….”

Before my words even finished, the sound of the church door opening rang out, followed by the familiar cheerful laugh of the alchemist.

As always, Gallen walked in, grinning.

After glancing at us briefly, he greeted us loudly.

“It’s been a while! Ah! I’m so glad to finally show you my workshop today!”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Gallen.”

“To be honest, there’s not much of interest in the workshop itself! Just lots of materials and failed potions! But I think you’ll find the potion-making process quite intriguing. If you want, you can even try making a simple potion yourself!”

“That sounds interesting.”

“I’ll also make sure to send you home with plenty of useful potions!”

“Thank you. By the way, we were just discussing Mary Jane and this young girl….”

Only then did the alchemist look at the girl and nod in understanding.

“A witch who failed to socialize and whose growth has halted, right? Coincidentally, I have a prototype of a potion for growth─though I’m not sure how it would work on a witch. I think it might have some effect!”

“…….”

Ah.

Now I understood why Mary Jane didn’t leave the child with the alchemist.

.

.

.

In the end, I decided to take care of the young(?) witch for a while.

Sion gave me a doubtful look as if questioning whether I could handle it.

“Do you think you can… take care of a child, Lord Ed…?”

“Well, she’s not really a child. She’s a witch. For all I know, she might even be older than me.”

The girl held my hand tightly and looked around blankly.

She didn’t seem nervous. On the contrary, her lack of any emotion made her seem like a well-crafted doll moving on its own.

I bent down to meet her gaze and asked her a question.

“Do you know how old you are?”

“I don’t know….”

Well, that’s how it was.

The girl was like a blank slate, knowing nothing about herself or the world.

She was closer to a robot lacking data than to an innocent child.

And so, I returned home with the girl.

“…You were supposed to get married, and instead, you brought back a daughter?!”

There were minor misunderstandings from my family, but I was able to finish my journey without incident.

.

.

.

Taking care of the young witch was incredibly… perplexing.

“Do you want to eat anything?”

“I don’t know….”

“Would you like to read a book?”

“No….”

“Should I read you a fairy tale?”

“No….”

“How about writing a story together?”

“I don’t know letters….”

“Oh! Then I’ll teach you letters. Would you like to learn?”

“No….”

Witches don’t starve even if they don’t eat.

They don’t thirst even without drinking water.

They don’t suffocate even without air.

In other words, witches don’t ‘need’ anything required for biological life.

She seemed almost devoid of instincts.

If left alone, she would just lean against a wall, blinking absently.

It was, quite literally, perplexing.

I began to wonder if witches were naturally like this.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of confusion, I asked her another question.

“…Is there anything you want to do?”

“…….”

“Hmm?”

“I want… to observe… emotional expressions….”

“What?”