Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

Since bringing the young witch along, he made sure to take her everywhere so she could observe the emotions of the people around her.

It seemed that the “witch” species had an innate impulse and curiosity toward “emotions.”

In truth, they rarely went out, so most of their visits were limited to the library or the publishing house.

“Who is this child?”

“Due to some circumstances, I’m temporarily looking after her for the Fríden household.”

“Hmm… Could she possibly… not be your daughter, Ed?”

“Of course not.”

“I just wondered since she seems very attached to you.”

Lady Isolette tilted her head and scrutinized the witch’s appearance. She seemed intrigued that he was taking care of a child.

Especially to Isolette, who had known him since he was young, it must have seemed even more unusual.

After observing the child for a moment, Isolette gave a gentle smile and turned to him.

In a casual tone, she asked a simple question.

“What’s this child’s name?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Yeah.”

Isolette opened her mouth slightly, as if she’d just heard something truly strange, looking a little taken aback.

It seemed an explanation would take some time.

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Isolette’s solution after hearing his explanation was simple.

“If she’s curious about how to express emotions, why not go to a theater troupe?”

“Theater?”

“At the theater, they practice methods of expressing emotions for hours every day.”

“Hmm….”

It was a reasonable suggestion.

And so, he headed to the theater troupe with the young witch.

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“Ah! Mr. Homer! Welcome to our troupe.”

“It’s been a while, Mr. Howlen.”

Presender Howlen, an actor famous for his parody play “Metamorphosis.”

Recently, he had been both acting and teaching juniors at the troupe. He’d apparently had a change of heart after reading The Wizard of Oz.

Perhaps because of that change, Howlen greeted him with a bright smile, looking far more stable and cheerful than before.

“My apologies for dropping by unannounced, but I’m currently teaching the children. Could you wait just a moment?”

“Of course. I feel like I’m intruding by showing up so suddenly.”

“Not at all! It’s an honor to have you here, Mr. Homer!”

Howlen returned to the stage to teach, while he and the young witch sat down in the audience.

The place where Howlen taught was a small theater.

The seating could accommodate about a hundred people.

He assumed it was owned by the Homer Foundation, which had lent it out for the public purpose of training young actors.

From the audience, they could see Howlen shining brightly in the center of the stage, instructing the young actors.

The young witch watched the scene intently.

“…….”

“…….”

The young witch didn’t speak unless asked a question, and he wasn’t the type to ask pointless ones to fill the silence.

So they sat in silence, like spectators at a play, quietly watching the stage.

With the empty seats, it felt as if they had rented the entire theater, indulging in luxury.

Considering Howlen’s current popularity as one of the top actors, it felt even more indulgent.

Thus.

The luxurious silence enveloped the audience.

And in that silence, he thought to himself.

‘I should have brought a book to read….’

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Fortunately, Howlen’s lesson didn’t last too long.

After hearing the reason for his visit, Howlen nodded and turned his gaze toward the young witch.

“So, you want me to teach this child about ‘emotion’?”

“Yes. If it’s a burden, feel free to recommend another actor with some spare time.”

“Burden? Nonsense! If it’s a request from you, Mr. Homer, I’d cancel every other project to make time!”

“It’s not that important—”

“I’ll consider her my personal apprentice and teach her!”

Before he could say more, Howlen crouched down to meet the young witch’s eye level.

“You want to learn about expressing emotions, right?”

“Yeah… I want to learn… and observe….”

“Alright.”

Howlen clapped his hands with enthusiasm and spoke with heightened interest.

“Then, how about stepping onto the stage first?”

And thus began Howlen’s acting lessons.

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[“Even dying could be a thrilling adventure!”]

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Howlen diligently taught her about “emotion.”

It wasn’t simply about what expressions to make for specific feelings.

He explained how to interpret characters and situations, express subtext through acting, and use eye contact to convey the emotional exchanges and relationships between characters.

In a way, it was a comprehensive lesson on emotions—precisely what the witch needed—and Howlen delivered it in an extraordinarily effective manner.

This analytical approach was a skill born out of his lack of natural talent.

Howlen, lacking talent in acting, had to read scripts more often and contemplate characters more deeply than others.

Because he couldn’t delve into the depths of his soul, he had to fully utilize his body and nerves to their very ends.

He had to think through everything and express it with razor-sharp precision.

And.

The young witch, despite her outward immaturity, had a talent befitting her title.

The talent of a “witch” who could lure and devour people.

A talent to create the most innocent candy house, despite the coldness of her soul.

This talent.

“This child… is a genius.”

Howlen called it a talent for acting.

The young witch perfectly absorbed everything Howlen taught her!

“I want to teach her more! No, I must teach her! With her talent, I’m sure she’ll become a much greater actor than I ever could—”

“Mr. Howlen?”

“Ah, I-I apologize. I got a bit carried away.”

Howlen’s face was flushed red, his eyes sparkling. Even his fingertips trembled, showing how deeply moved he was.

Since he wasn’t an actor, Ed couldn’t fully understand that feeling.

It was perhaps similar to the excitement of discovering an author who writes exceptionally entertaining novels that fit one’s taste perfectly. That was his best guess.

“Well… I’m just looking after her for now. She said she wanted to learn about emotions, so I brought her here….”

After a moment of hesitation, he met the young witch’s eyes and asked a question.

“Do you want to learn more about acting?”

At his question.

The young witch hesitated silently, her unfocused eyes reflecting deep thought.

Then, she nodded slightly and replied softly.

“Yes….”

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[“Tinker Bell wasn’t entirely bad. No, she was entirely bad just now, but she was also entirely good at times.”]

[“Fairies have to be one or the other. Entirely bad or entirely good. Because fairies are so small, they can unfortunately only hold one emotion at a time. They can change, but they must change completely.”]

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The young witch slowly “learned” about emotions from Howlen.

She learned why a sorrowful person might burst into tears at a decisive moment when they could no longer contain their anguish.

She learned how a kind person might give a warm smile when looking at a beautiful scene.

She learned how someone’s expression twists in disgust upon seeing a hideous insect.

She learned how a chatterbox might laugh awkwardly to break an uncomfortable silence.

Theater taught the young witch about countless situations and characters.

While the scenarios were often dramatic and exaggerated, they were clear and straightforward, making them the perfect material for the young witch.

Gradually, the young witch began to understand the concept of “emotion.”

“Did you learn well from Howlen again today?”

“Yes, Uncle! Hehe, it was so much fun!”

“Uncle, huh… Hmm, well, I suppose that’s fine.”

She began applying these emotions and their expressions in daily life, turning her actions and speech into a grand performance.

For instance, she would smile brightly like a child and run to hug her guardian, Ed.

Even though, deep down, there was no genuine feeling—her behavior was not unlike an AI moving according to its algorithms.

After all, witches are known for drawing warmth out of their coldness and considering it a virtue.

Thanks to her remarkable mentor, Howlen, the young witch was slowly becoming more socialized.

She was able to get along with other children learning acting from Howlen and could “act” appropriately cautious around strangers.

However.

No matter how much the young witch learned about “emotion,” there was one person she could never understand.

“I made a script as a gift for Actor Howlen. Could you deliver it for me?”

“Sure!”

Homer. Ed Fríden. Her guardian, who went by many names.

The young witch couldn’t understand him at all.

As soon as he handed over the script, he immediately returned his attention to his book….

“…….”

“…….”

Her guardian seemed to move solely according to some unspoken principle, even more so than herself, a witch.

“Hm? Is there something else you wanted to say?”

“…No!”

Her guardian did not soften before children, grow affectionate toward family, boast before women, or act frivolously with friends.

“Oh, right. I didn’t explain what the script is about.”

There was only one thing that moved her guardian.

“The title of the script is Peter Pan.”

Literature.

“It’s a fairy tale about a boy who never grows up. Neverland, fairies… Tinker Bell and Captain Hook….”

For a moment, even the witch felt chills at the sight of her guardian’s unusually warm and gentle smile.

In a soft and tender voice, her guardian explained the script.

“It’s a story about a very enchanting world, so I think you’ll enjoy it.”