Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

Chapter 70: The Brothers Karamazov – 1

In the capital of the Empire, there exists a place called “Beyond the Yellow Wall.”

To put it simply, it was a slum.

People who lived in the capital but could not enjoy its prosperity—disabled people with missing arms, low-born commoners, criminals who could not find work, and the destitute who had no wealth even for a single meal—gathered there.

Such a slum existed, yet it did not exist.

The existence of the slum was hard to acknowledge because the prosperity of the capital was too brilliant. Wasn’t it strange that in the greatest city, there existed a “filth” like a slum?

Thus, the citizens of the capital called it simply “Beyond the Yellow Wall,” treating it as though it did not exist. A place, more vivid because of its proximity, yet always close enough that no one bothered to examine it closely—like a shadow.

Because they could not give it a name, they merely referred to it as “Beyond the Yellow Wall.”

“Brother Paolo, are you going to ‘Beyond the Wall’ again today?”

“Ah, Brother. You are doing a great job on guard duty. I am on my way to the cafeteria to distribute the rations.”

“You, Father, are the one who is working hard. Those lazy thieves shouldn’t cause you any harm… If it’s alright, would you like me to assign a soldier to accompany you?”

“Haha, it’s alright. I can protect myself, even if it’s just my own body.”

The people beyond the wall were the ones who had been abandoned even in the poorhouse. To be more precise, they were those who could not receive aid because of the religious principles of the poorhouse.

The saying “He who does not work, shall not eat” makes it easy to understand. The poorhouse was a place that taught the poor to work, supported them while they learned, and helped them find jobs, thereby giving them the ability to support themselves.

But the people in the slum did not work at all.

They were people who either lacked the ability to work or had no will to work, living here “Beyond the Wall.”

The only thing they could rely on was the free cafeteria run by the church and the Empire, in collaboration. In exchange for receiving food at the cafeteria, they did not dare to infringe upon the “inside the wall.”

Thus, the “inside the wall” of the Empire was always kept clean.

The citizens of the great Empire lived in an ideal city where “there are no poor, and no crime.” There were even no disabled people or criminals. If what is not seen does not exist, then the capital of the Empire was certainly an “ideal” place.

The commoners of the Empire worked busily in factories, enjoying beer, magazines, and fights, living simple, happy lives.

The beastmen of the Empire faced discrimination in many areas, but within their own society, they supported each other and took pride in their prosperity.

The nobles of the Empire, while fighting and bickering in the parliament, would embellish themselves with false decorum and old-fashioned manners in social circles, trying to maintain appearances.

The priests of the Empire helped those in need in orphanages and churches, spreading the blessed word.

Each person had their own sadness, misfortune, and suffering.

But the Empire was an ideal society, even with such sadness.

“Still, please be careful not to go too deep into narrow alleys when walking around.”

“I always stick to the usual route, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Yes, then, take care.”

“Yes, take care.”

But.

In this ideal society, just a little shift to the side…

“I am Father Paolo, the priest of the capital. I have brought food to be used at the free cafeteria.”

“…Leave it by the door.”

“If I leave it by the door, won’t someone take it?”

“If there’s a fool who tries to steal the food from the cafeteria, they won’t live here long anyway. Just leave it.”

“…Yes, understood.”

A miserable and filthy society exists under the shadows, where powerless people with bloodshot eyes lurk.

Father Paolo could never get used to the air of this place.

He had visited many times, but… nonetheless, it always gave him a chilling feeling. Perhaps it was some sort of religious aversion he felt as a priest—a sense of disgust and hatred. ???o????

Drug addicts, beggars, powerless people, and those unfaithful to their beliefs.

These trash-like people were far more common here than the garbage littering the streets.

…

“Father Paolo, have you returned?”

“Yes, Brother. Has anything happened while I was gone?”

“The monastery has received new books. They say that Father Homeros has a new work.”

“Hmm… Is that so?”

In fact, unlike the priests at the Vatican, Father Paolo, a monk, did not particularly like “Homeros.”

Of course, he respected him.

He was the one who had achieved the Church’s eternal dream of “universal child welfare,” and moreover, had made it a miracle that people began to donate for children.

But, as a monk who took poverty and diligence as virtues…

Homeros’s “virtue of giving” always seemed excessive. If he guaranteed aid unconditionally to the poor and lazy, how could they ever find salvation?

Of course, if a priest like him were to voice such thoughts, he would likely be criticized for being no different from the miserly scribes and might even face excommunication?.

As expected.

It was hard to view things in a positive light.

“This too must be considered a sin of thought….”

Thus.

It could be said that there were two selves within the monk-priest Paul.

One was his self as a priest who revered the “Venerable” Homer, who had received divine miracles, and the other was his self as a monk who disapproved of Homer as a “philanthropist” running a welfare foundation.

Caught in turmoil between these two selves, Monk-Priest Paul brushed his hand over the cover of the book brought by the servant.

“…Perhaps I can find an answer in this book.”

In the end, both selves loved “Author” Homer.

If Homer were to be canonized in the future, he would likely become the patron saint of literature. Regardless of personal likes or tendencies, each of Homer’s works was a masterpiece imbued with profound philosophy and thought.

Moreover, for a monk who constantly sought answers through reflection, literature was quite a fitting hobby to pass the time.

Thus, Monk-Priest Paul, seeking a resolution to his inner conflict, decided to set aside his frustrating worries and read Homer’s latest work.

[The Brothers Karamazov]

“The length is nice… This should keep my leisure time occupied for the next few days.”

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The Brothers Karamazov was a quintessentially… Russian literary novel.

If such an expression failed to sufficiently explain the greatness of the magnum opus by a great writer, let me put it this way.

The Brothers Karamazov was “Russian literature” itself. It stood as one of the ideal pinnacles of the “perfect novel,” which countless authors aspired to achieve, and was a masterpiece that encapsulated the baseness and ideals of humanity in their entirety.

“This piece feels a little… disorienting.”

“Oh? In what way?”

“It seems to be a novel about sin, yet it constantly speaks of love… It includes unforgivable crimes like murder and suicide, but… it’s also brimming with hope. Hmm, I lack the eloquence to describe it well, but… it feels remarkably natural, even though the characters are placed in extremely extreme circumstances. It’s different from the ‘romanticism’ you mentioned in The Sorrows of Young Werther or the ‘hardboiled’ style of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

“Exactly! No matter how extreme the circumstances, to the people experiencing them, it’s just ordinary and natural ‘life.’ And that’s why life is even more precious.”

Dostoevsky himself had been sentenced to death and spent time in a prison camp among condemned inmates.

Extreme circumstances, extreme crimes, extreme environments.

In such conditions that drove people toward grim malice, Dostoevsky came to understand the goodness and ordinariness of “prisoners” more profoundly.

He learned why good and evil coexist, why the law of the land and human morality are inherently contradictory.

And.

Despite all the sordidness of human affairs, he learned about the love that must be eternal—God’s love.

In truth, Dostoevsky’s fixation on God’s love was somewhat simple. In the prison camp, the Bible was the only reading material permitted. Having been abruptly pardoned just before execution, he perceived it as “God’s miracle.” Naturally, this left a deep impression.

For these reasons, The Brothers Karamazov was an intensely Russian literary novel and the embodiment of Russian literature.

Dostoevsky’s life itself was the essence of Russia’s contradictions.

And Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov reflected his life in its entirety.

[“I believe that people must love life above all else.”]

[“More than the meaning of life itself, to love life as it is?”]

[“Absolutely.”]

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[“I trust in people. Just as I trust in my brother.”]