Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

Chapter 77

: The White Whale – 2

The foundation commonly referred to as the ‘Homerus Foundation’ can be broadly divided into two categories.

One is the [Holmes & Lupin Artists Welfare Foundation], which supports the activities and livelihoods of artists, and the other is the [Little Prince & Alice Children’s Welfare Foundation], which plays a role in social safety nets, such as providing educational support and free meals for minors.

Among them, when people generally spoke of the ‘Homerus Foundation,’ they were usually referring to the ‘Artists Welfare Foundation.’

This was likely due to the image of Homerus as a writer. In the case of the Children’s Welfare Foundation, it was more commonly referred to as the ‘Little Prince Foundation’ or the ‘Welfare Foundation.’

Anyway.

The Artists Welfare Foundation provided unlimited support to people categorized as ‘artists.’ This was especially true for those engaging in creative work. For writers, the foundation covered all the costs required for publication and provided a small advance and living allowances. Additionally, the foundation’s various libraries purchased the books and provided minimal promotion as well.

Of course, since it was an ‘Artists’ Welfare Foundation,’ it also supported the work of non-writers—such as painters and sculptors. With the advancement of technology, a new profession called ‘photographer’ had also emerged recently.

However, the most actively supported field was literature, and as a result, if there were complaints, they would likely come from people working in other forms of art.

Thus, I never expected this kind of protest from fellow ‘writers.’

Moreover, it was not a demand for more support, but rather a call for a reduction in support.

Personally, I found it quite interesting, so I invited the person who was protesting to the publishing company to meet face to face.

At first, the writer, who was taken aback by my invitation and nervous, became more relaxed and raised his voice as soon as I asked for his opinion.

“We must stop guaranteeing publication and royalties for books that are unqualified!”

“Hmm, why should that be the case?”

“It’s because the current ‘Artists Welfare Foundation’ is allowing low-quality books to be published indiscriminately.”

“Low-quality books?”

It didn’t seem like he was referring to pulp fiction.

“I’m talking about books that are no different from diaries. Stories that are just written haphazardly without any contemplation or creativity, taking up space in libraries, making it difficult to find quality… good literature. So many books are being published that the books that really need to be known are being buried.”

“Hmm…”

“Therefore, from now on, the foundation must set standards and correct this!”

Somehow, this sounded familiar, like something I had heard a lot in my past life.

In my past life, there were many complaints about light essays, often called ‘essays,’ dominating bestsellers at stores like Kyobo Bookstore or online bookstores, while ‘proper’ books failed to attract attention. There were even arguments that the bestsellers by YouTubers, celebrities, and influencers were unfair, simply because of their popularity.

Personally, I didn’t really agree with this argument.

Although I was a fan of ‘classic literature,’ I found it somewhat ugly to claim that there was something wrong with the ‘best-selling books’ in a situation where no one was reading books at all.

In the first place, the way people access printed material was different for each person.

Someone who got into reading through a celebrity’s essay might eventually develop an interest in books and seek out more. In any case, online bookstore platforms provided various best-seller charts for ‘modern literature’ and ‘foreign literature’ as well. ???????

Just because a book was filled with volatile and personal content, it didn’t mean its ‘literary quality’ was low. Ultimately, it was the reader who determined that.

“So, who would decide on those standards?”

“Well, if the transcendental figure of literature, Mr. Homerus, could do it—”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why me?”

“Yes?”

“Heh, just kidding. Hmm, I see. You could certainly think that way… you’re saying that not everyone can be a writer, right?”

“Anyone can be a writer, but not all written works can be called art.”

This person wasn’t just a simple protester.

He was probably a novelist. Perhaps I had read one of his novels before.

That’s why I decided to meet him.

This person wasn’t a ruler, a merchant, or a noble; he was a writer. He was someone who could boldly claim, “You are the reason the quality of literature is deteriorating,” to the transcendental figure of literature. A madman who considered nothing but literature itself. Someone who could differentiate between the authority of the writer and the value of the work.

He was a person filled with a belief that made him so confident he could cause trouble openly.

Perhaps because it was a plagiarized novel, Captain Ahab from Moby-Dick came to my mind. The blasphemous captain who led everyone to ruin because of his vengeful obsession. Personally, I didn’t dislike this kind of person.

“Then, it seems you’ve come to the wrong person.”

“Huh?”

“My foundation is the Artists’ Welfare Foundation, after all. To be honest, from the foundation’s perspective, it doesn’t matter at all what kind of work someone has written. It shouldn’t even be a consideration.”

“Why is that?”

The man countered in surprise.

In his eagerness to argue about literature to the ‘transcendental figure’ of literature, I could clearly see what could be called his pride as a writer.

But I was a shameless plagiarist without a shred of pride.

Such shamelessness could only come from the memories of a previous life.

From the memory of living in South Korea, a time when literature was treated as nothing more than an elegant, outdated hobby, and the pursuit of eternity in literature was considered “old-fashioned.”

And in my opinion, literature should belong to everyone.

Before it is an eternal academic pursuit, it should be a hobby that anyone can access and participate in with ease.

“Because literature should have no walls.”

Cervantes’ Don Quixote killed the old hero myths and opened the era of “new literature.”

It made literature eternal.

However, the eternity of literature can only truly be found in the moments experienced by the people living in a particular era.

No matter how great a work is, if no one reads it, it’s just kindling for the fire.

Of course, trying to explain something like “a world where no one reads printed words” to this person would be impossible.

So, I simply smiled.

“It must not have walls….”

“Surely, people come first, don’t they?”

.

.

.

[“Don’t try to explain blasphemy to me! If the sun insults me, then I’ll strike down even that sun!”]

[“If a prisoner doesn’t break the wall, how can they go outside? For me, Moby-Dick is that wall.”]

.

.

.

“Moby-Dick is the greatest novel this era has ever produced!”

“Of course, Moby-Dick will win the competition, right?”

As the announcement of the Homer Contest winners approached, a crowd had gathered in front of the bulletin board in the plaza to chatter and debate.

There was little disagreement about the winning entry.

Moby-Dick.

Most people anticipated that the great epic would claim victory.

But not everyone was just talking about the winning entry.

Some were discussing the novels they had enjoyed from the competition, recommending them to one another.

“Ha-ha, this competition really seemed to have a lot of entertaining novels. I voted for the story called The Flower That Embraced the Moon. My heart ached so much while reading it….”

“I also voted for Moby-Dick, but personally, my favorite was a children’s story called Who Stole the Cat?. It had adorable illustrations that looked like they were drawn by a child. Apparently, the author made it with their kid.”

“Oh my, that sounds so cute. I’ll have to check it out.”

Among the crowd were writers who had entered the competition, anxiously awaiting the results with their hearts pounding.

“D-Do you think it’ll be okay?! What if my name’s not there?! Does that mean I didn’t even get a single vote and failed?!”

“Come on, relax. I voted for your story too. You did a great job on it, so don’t worry too much. You’ll at least make it to the honorable mentions.”

“Ahhh…. But, but what if I don’t win anything at all…?”

“In that case, I’ll buy you a drink! So don’t stress too much. The results are coming out soon anyway, so stay calm and wait.”

“Alright….”

There were all sorts of people gathered there.

Among them, the students from Homer Academy particularly stood out.

Even Lady Es, a royal descendant who had enrolled in the academy belatedly, was present, which naturally drew much attention.

“H-Heh-heh, m-my novel will surely get an award of excellence, won’t it…?”

“Don’t act recklessly.”

“W-What’s the matter? Are y-you not confident? Heh-heh….”

“Tsk. How someone who stutters like you managed to write such a piece is beyond me….”

“Heh-heh, you two always seem to get along so well. I’m jealous.”

“N-No, that’s not it?”

“Absolutely not!”

And so, the results of the competition were announced.

The winning entry, as everyone expected, was Moby-Dick.

And.

The author’s name written next to it was….

Slightly different from what everyone had anticipated.

[Moby-Dick – Ed Fríden]

“Ed Fríden? Who is Fríden?”

“Has anyone heard of this name before?”

It was a small prank I had played, made possible by the forced revelation of pen names due to Transcendence.

After all, there was no longer any need to hide my identity.

The plaza buzzed with chatter.

Soon, a few people who had seen Ed Fríden before revealed that Ed Fríden was actually Herodotus— in other words, Homer’s real name.

People who had been worried about what might happen if Moby-Dick wasn’t Homer’s work sighed in relief.

Then they began to cheer.

“Homer is a god!”

“Long live the savior of literature, Homer!”

It was a familiar scene, as always—.

But the brief moment of silence and unease that occurred before it became known that “Ed Fríden” was Homer’s real name was what I had been aiming for.

The doubt that the work of a “Transcendent of Literature” might not always be the best.

The separation of author and work.

Such efforts were necessary to dilute Homer’s overwhelming authority.

Hiding among the crowd with the help of a Transparency Potion, I smiled as I slipped away.

“Young master, did you finish your business?”

“Yeah.”

“By the way, that Transparency Potion is really fascinating. How does it even make clothes invisible too?”

“Who knows?”

“Where shall we go next?”

“Hmm. Maybe the library?”

“Allow me to escort you.”