Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

The Brothers Karamazov.

Shortly after the publication of ‘A Christmas Carol’, Homer’s new work, published not long after, instantly captured the hearts of all intellectuals in the Empire.

Sin, love, desire, truth, false accusations, murder, infidelity─.

‘The Brothers Karamazov’, which depicted the contradictory psychology of people in detail, received empathy and love from many. Everyone viewed the story in their own way. Some focused on the inner contradictions of humanity, others on the complex and shocking events that unfolded, and still others on the ‘love of God’ that tied it all together.

“Homer is the savior of the new era, and literature is his Bible!”

As always, Homer’s praise was raised high at the time.

Critics, however, sparked controversy.

“It’s only been half a year since ‘A Christmas Carol’, considered Homer’s masterpiece, was released, and now we have ‘The Brothers Karamazov’, another new masterpiece. Is this even a possible writing speed for one person?”

“Homer began gaining fame and soon after held a competition and established the ‘Temporary Academy’, gathering disciples. Could it be that Homer is stealing the talents of his students?”

There were rumors that Homer’s early establishment of an academy and nurturing of students were actually for ‘ghostwriting’ purposes.

In fact, some of Homer’s middle-period works were published as co-authored with his students. Though the questions raised by critics started to gain traction in the media, they almost spread to the capital─.

“It’s possible because he is not just a man, but ‘Homer’!”

“On the contrary, Homer himself writes hundreds of ‘unreleased short stories’ to show his students, for their education.”

“We could never write such incredible stories….”

“What I wrote… what I wrote isn’t much. I just rephrased the sentences… all the stories were written by Homer….”

Thanks to the testimonies from the academy’s students, the rumors quickly died down.

Instead, the ‘unreleased short stories’ that were mentioned in those testimonies caused a flood of wealthy patrons eager to pay a fortune to read them, visiting the academy.

Homer did not sell or publish these ‘unreleased short stories’.

Instead, he donated them to the academy as reference materials. Anyone who was a student at the academy could read them. Outsiders, however, could only gain access to these materials by donating or contributing to the academy. ꞦÂƝỒᛒƐŠ

In the process, a large amount of funds were gathered, and a ‘scholarship foundation’ was established. It was the emergence of the ‘Education Promotion Foundation’, following the Children’s Welfare Foundation and the Artists’ Welfare Foundation.

“Critics have said that Homer’s writing speed is too fast, raising doubts that he might be ghostwriting other authors’ works.”

“If they knew that Homer was actually ‘Herodotus’ as well, they’d faint!”

“However, it’s not hard to understand. ‘The Brothers Karamazov’ is Homer’s magnum opus, following in the footsteps of ‘Don Quixote’. Has there ever been a work that delves this deeply into the human psyche and contradictions?”

“Hmm, isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration? In my opinion, ‘A Christmas Carol’, which guides the reader into the story with humor and oratory, is a better work. Do you think that the more you describe every part of a person in detail, the better the work becomes?”

“Hah? Have you said all that? Judging by your words, you’re clearly a person who falls for typical righteous stories, so I guess you haven’t read anything beyond shallow works!”

“What?! What did you just say?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Ugh! A duel!”

As always, there were people who engaged in duels while discussing literature.

However.

Unlike usual, the people most influenced by this novel were others.

[“You say that we must love life itself more than its meaning?”]

[“Certainly.”]

“…Love, love, huh.”

They were more diligent workers than any laborer, volunteers who gave to the world, scholars who sought wisdom in contemplation, and priests who were devout before their faith.

Intentional poverty, perpetual chastity, complete obedience.

They were those who sought salvation solely through worldly sincerity, and so distanced themselves from worldly pleasures more than any priest could.

“Father Paolo, are you alright? You look quite pale.”

“…Ah, yes. Brother. I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He was called a monk.

Father Paolo was the most respected monk in the Empire.

This was because Father Paolo was someone who faithfully fulfilled his duties. He was the kind of person who seemed to embody the very essence of a monk, so meticulous in fulfilling his obligations.

Of course, this was expected of any monk.

To avoid worldly pleasures, be diligent in labor, give to others, and engage in contemplation when in doubt were the duties of a monk. Anyone who violated these duties could not truly be called a monk.

However, there was a more difficult task in what seemed to be an obvious duty. After all, monks are human too.

Desire, laziness, greed─ it was hard to control the reins of such sinful thoughts in one’s heart. And it was because Father Paolo was able to manage those ‘difficult tasks’ that he became the most respected monk in the Empire.

“If you’re not feeling well, I’ll have the servant go to the ‘Wall Beyond’ for you today.”

“No, this is my duty.”

“Your efforts are always appreciated.”

“Helping others is my joy, so it’s only natural.”

Father Paolo, with a kindly smile, accepted the burden from the servant.

The food was to be moved to the ‘canteen’ beyond the yellow wall.

It was something he always did, but… for some reason, Paolo felt the weight of the food on his shoulders heavier than usual.

.

.

.

The yellow wall.

The wall that divided the ‘slums’ and the ‘capital’ wasn’t particularly high or thick.

At most, it was only slightly higher than an adult’s eye level.

A normal adult could climb over it without much difficulty.

Thus, the yellow wall wasn’t meant to stop criminals or illegal immigrants.

It wasn’t even designed to block people in the first place.

The wall was… meant to hide the truth.

Even standing on a small step would allow one to see beyond it, yet no one bothered to go through the trouble of looking over the wall.

So, the essence of the wall was closer to a curtain than a barrier.

It was a curtain of truth—one that could be opened at any time but one no one was willing to open.

Beyond the wall were lazy people.

“…….”

As Paolo crossed beyond the wall, he felt numerous gazes upon him.

The bloodshot, obsessive gazes of drug addicts.

The welcoming gazes of impoverished people who fled from labor.

The relieved gazes of disabled individuals with severed hands or legs, unable to find work.

Eyes that Paolo, the priest, could not love.

The powerless gazes of sinners who could only survive by begging for mercy day by day stared at him.

Amid those gazes, Paolo moved his steps.

As he did, a passage from The Brothers Karamazov came to his mind.

[“People are reluctant to acknowledge others as sufferers. They may nod at base sufferings like hunger, but they refuse to acknowledge nobler pains—those endured for ideals.”]

[“The moment they see the ugly face of the person, they realize that this face is entirely different from the ‘sufferer’ they imagined.”]

[“The noble beggars must never reveal themselves and instead beg through newspapers. People can love their neighbors abstractly or from afar, but never up close.”]

Until reading The Brothers Karamazov, Paolo had thought Homer was an idealist.

He believed Homer to be a saint who pursued eternal and infinite love like that of a savior.

Hence, he assumed Homer must have been raised in a privileged household without lack.

Anyone who had witnessed the depths of human misery would inevitably know.

There are people one simply cannot love.

Some individuals exist who, just by standing in front of you, provoke feelings of disgust and displeasure, making it utterly impossible to love them.

To breathe life into the mouths of those reeking of stench isn’t an act of love but rather a duty born out of love.

At least, Paolo, who was regarded as the most ‘idealistic’ monk, thought so.

Though he shuddered in revulsion at the sight of sinners beyond the lazy wall, he still smiled and carried food purely out of obligation.

It wasn’t because he didn’t love them that he hated them.

It was because he had to love them that he couldn’t help but hate them.

To Paolo, love was an obligation in itself.

“I am Paolo, a priest. I have brought food for the free canteen.”

“Ah, welcome. Is the inspection form inside the food sack as usual?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for your hard work, as always.”

However, Homer, who wrote The Brothers Karamazov, wasn’t ignorant of the ‘worst.’

The Brothers Karamazov was not a work that could be written by someone unaware of squalor and misery.

Paolo witnessed fragments of the ‘worst’ in that work—fragments that only someone who had contemplated and reflected deeply amidst wretchedness could express.

[“I could be crucified for humanity if necessary. But I could not share the same room with another person for two days.”]

[“Just the presence of others near me makes me uncomfortable. After a day, I start to hate them. One person eats dinner too slowly, and another keeps blowing his nose because of a cold. But the more I personally hate individuals, the more I find myself loving humanity.”]

When Paolo first devoted himself to faith, he made a vow.

To love.

To love his neighbors as himself and his enemies as himself.

He vowed to carry the Savior’s cross with him.

[“I love humanity, but—paradoxically, the more I love humanity as a whole, the less I love individual humans.”]

But that love wasn’t eternal.

He knew of the existence of individuals he couldn’t possibly love, even though he loved his ‘neighbors’ and ‘enemies’ as himself.

At times, he even found his own wretched body disgusting.

He could still be crucified for the salvation of all humanity, but—

If the lazy drug addicts he loathed approached him, even if they didn’t nail him but instead embraced him with righteousness, he would still feel disgusted.

“…Brother.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Would it be all right if I helped prepare meals here at the canteen?”

“Ah, we’re always short on hands, so that’s a welcome suggestion, but… wouldn’t it be too burdensome for you? You must also be busy, Father.”

Love must take precedence over all principles, and all deeds must be performed in love above all else.

Where had the vows he made as a faithful believer gone?

Was he prioritizing love over duty?

Was there any love in his heart for those lazy wretches?

He loved them as ‘neighbors’ and ‘enemies,’ yet he hated them as ‘people.’

Then, was this love, accompanied by hatred, just a lie?

If he harbored two minds, did that make him insincere before his faith?

No matter how much he contemplated and searched, he couldn’t find an answer to this contradiction.

There was no answer. The contradiction existed. His heart was confused.

In that case—

[“I believe in people. As I believe in my brother.”]

He simply fulfilled his duties as a priest.

“There is no leisure or idleness in acts of love. Now that I think about it, though I’ve visited here so often, I’ve never actually stepped inside.”

“Haha, Father Paolo, you are truly devout.”

If God’s love was possible only through miracles—

Then he believed in miracles.

As it had been since the beginning of time.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!