Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World - Chapter 56: Les Misérables

< Chapter 56: Les Misérables – 3 >

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting a profound answer. In the end, this is less a matter of wisdom and more a matter of history. The Harrenites probably just need a bit more time….”

“…Yes.”

The Lazy King’s eyes, proof of the dragon’s blood, gleamed with their vertically slit pupils.

The royalty of Harren did not need laws, violence, or authority to rule over the people of Harren. The fact that the descendants of dragons would reign over the skies of Harren was an inborn right, established as a principle of this world the moment the Lazy King was born with the eyes of a dragon.

It was a natural right that could not be overthrown by constitutional monarchy or republicanism.

But why was it that the ‘descendants of dragons’ ruled over the Harrenites? What kind of covenant was there between the dragons and the people of Harren in the past?

Or, more fundamentally—

What exactly was a ‘dragon’?

“…Your Majesty, are you familiar with animals that are born with vertical pupils?”

“Hmm? Well, let’s see, snakes and cats, I suppose?”

“Small predators like snakes, crocodiles, foxes, and sharks are usually born with vertical pupils. Vertical pupils are advantageous for adjusting to brightness and allow for high-sensitivity vision at night, but because they distort the surrounding landscape, they are more of a disadvantage than an advantage for large predators. Even within the same species, this ‘vertical pupil’ trait varies depending on the size of the animal.”

“This is new information to me, but it sounds quite reasonable.”

“But aren’t dragons in mythology depicted as very large creatures?”

“Indeed, according to the records passed down in Harren, the ‘dragon,’ which is the ancient ancestor of the royal family, was said to be large enough to use an entire mountain range as its nest.”

I couldn’t be certain that such records about the existence of ‘dragons’ were accurate, but somehow, it felt like they could be true.

An excessively large size, a being that had far surpassed the bounds of evolution.

I had already seen one such creature.

The orbital elevator in the form of a tree—the ‘World Tree.’ It was clearly a structure created with a purpose, a massive platform meant to aid humanity in its future expansion into space.

If that was the case, then it was likely that the existence known as a ‘dragon’ was also created with a specific role in mind.

Therefore, before answering the Lazy King’s question, I needed to understand the premise more clearly.

“Your Majesty, what exactly is a ‘dragon’?”

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After finishing my conversation with the Lazy King and returning to my quarters, I found myself staring blankly at the ceiling.

In the end, I neither learned any valuable information nor provided a satisfactory answer. All that lingered in my chest was a strange unease.

– “I don’t really know either. The ‘ancient covenant’ dates back to when the Kingdom of Harren was founded 1,200 years ago. It’s practically a myth.”

– “…That’s a relatively recent period, isn’t it?”

– “The Savior descended to this land a thousand years ago, so it’s a time that feels both distant and close. But this is the founding history of the Kingdom of Harren.”

It was said that the beings known as dragons made a covenant of servitude with the Harrenites 1,200 years ago, founding the Kingdom of Harren.

Indeed, 1,200 years is an incredibly long time… but from a historical perspective, it’s a period that can still be traced back to some extent.

However, there are almost no records in this world from the period before the ‘Savior’ came.

This was true in the Empire and also in the Kingdom of Harren. It was as if someone had deliberately erased that history.

“Could there be a Big Brother controlling this world…?”

My mind felt cluttered, so I left my quarters and wandered outside.

I considered going to a bookstore. Although I’d already read most of the books in the nearby shops, reading was the only thing I could do to clear my head.

I figured that if I checked out some new releases, my mind would soon be at ease.

With that thought in mind, I walked a long distance. The streets of Harren weren’t as noisy as those in the Empire, since the people of Harren valued quietness as a virtue.

And then—

I caught the scent of old paper from somewhere. It was the kind of scent one might find in an old bookstore or library.

Drawn to the smell as if in a trance, I followed it. Could there be a library nearby that I didn’t know about?

“…A church?”

Contrary to my expectations, it was a church. The source of the bookish scent was a pile of bundled books stacked in the church courtyard.

A few priests and believers were busily moving around, tidying up the church.

It seemed they were doing a major cleanup. Perhaps they were preparing to move, though I wasn’t sure.

As I stood there, staring at the church in a daze, one of the priests who was carrying boxes approached me and spoke.

“Greetings, brother. The church is a bit chaotic right now, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes. Are you planning to relocate?”

“Haha, no. The church building feels a bit too spacious, so we’re clearing out the unnecessary rooms to turn them into a poorhouse.”

“Pardon?”

“The door of a doctor should never be closed, and the door of a clergyman must always be open.”

“A quote from Les Misérables…?”

“Oh dear, you caught me. Haha, it seems you were also deeply moved by the novel Les Misérables.”

The priest chuckled, somewhat sheepishly, as he fiddled with the rosary draped over his arm.

He glanced at the others who were busy moving the bundles and continued speaking.

“Some intellectuals have been saying that Les Misérables is a republican novel and such… but honestly, I don’t know much about that. I just think there’s something profoundly moving about watching someone strive to be good, don’t you?”

“Yes….”

“It would certainly be a blessing if His Majesty remained our bishop forever… but if we’re so focused on looking up that we fail to see what’s around us, there’s nothing more shameful before the Lord. Even if this order is flawed, if more people could extend a hand like Bishop Myriel did to Jean Valjean, wouldn’t that also bring the Lord’s peace to this world?”

“…….”

“And so, we’re creating this poorhouse to help those… like ‘Jean Valjean.’ People who want to work, who want to learn a trade, who have committed crimes and find no one to trust them, who are too poor to learn to read—we want to teach them skills and help them find jobs. Many of our parishioners own factories or businesses, you see.”

“You’re doing good work.”

“It’s something we should have done sooner. I hear that in the Empire, such efforts are already being made with the support of a writer named ‘Homer.’ He’s the one who wrote Don Quixote and The Little Prince… have you heard of him?”

“Ah, yes.”

The foundation I had established in the Empire was indeed playing a similar role.

I was pouring thousands of gold coins every month into universal education for children.

All of it was for my own selfish reasons.

I wanted to develop literature in this world so I could enjoy more of it. Whether it was universal education or welfare, from my perspective, it was simply a means to increase the number of ‘writers.’

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if those children, after learning to read, grew up to become excellent writers?

“Recently, this thing called ‘literature’ has been changing society so much that perhaps it, too, is a gift from the Lord.”

“…That could be.”

“Oh! If there’s any book among these that you’d like to read, please feel free to take one.”

“No, thank you. I’ve read them all.”

“All of them…?”

The priest chuckled, perhaps thinking I was exaggerating.

I nodded slightly and then left the church grounds, resuming my walk.

And so, I returned to my quarters, and as I had done during all my travels, I leisurely began to reread Les Misérables.

But somehow, today, I couldn’t seem to focus.

[“Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to become an honest man. Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I am buying for you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”]

“The greatest intellectual of the Empire….”

Literature doesn’t change anything. Literature isn’t a spellbook, and it offers no direct utility.

If literature were truly useful, after reading tens of thousands of works, I would have turned out to be a far better person. But the result is nothing more than a translator and a plagiarist fixated on literature.

Yet, despite all that uselessness, literature does change the world. At the very least, it makes us aware of the things we don’t know.

So, really, it was a simple matter.

“I don’t even know why I was worrying so much in the first place….”

Whether it’s the magic that shapes this world, the World Tree rooted deep within it, the presence of a Big Brother guiding the world’s fate, or some transcendental force that reincarnated me into this world—

These aren’t problems for a plagiarist like me to worry about.

Whether the Kingdom of Harren thrives under the rule of an absolute philosopher king or its citizens become republican masters of their own destiny—

That’s not my concern either.

Those are matters outside the realm of literature. I only need to focus on one thing.

Does any of this serve literature?

And the answer was just as simple.

“Since I can’t figure it out by racking my brain, I’ll just act first and see what happens.”

After all, more virtuous, capable, talented, and brilliant people will handle things somehow.

So, as a plagiarist—

My only task is to introduce literature to this world that they can reference. The interpretations will be up to them, as they see fit.

There is no correct answer in literature.

With that thought, I began to plagiarize a new piece of literature.

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[Big Brother is watching you.]