Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Don Quixote (1)
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Sherlock Holmes had been hit.
Truth be told, it wasn't all that surprising.
As I'd mentioned before, this world was currently in the grips of a knight literature boom.
And the mainstream of this knight literature was just swapping out character names from existing works.
Surprisingly enough, straight-up copying other stories wholesale was all the rage.
There were a few reasons for it.
For first-time writers, copying established works was a great way to learn the ropes.
Once you'd written a bit, it worked, so why stop?
And if you couldn't make money off original novels, ripping off someone else's was way more profitable.
But above all else, there was no sense of copyright here.
Well, to be precise, there was a little awareness, but nothing legally protected.
So the writers in this world did it all to make a buck.
And even the currently popular Sherlock Holmes couldn't escape the trend.
"Young master. Should I send someone after them?"
"No, calm down."
Biena looked ready to charge out and grab the hack who'd written the rip-off.
With faint anger simmering on her face, it felt like things could get ugly if I didn't stop her, so I grabbed her shoulder.
"This isn't something you can just stop by blocking it."
As soon as I touched her shoulder, she flinched like she'd snapped out of it.
But why was her face turning red?
Was she embarrassed about losing control of her emotions?
"...Sorry. I got a little worked up."
"It's fine. I get it."
There was nothing odd about Biena getting mad.
She thought I was the original author, so getting used like this might make her feel insulted on my behalf.
In simple terms, she was angry for me.
It made me happy, but we couldn't go overboard.
If I were a commoner or a noble without land, I could protest in front of Jenectra Publishing House like before.
What did I have to lose? A little rampage wouldn't hurt.
But I was a noble with territory.
Well, technically the child of nobles who had territory.
Either way, causing a scene wouldn't do me any good.
Biena must have realized that too, which was why she'd calmed down.
Probably.
"First, we need to investigate. We can't stop it outright, but to find some way to deal with it, we have to know who we're up against."
"What do you need me to do?"
Was it my imagination, or did Biena's eyes light up at my words?
I couldn't quite read her gaze, but her expression showed she was fired up and ready to help.
Violent action was off the table, but since I was doing something, she wanted in.
I appreciated that.
This time, I didn't stop her and just gave a small smile.
"First, have the other servants gather every similar book out there. Biena, you and a few others sort them. The criteria... I'll leave that to you. Think you can handle it?"
"Yes, sir. Leave it to me, young master."
Biena hurried off toward the mansion like time was of the essence.
I watched her go, then turned back to the book.
"I was planning to take a break for a bit."
But with material rolling in like this, how could I resist?
Conveniently, something had come to mind.
I paced slowly, mulling over how to approach it.
**
I'd spent the last three days deep in thought.
The reason was obvious: the Sherlock Holmes rip-offs.
So far, I had two directions in mind.
One was to ignore the knockoffs and keep writing Sherlock Holmes.
That way, a new series could crush them.
But something about it didn't sit right.
I wasn't one to pick fights, yet it bugged me.
"I don't even know why I'm like this."
Did I have some unknown fighting spirit?
Anyway, the other option was to hit the rip-off artists where it hurt.
How?
There was a perfect novel for that.
When I was debating my first book, I'd considered several works.
Lots of candidates back then, but I'd gone with Sherlock Holmes in the end.
Not saying Sherlock Holmes now, though.
"The last two candidates at the time. One was Don Quixote."
Don Quixote was born to satirize the overflowing knight literature of its era.
The author might not have intended it that way, but the content screamed satire.
So it fit perfectly for a time overrun by rip-offs bordering on plagiarism.
Sorry to the Sherlock fans, but I wanted to land a solid blow.
You write rip-offs?
Fine, I'll write a satire of rip-offs.
The problem? The sheer length.
In my past life, the ebook version was nearly 2,000 pages.
Depending on viewer settings, but it was 3-4 times longer than Sherlock Holmes, and I'd been shocked.
After agonizing, I decided to split it into multiple volumes.
Roughly 300 pages each.
"Otherwise, no one would read it, for sure."
People read novels mostly for dopamine hits.
If they wanted culture, they'd pick philosophy books.
Folks choosing novels over philosophy aren't cracking open encyclopedia-thick tomes.
Not a chance, in my view.
My target audience didn't distinguish between nobles and commoners.
But commoners, shorter on cash than nobles, couldn't afford thick books.
Even with advanced printing, paper was still pricey.
So shorter volumes were the way to go.
"Hmm. What about the works mentioned inside Don Quixote?"
I'd have to adapt those to this world's stories appropriately.
As I hashed out my plans, Biena approached with a proud look.
Her faintly upturned lips were proof.
She bowed politely as she reached me.
"I've finished the sorting."
"Faster than I expected. I figured it'd take at least a week."
Biena had wrapped it up in just three days.
Truly impressive.
How'd she manage that?
Proud of herself, she lifted her lips a bit higher.
I praised her, and suddenly Katiranya, who'd been nearby, chimed in.
"She worked the others like they were rats, mngh?"
"Haha, what are you talking about?"
Oh, better play dumb.
Even if I didn't know Katiranya was a vampire, covering her mouth with her hand?
Something must have gone down.
To spare her dignity, I turned away pretending not to notice.
I ignored Katiranya grumbling at Biena from behind.
Didn't hear a thing.
I headed to where Biena had sorted them, ignoring the commotion.
In the room, books were stacked by consistent criteria, divided into sections.
I picked up the first one that caught my eye.
"Sherlock's Jolly Tales, huh. Wow, this is bad."
Flipping it open, it was basically identical to what I'd written.
Names changed, but pure plagiarism.
Had they sold their conscience? Brutal.
Beyond absurd, it was baffling; I had no words.
I set it down and lifted the one below.
Same deal—just names swapped.
No sign of original thought.
"Looks like she sorted by severity."
Moving to another section, these showed more effort than the first.
But the storylines were still too similar.
I skimmed one from each section.
Obviously couldn't read them all.
"Hundreds of books, divided into ten sections."
Two were straight plagiarism.
Four might pass as parody.
Three were homages at best.
The last one could claim mere inspiration.
"Even so, given the era..."
Realistically, they were all plagiarism.
Most had probably made some money too.
On Earth, it'd be a lawsuit frenzy.
Might even break the original author's spirit.
"But if you think about it, I, uh..."
Anyway, these shameless hacks with no copyright sense or conscience deserved a smackdown.
Knight literature was still the biggest genre, so basing a novel on it would get a great reaction.
"Still, it's weird. Fountain pens haven't been out long, and already knockoffs are flooding in."
Can't help but suspect something.
By pure logic, fountain pens eased the hassle, leading to the flood.
"If this is my doing, that's something."
Of course, that didn't mean I wouldn't curse them out.
I'd skimmed enough; time to plan Don Quixote in detail.
"Young master. Have you looked them over?"
"Oh, Biena. Yeah? So, who won?"
Biena startled, cheeks flushing.
She shook her head hurriedly.
"It's not like that...! Ahem, anyway, I sorted them as you asked. What now?"
I told her my idea.
She listened quietly, then nodded.
"I see. That could definitely serve as a warning. But what about Sherlock Holmes...?"
Biena trailed off, but I got it.
Regrettably, Sherlock Holmes was on hold for now.
"Too bad. It was fun."
"Sorry."
"No, it's fine. We do what you want."
As expected from Biena, who'd served me since childhood.
A bit touching.
I let slip some regret without thinking.
"Honestly, I'd love to push for a copyright law too."
"Copyright?"
"Nah, nothing."
I'd wanted to ram through copyright law too, but had to consider market backlash.
Suppose I proposed it.
What happens?
A ton of scared novelists would quit writing.
Not what I wanted.
Creation always starts with imitation.
If I pushed copyright with harsh penalties, it might kill the novel market.
Ruining the environment for fun stories? No thanks.
"Can't burn the house down chasing fun."
Anyway, time to really write Don Quixote.
These sorted rip-offs? Reading material for downtime.
Curious how they pulled it off.
"Biena. One more favor. Buy new bookshelves and shelve these by category?"
"Got it."
I left the rest to Biena and headed to my room.
Time to hole up again for a while.
**
Don Quixote Volume 1—Part 1, actually—wasn't as hard to write as I'd thought.
Having read plenty of knight tales since childhood, replacing the in-book knight stories was easy.
One issue: cutting off at the fun parts.
"Man, even Cliffhanger Arts would get hate for this."
"Cliffhanger Arts?"
A familiar voice asked curiously from behind.
I answered on instinct.
"Oh, yeah. Basically, cutting off at the most exciting spot."
"Got it. Yeah, that'd piss people off."
Katiranya, huh.
I turned to face her.
"...Ugh, damn! You scared me!"
Why was she right next to me?
I'd turned, and her face was inches away.
She'd been peering over my shoulder, but this lack of personal space?
No, more importantly.
"When did you even get here? Make some noise when you move. My heart nearly stopped."
"Hehe. Can't help it; teasing you is fun. Try not getting so startled."
As if I could control that.
I glared at Katiranya pointlessly and sighed.
"Sigh. Anyway, I'm heading out now. Gotta deliver the manuscript."
"Oh? Mind if I tag along?"
"Huh? Whatever, do what you want."
I headed out with Katiranya, who wanted to come.
Biena looked a bit sulky, but she had a lot on her plate today, so no choice.
I thought it'd be a peaceful outing as usual.
"Oh. You again."
We ran into Hepiriya, whom I'd met before.
It'd been longer than expected, so I was glad, but the timing sucked.
Because.
"Tch, that damn Holy Kingdom wench."
"...Pardon?"
This wasn't ending easy.
No, it definitely wouldn't.
Katiranya was a damn vampire, after all.