Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Don Quixote (7)
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I had triumphed in the council and finally earned my freedom.
Of course, strictly speaking, I still had to produce mass-produced golems for the mages.
"That can wait a bit."
After my victory in the council, everyone celebrated with me.
It was a joy I could savor precisely because I hadn't died.
Well, I probably wouldn't have actually died.
Even so, this ordeal had reignited my passion.
Returning to Earth might be impossible, but...
"Civilizational advancement. Might be worth a shot?"
Mana crystals, magic stone engines, mana engines.
Didn't I create them all to advance civilization?
So I decided to keep pushing forward.
Of course, civilization doesn't advance on science and engineering alone.
Culture and social institutions need to support it too.
"Not that I'm planning to become a politician or anything."
I could do something about the cultural side.
I already had the pen name Prometheus, after all.
For now, I'd continue Don Quixote, then think about what to write next.
"...But seriously, what should I write?"
Damn, already out of ideas!
I racked my brain for a moment, then decided to focus on Don Quixote first.
Worst case, I could write about Greco-Roman mythology.
Or pick a historical figure and run with that.
For example, someone who toppled a centralized empire like this one...
"Ahem. Let's just hurry up and finish Don Quixote."
I gripped my fountain pen and stared down at the manuscript paper.
I was a free man now.
So I resolved to charge straight through to the end of Don Quixote's first part.
As I wrote, I realized I'd misunderstood something.
By my standards—judging from the phone app—the first part was nearly two thousand pages.
But actually writing it out, it came to under nine hundred.
"Anyway, it's doable to the end."
For the record, I was currently in Professor Herman's private lab.
Why here? Because the demonstration had drawn a flood of investors expressing direct interest.
This time, their investment intentions were different from before.
Previously, they'd gone through the professor, but now they were coming straight to me.
Well, he wasn't exactly reliable on the business side.
Thanks to that, I had money now.
A lot of investment capital, in fact—I was just here temporarily to handle it.
"Enough to build my own private lab in Rlangbur."
Since I was doing it, better to set up comfortably in my hometown.
Even if I moved later.
I couldn't keep using the professor's lab forever anyway.
I wasn't planning to leave home again, so commuting back and forth wasn't practical.
"So... time to really write."
I buckled down to focus on Don Quixote for real.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Once the investment processing wrapped up, I returned home.
A few days passed since then.
I'd finished the manuscript in that time, so I decided to deliver it straight to the publisher.
Biena was too busy with work to come out today.
Katiranya seemed to be off on a stroll somewhere; I hadn't seen her.
Anyway, as I walked cheerfully past the ongoing protest...
"Hm? What's this?"
Something odd was hanging in the bookstore window.
It was peculiar enough that I approached for a closer look, and sure enough...
"...Don Quixote Volume 2?"
What the hell?
I hadn't published Don Quixote yet?
Hell, I was holding the actual manuscript right now—what was this?
I stared at the book in bewilderment, pondering what was going on.
Then I noticed another book beside it.
This one strayed slightly from the Don Quixote title.
Flipping it open briefly, I saw it was being sold as a sequel to my Volume 1.
"Ha, haha."
Wow. They published a novel mocking my Don Quixote knockoffs,
"and now they're copying this too?"
It reminded me inexplicably of the Sherlock Holmes days.
Back then, it was just blatant imitation, but now they were straight-up claiming it as the official next installment.
It even brought back vague memories from Earth.
I didn't remember precisely.
But if my recollection was right,
Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote, had dealt with something like this after Part 1.
"Guess people are the same everywhere."
No, this meant I inevitably had to publish Part 2.
Whether good or bad, Don Quixote's ending was perfect for shutting this down.
That said, not everything was bootlegs or scams.
There were books satirizing chivalric literature in my style, and even more Sherlock Holmes rip-offs.
"Anyway, now I've got even more reason to rush Part 2."
I hurried to the publisher and handed the manuscript to President Foren Hestins.
He looked shocked as he took it.
"Author, this is...?"
"The manuscript completing Don Quixote Part 1. If possible, I'd like it published in two volumes."
"Ah, finally!"
He shouted in delight, then gazed at me with eager eyes.
He clearly wanted to dive in right away.
The moment I nodded, he began devouring the pages at lightning speed.
This guy reads fast too.
So fast I wondered if he was really absorbing it.
Once he'd finished, he clutched the manuscript to his chest, moved.
"It's truly entertaining! Don Quixote's adventures stir my heart."
"Haha, thank you."
"But Don Quixote returns home again. Does that mean...?"
Foren glanced at me cautiously.
I wondered at first, but it clicked after a moment.
He was asking if this was really the end.
Stories usually wrapped with happy endings, after all.
Of course, I planned to shatter that expectation outright.
"This isn't the end. Part 2 is obviously coming too."
Unfortunately, Part 2 had a sad ending.
I wondered if Foren would resent me later.
I played it off innocently, and he beamed with anticipation.
"Ah, right. You did call it Part 1."
Foren promised to publish it without fail.
Then he bowed his head in gratitude.
"Thanks to you allowing distribution to the capital, Jenectra Publishing House is growing day by day. Truly, thank you."
It felt a bit burdensome.
Someone bowing and thanking me directly.
But it wasn't a bad feeling.
So I told him to raise his head and thanked him in return.
"I'm grateful that you enjoy what I write."
"Oh, Author."
We parted on warm terms amid cheerful chatter.
Outside, I glanced at the protest in front of Jenectra.
It had quieted down from before; probably couldn't last forever.
Makes sense—no one was paying them to keep it up.
Time to get back to everyday life.
I headed home, wondering what ripples this work would cause.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ What is over-immersion?
Definitions vary by person, but most say it's becoming so absorbed in one thing that you can't pull yourself away.
And Don Quixote turns knights into laughingstocks while making its protagonist the poster child for over-immersion.
Well, slightly different, but broadly speaking.
If modern society, brimming with dopamine, still has plenty of over-immersed folks,
what happens in a dopamine-scarce medieval world like this?
"Ahh! My beloved Dulcinea, please accept my love!"
"Kuhaha! I, Don Saha, shall slay the dragon!"
Titled knights among the nobility began running wild.
Edn's penned and published Don Quixote Volumes 2 and 3 brimmed with adventure.
Sure, there were minor bits like mistaking windmills for giants or sheep flocks for vast armies.
But they were forgivable trifles; Don Quixote's feats were undeniable.
Word even spread that some titled knights had turned wandering knights.
In this era where all believed in the gods, it injected a wind of romance.
Yet amid the fervor, pragmatists existed too.
"They'll get themselves killed. The gods won't help."
"Wandering knight or whatever. Does romance put food on the table?"
Like Sancho, some whispered reality in their ears.
They admitted Don Quixote was fun but couldn't fathom such deep immersion.
So a few began sticking by them like Sanchos.
"Come, Fenr! We're off to hunt an ogre."
"My lord, that's not an ogre—it's just a big tree."
Fenr, the man's squire, tried correcting him, but he wouldn't hear it.
Instead, he bellowed reprimands at Fenr.
"Nonsense! That's a bona fide ogre!"
"Aigoo."
Fenr clutched his forehead, but the knight pressed on undeterred.
He charged the tree, swinging his sword.
Predictably, the blade bounced off, jarring his arm.
The recoil nearly unseated him from his horse.
But the knight saw it as the ogre's counterattack.
"Hah, fighting back!"
"Aigoo! You've been off-kilter for ages now!"
Fenr blamed Don Quixote for worsening his master's condition.
Of course, he'd sneaked a read himself.
It was fun, but he never imagined it'd turn his lord like this.
So he resolved to impersonate a priest, burn the book, and drag him back to reality.
"Come at me!"
Though right now, stopping him took priority.
"Aigoo, snap out of it!"
He rushed to his master, struggling to pull him from the tree.
Where pairs mirrored Don Quixote and Sancho, other forms existed too.
Like the priest trying to haul Don Quixote home.
A prime example was Don Salman von Roman, who'd recently fought a vampire.
"Time to head back."
"Hey now, I'm not done yet."
He wasn't insane or possessed by Don Quixote.
He just liked it with a bit of fervor.
Thus, he wandered as a true knight-errant.
With sound mind, he'd slain vampires and lone orcs, racking up feats anyone would acknowledge.
His squire, serving him, was driven mad.
"Please come home. You're no mercenary, my lord."
"Mercenary? I'm a wandering knight."
His squire looked displeased at the retort.
Finally, he relented with a sigh.
"F-fine, alright. Just please come back. The master and young lady are waiting."
Don Salman—no, Furent Hevins—let out a deep sigh at his squire's words.
He'd been listening quietly, then nodded.
"Got it. Let's head home."
"Really?"
The squire asked joyfully.
He felt a momentary urge to back out but suppressed it.
Not fully ignorable, he deflected with a joke.
"You don't want me running off like this, do you?"
"Aigoo, no! Let's go!"
The squire jumped up in panic, and Furent rose too.
Returning from here meant facing reality.
He regretted it deeply, but he could ignore it no longer.
So he contented himself with his achievements thus far.
Adventures could resume anytime, after all.
With lingering reluctance, he began the journey home.