Chapter 45
Chapter 45
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Dr. Jekyll and Hyde (8)
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Before receiving fan letters in earnest, there were the preliminary ones.
Of course, since they weren't official, there was no obligation to check them.
But these were from fans too.
Ignoring them would prick my conscience, no matter who I was.
If I'd gained popularity by bringing over Earth stories, the least I could do was give them a look.
So I opened the letters.
"What the hell is this?"
The more I read, the less sense it made.
It was crammed with nothing but arcane words, like deciphering some ancient script.
It felt like wading through a pedantic, bone-dry treatise.
No, it wasn't just my imagination.
"...Let's check the others first."
I put off the letter from that Freng person for later.
It'd take time to unpack all those convoluted terms.
Thankfully, the rest were straightforward.
Cheering me on, or demanding back-to-back releases.
[Author-nim. If you drop the next work soon, there won't be any bloodshed.]
...Yeah, probably a joke?
Some were a bit on the ominous side.
But that was standard fan mail.
Freng's was the outlier.
After going through them all, only the problem child remained.
I unfolded the first one again and cocked my head.
A little sigh of admiration slipped out too.
"Wow, feels like translating the English original."
I didn't have any translation skill, after all.
So when I was born here, I'd had to learn the local language.
Even then, grad school had smoothed out porting Earth novels.
"...This goes beyond inventing words. No footnotes either."
If this guy wrote a novel, it'd get shredded.
Unfriendly as hell, skipping even basic explanations.
Context might allow some paraphrasing, sure.
But I pieced it together anyway.
Author-nim, I enjoyed your writing. As I read, it sparked deep reflections on humanity. Good and evil—the eternal human torment. Some call it God's will, beyond question. Others say it's a parent's—God's—way to keep wayward children in line. But here's my take: Good and evil might just be human inventions. Like class distinctions. Odd thought, maybe. But you might agree. I read Dr. Jekyll and Hyde. Keep true to your convictions ahead. "Damn, I nailed the summary."
Swapped out the tough words for simple ones, slashed the florid nonsense.
Why did nobles here love dressing up their prose so much?
They could fill a page waxing poetic about a rose.
Anyway, this screamed nobility.
Commoners scraped for paper; they wouldn't waste it on verbal fireworks.
The stationery was plain, though—no smoking gun.
"But seriously, what's the point?"
A review of Dr. Jekyll and Hyde?
Or hinting at something deeper?
Truth was, I didn't care to dig. Suspecting a reader felt wrong.
Why bother? No upside. Just a hassle.
But the esoteric vocab stuck with me.
Imperfect translation or not, it reeked of subtext.
So I mulled it over.
Knock knock.
"Huh? Who's there."
"It's me, young master."
Ah, Biena.
I said come in. She hurried inside.
No chance to ask—she thrust a newspaper at me.
I took it, scanned from page one.
Then I spotted the weirdness.
"Prince assassination? Ties to Venta and the Prometheus author?"
What?
Ridiculous claims, one after another. Unbelievable.
Me, linked to an assassination out of nowhere!
I stared, then huffed out a breath.
Tore my eyes from the paper, gave Biena a deadpan look.
"So people are brawling over whether my stuff connects to the hit?"
"Yes. What now? Go aggressive—"
"Nah, let it ride."
Biena tilted her head, baffled.
I started to explain, but she got it—exclaimed softly.
"Right, you didn't want the author spotlight."
"Yeah. And stepping in now? Bad optics."
Clarifying could spawn worse rumors.
Better if the palace handled it or it fizzled out.
Biena nodded.
"Got it. My bad. Schedule as usual, then."
She almost clocked out of work mode but snapped back.
My days were free anyway; she'd tend to mansion duties.
After she left, I eyed the paper again.
Told her it was fine, but...
"Kinda bugs me."
Wouldn't hurt to poke around.
Not to fix it or speak up.
Just curiosity.
I stood, left the room, headed for Jenectra Publishing House.
They'd have connections, intel I lacked.
Just been there—annoying to return so soon.
Walked slow.
Still arrived quick. Slipped in the back door like always.
Strolled into the president's office casual as ever.
"Hey. 'Long time' doesn't fit—I was just here."
"True. Welcome back, author-nim."
Greetings done, we sat.
Tea and cookies thawed the air, then business.
"You know about the Fourth Prince hit. Venta's the prime suspect."
"Yeah. Want the dirt?"
Nodded. He clocked it.
Said he could share that much, dove in.
"Where to start? Venta's entrance first."
Foren's rundown gripped me.
Venta's debut, prince's chat with him, fallout now.
Stuff papers skipped.
Others might print it, but not this rag.
Done, he leaned in whisper-close.
"So, which side, author-nim?"
"...Come again?"
"Ha, no sweat. Looked like you leaned one way."
Whoa. Danger zone—don't answer.
Knew the ask: take on good, evil, humanity.
Main camps: two.
God's will sets good and evil.
Or humans drew the lines; God enforces as proxy.
Latter fit me closer.
But the question itself? Trap.
Earth debates echoed.
Forced an awkward grin.
"Ha, next plot's more pressing."
"New work already brewing?!"
Dodged with Earth flashbacks—landed perfect.
Chatted it up, bounced.
"Venta, huh."
Skipped straight home.
Walking clears the head.
Wandered streets, sunk in thought.
Foren's Venta tale.
Eerily familiar.
Not mere Earth roots—the letter.
"Freng hit good and evil, humanity too."
Coincidence?
Could be.
Jekyll and Hyde is about that; overlap normal.
Gut said link between them.
Least, they'd crossed paths.
Brain inconclusive. Instinct locked in.
Worse: dragged-in vibe.
"Nah. Just loose ties."
Shoved down the dread.
Me, in hot water?
Straightened thoughts, homeward. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The black-robed man eyed the vial in his grip.
Inspired by that book: Dr. Jekyll and Hyde.
No formulas, no ingredients listed.
Influence purely conceptual.
Half spur-of-moment brew—strayed from pure effect.
Anyway, he aimed to peddle it to nobles.
Vital for the coup ahead, maybe.
Sought one man.
A noble who'd botched prying on Edn before.
Deep in talks with the navy-robed man, plotting fresh.
"Pardon."
Black Robe crashed their huddle.
Soundproofed, anti-bug, alarms—breezed past.
"What the hell?"
Navy Robe glared, pissed.
Black Robe shrugged it off.
"New experiment. First test wrapped. Onto round two."
Set the vial on the table.
Noble clueless. Navy knew.
Black Robe'd been holed up tinkering weird.
Navy probed careful.
"Effects? Gains from test? Role?"
"Unleashes power to seize your desires. Payoff? One step nearer our goal."
Navy blinked, thrown.
Figured just mad alchemy. Not this.
Working for the cause? Wild.
Greenlit it.
"Sounds half-baked, though."
"Spot on. Unstable."
"Stash for brass, ease 'em in."
Black Robe: good enough.
Goal met, spun—gone in a flash.
Left: Navy Robe, oblivious noble.
Navy snatched the vial, eyed the noble.
"First volunteer?"
Voice serene as glass.