Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Whispers of the Academy Fanatic
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Afternoon sunlight filtered lazily into Brond Academy's café, Blanc le Joie.
The woman sat haughtily at the prime seat, boasting the best view and a gentle mountain breeze.
Golden hair gleaming with a radiant luster, like the blazing sun.
Sharp yet elegantly drawn eyes of pale lime.
A perfect figure, all the more striking thanks to her perfectly tailored uniform.
It was Princess Diana von Klauzewitz, the spitting image of the empress who had passed away long ago.
And before her, a young lady bowed politely in greeting.
"Your Highness. I trust your day has been peaceful thus far?"
She grasped the hem of her skirt and dipped her head. Rosalyn Wenford, the duke's red-haired daughter, offered a gentle smile.
"To summon a lowly girl like me... I hardly know where to put myself. I do hope I'm not disturbing Your Highness's tranquil tea time..."
"No need for the formalities."
Diana let out a soft chuckle, her signature haughty smile playing on her lips.
"Just act normal already. No need to watch your step around my father anymore, right?"
"Hehe."
Rosalyn lifted her head with a shy giggle at the princess's words.
She sat across from Diana at the same table and said,
"I've missed you, Diana."
The duke's daughter called the princess by name without ceremony.
It was a liberty only possible because they had been friends since childhood.
Diana narrowed her brows ever so slightly, whispering in a bittersweet tone.
"...It must have been tough, huh? While I was away from the academy."
"No, it was manageable. Thanks for worrying about me."
A bright smile bloomed on her face, like a rose rediscovered after a long absence. Relieved by her friend's improved demeanor, Diana let out a sigh.
Though their fathers' relationship had hit rock bottom, the two had never lost the bond they'd built together.
They had even enrolled together in the empire's premier educational institution, Brond Academy.
And as long as the princess was by her side, she had served as an indirect shield for her friend.
But when Diana had no choice but to pause her studies, Rosalyn was left alone.
Without the sturdy protection of the throne's heir apparent.
Bearing only the stigma of being the daughter of a knight despised by the emperor.
Well, at least she'd finally been elevated to duke's daughter status. Small mercies.
'All thanks to Phantom, that playwright?'
"Heh."
"Hm? What's up, Diana?"
"Oh, nothing. Just a rather amusing memory surfacing."
As a princess, she hadn't sent letters in her official capacity, so she hadn't expected royal treatment.
But outright ignoring her? That was downright rude, no matter how you sliced it.
Her adorable little brother, Prince Wolfgang von Klauzewitz, had recommended it so highly.
She'd heard how the play Admiral Li had saved Rosalyn's family from ruin.
So the whole imperial family had gone to see Julius Caesar, and she'd fallen head over heels for Phantom's world, becoming a secret fan herself. And what did she get in return? Utter dismissal and indifference.
'How cheeky.'
While Diana was lost in her thoughts,
As if best friends shared a telepathic bond, Rosalyn propped her chin on her hands and brought up Phantom.
"Oh, right. Diana, did you see Phantom's latest? The Julius Caesar from the other week."
"Of course. The entire imperial family went to watch."
"Right, yeah. Hehe."
Rosalyn giggled dreamily, as if lost in a pleasant reverie, then gazed out at the scenery beyond the café.
"I can't believe someone just like me could write such masterpieces. Admiral Li, Julius Caesar... They don't feel human. More like creations handcrafted by the gods of art and inspiration."
"..."
"You felt it too, right, Diana? That intense, dynamic expressiveness. The profound insights delicately probing the human psyche. The flawless plotting, and the beautiful emotions woven deep into every word. Phantom has to be a gift from the heavens."
She gushed effusively, oblivious to how embarrassing it sounded.
Perhaps because it was her closest friend, she let her fangirl side show more openly.
Watching her friend regain her spark after so long, Diana smirked.
The top-secret intel she'd deduced from watching Julius Caesar recently.
She was curious what reaction it would provoke.
"You know, Rosalyn?"
She stirred sugar into her teacup with a spoon and continued.
"Rumor has it Phantom might actually be an academy student."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "So when's it coming out? When's Phantom's next work dropping?"
"Uwaaaah, I've become a body that can't live without Phantom's new works! If no new release comes, I'll wither away and die right here!"
"Just one more day, and Phantom's new work drops! Because if the wait drags past 24 hours, it'll smack our heads so hard it'll erase our memories!"
...These lunatics.
I felt genuine terror watching the daily laments pour in.
Clear-eyed maniacs, was it? That summed up the cadets' reactions after Julius Caesar.
They'd literally turned into next-work zombies, shuffling around campus chanting "When's the next one?" at every opportunity.
'I knew it'd have a big impact, but this much?'
If I was going to write scripts anyway, better to crank them out fast.
Lest the academy maniacs trigger a zombie apocalypse.
With that in mind, I returned to the dorm...
"So when's the next one dropping?"
"You maniac!"
...and ran into my roommate pulling the same clear-eyed act, hounding me.
"What, am I some script-writing machine? Have some patience!"
"It's all your fault, you bastard! How can you call yourself my friend after this? You turned me into someone who can't live without Phantom's works!"
Morris grabbed my collar playfully, bulging his eyes.
He shook me around, making a huge fuss like I was the one wronged.
"Give 'em back! Give me back the eyes that saw Admiral Li and Julius Caesar! Or hurry up and write the next one to quench this burning thirst!"
...This guy's truly lost it.
The zombie cadets were fake madness.
The real deal was Morris, young master of the Laval family.
He knew Phantom was his balls-to-the-wall buddy, yet acted like this.
Shouldn't he be teasing me about cringing at my own scripts instead?
If it were me, I couldn't imagine becoming a diehard fan of a childhood friend's work.
"Agh, fine. I get it. I'm already brainstorming the next one."
I grumpily shook off his hands and replied.
Morris grinned slyly, his tone smug.
"Heh, yeah. Now even the imperial family has their eyes on you. Can't slack off. If the playwright behind Admiral Li and Julius Caesar goes ghost? The whole empire would flip out."
"Well, that's part of it, but..."
I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out the commemorative ring.
At first, the imperial family had offered an official post outright.
But I'd flat-out refused.
'Who do they think they're kidnapping to work like a royal prime minister?'
No thanks to dying of overwork in the palace. And court intrigue? Hard pass.
So this ring was the compromise.
VIP treatment at any establishment, with all costs billed to the imperial family. A sort of credit card.
In short, the empire would foot the bill for maintaining Great Playwright Phantom's dignity from now on.
'Man, they sure don't skimp on material rewards.'
I smirked and told Morris,
"But it's not like I'm writing just to feel the pressure."
I was aware I'd gone too far to back out now, but honestly, that wasn't the whole story.
'Turns out it's kinda fun once you get into it.'
It started as a whim, then just not wanting to spit out the sponsorship money.
But after successfully staging Admiral Li and Julius Caesar, my mindset shifted a bit.
Knowing my scripts actually brought joy to the masses.
That they influenced society in big ways.
And that someone miserable, like Senior Rosalyn, could find happiness because of it.
It was a fresh thrill I never felt as a mere spectator.
'Yeah, well. Gotta prep for worst-case scenarios, like the family going bust.'
Maintaining a double life as the mysterious playwright wasn't bad.
Fame as Phantom, cash as Balthazar. Perfect split.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 'So, what story next?'
Thirty minutes after kicking Morris out for focus and sitting at my desk.
I munched on strawberry jam cookies to recharge my brain, deep in thought.
Premium snacks specially ordered from a fancy patisserie, courtesy of Morris, for pure creative immersion.
But even sugar didn't rev my brain like before.
'I've done plenty of serious, epic tales. This time, something light and comedic...'
Maybe because I'd just done back-to-back biopics of Admiral Yi Sun-sin and Caesar?
This time, genre choice hit before plot worries.
Admiral Li and Julius Caesar were both hero epics, essentially the same vein.
Even the tastiest food gets old if every day.
Action? Follow with healing. Horror? Then comedy.
Time to expand Phantom's creative boundaries.
But "great men biographies" boxed me in hard.
'Where's a light, comedic great man's life?'
Great men are remembered for triumphs over trials and tribulations.
No one in my mental list had lived a slapstick comedy.
Maybe someone who made similar genre films, but finding someone who lived it? Tough... Huh?
'Films?'
Artists count as great men too.
And for them, their works are life-defining.
Hayao Miyazaki? Spirited Away. Spielberg? Jurassic Park.
Famous directors remembered more for filmography than biography, right?
And I knew one comedy king: director-slash-actor.
The British artist who led 20th-century culture, slapstick master.
"...Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy from afar!"
Recalling his legendary quote, I dredged up hazy memories.
From before reincarnating as Balthazar, my past life as Ha Eun-seong, movie and drama addict.
To relive those silent film laughs I'd rewatched tenfold, howling every time.