Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: The Phantom Impersonation Contest
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"Puhahaha!"
"Fuhahaha!"
"Kyahaha!"
...
...You crazy lunatics!!
>It had been about three days since I'd unleashed the Charlie Chaplin-style short play through the Gelorusina Theater Troupe.
The laughter echoing from every direction was driving me truly insane.
Was this what it felt like to be a prisoner locked in the cell next to the Joker or Harley Quinn at Arkham Asylum?
They were giggling incessantly, like they'd been dosed with Joker Venom, and it was giving me a splitting headache.
>But the real problem wasn't the classmates I ran into at school.
"Uhahaha! My stomach hurts! I'm dying! This is hilarious!"
"Stomach hurts, I'm dying!"
Morris, rolling around on his bed all day after coming back from the theater, cackling nonstop.
Even when I stomped on him in frustration with my foot, he showed no signs of stopping.
>With my roommate carrying on like this, I was starting to hear hallucinations now.
Hallucinations of someone laughing so hard they choked to death...
"Hurk, hurk, guh...!"
...Not a hallucination.
"Breathe, you idiot! If the young master of the Lavalle family dies laughing, what a disgrace to the house!"
>Of course I knew. Charlie Chaplin was literally the god of comedy.
Especially my all-time favorite, The Gold Rush—I could watch it dozens of times and never get tired.
Just imagining Big Jim, driven mad by hunger, trying to eat Chaplin was enough to burst out laughing.
>But even so, there had to be limits, right?
The worst part was that there was someone else even more affected than Morris.
"Um, Senior Rosalyn?"
"S-sorry, Balthazar, khk! Hoo, focus... focus... hng...!"
"...Should we wrap up today's discussion here? The other team members skipped out to go to Gelorusina anyway."
Senior Rosalyn, stifling her laughter so hard she was making crying sounds.
Her valiant effort was so pitiful that I decided to call the meeting early.
>This was the group project for the liberal arts class, which I'd stepped up to lead.
If even my greatest hope and partner, Senior Rosalyn, was like this, there was truly no saving it.
>Rosalyn had clearly reached her limit too. She bowed deeply to her junior in apology and bolted.
"Sorry, Balthazark! M-my part is crystal clearg! I-I'll get it organized and sent by tomorrowgh!"
"Y-yeah. Go rest."
>I'd had plenty of experience in my past life with group projects getting wrecked by free riders.
But one getting wrecked because everyone couldn't stop laughing? That was a first.
>I couldn't even blame the team members for it, since the culprit behind all the laughter was me, their leader.
Thanks to that, I ended up sitting alone at the table, sipping freshly brewed coffee.
Powerlessly listening to the students' roars of laughter, like some kind of background music.
>'...Should I cancel the sequel contract right now?'
City Lights, the warm romance between a blind girl and a tramp protagonist.
The Circus, which ended on a bittersweet note but was still an undeniable masterpiece, and so on.
>I'd promised to submit them one by one, but just imagining the fallout sent chills down my spine.
No exaggeration—the capital might grind to a complete halt from all the laughter.
>'No good.'
I needed to find some breakthrough to turn this situation around, no matter what.
As the old saying goes: He who ties the knot must untie it.
The one who'd unleashed laughter hell on the empire was none other than Balthazar Arture.
So I had to be the one to reel it back in.
>'What if I throw out an incredibly sad story? Something so tear-jerking they can't handle it?'
There were plenty of great figures whose lives were pure tragedy.
Like Van Gogh, who lived his whole life tormented by mental illness; Frida Kahlo, an icon of misfortune; or Ivan the Terrible, half-mad from childhood abuse.
>But it felt like chasing away hyenas only to summon a tiger, so I quickly scrapped the idea.
'If the laughter bomb turns into a tear bomb, can I even handle that?'
Any emotion in excess is harmful to the body.
Suppressing laughter with another emotion wasn't a real solution.
So I needed some other brilliant idea to calm things down.
>'I can't break the contract to write the Chaplin series for Gelorusina anyway.'
As I racked my brain for a way out,
"...!"
One idea struck me.
Inspiration sparked from an anecdote about this play's protagonist and creator, Charlie Chaplin himself.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "...A Phantom writer imitation contest?"
"More precisely, it's imitating characters from Phantom's works. We rank them and give a prize to the one who does it most convincingly."
Renua and Isabella had gathered to hear my proposed 'big event.'
I explained the fan contest to them with utmost sincerity.
>"Hoo? Imitating characters from the plays? That's a fun idea."
"I'm for it. Strike while the iron is hot—with Phantom's works riding high, there's no downside to this."
"But who decides the winner? Should the actors be the judges?"
"Rankings decided by vote after the contest ends. We'll let in non-participants too, just fans coming to watch."
"Oh? So the theatergoers become judges themselves?"
"Nice one, our Mr. Phantom. You could make it big as a planner."
Thankfully, both theater managers were taking my proposal positively.
I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
>'That's how buzz works—crush it with even bigger buzz.'
The laughter bomb had already exploded massively.
If I couldn't defuse it, I had to smother the hype with an event that would excite every Phantom fan.
Fans dressing up as characters from Phantom's works themselves.
And for the top cosplayer, a one-on-one meeting with Phantom.
>'Chaplin had a similar episode, I think?'
Sometime between 1915 and 1920.
Charlie Chaplin stumbled upon a 'Chaplin Look-Alike Contest' in the suburbs by chance.
>Playfully, he disguised himself and decided to enter.
Who could imitate Chaplin better than Chaplin himself? Pure confidence.
And hilariously, Chaplin didn't take first place.
Shockingly, an unknown fan mimicked his character better than he did.
>'Of course, I don't even know if the story's true.'
Exact year? Unknown.
Precise location of the contest? Unknown.
Even Chaplin's final ranking varies by account.
Some say third place, others twentieth.
>But did veracity even matter now?
What mattered was I could adapt it to turn crisis into opportunity.
'Because I'm sneaking in among the contestants myself!'
A one-on-one fan meeting? Why bother with that hassle?
What if some obsessed sasaeng fan tried to rip off my mask?
The fan meeting promo was just bait.
My real plan was to win incognito as Balthazar Arture and block any actual meeting.
Chaplin may have failed, but I've got this.
I'm a reincarnator from a world where Yi Sun-sin, Caesar, and Chaplin were real history.
That's a massive edge in experience over your average isekai native, right?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "A character imitation contest?"
"You just have to perfectly mimic one character from Phantom's works?"
The contest news spread through the academy just as fast as word of Phantom's new play.
Cadets' eyes practically rolled back in their heads.
Not only was it a golden chance to cosplay characters from their beloved playwright,
but the winner got a one-on-one fan meeting with Phantom as the prize.
>Phantom, who'd dazzlingly debuted with Admiral Li and stayed hidden in the shadows ever since.
The pinnacle of mystique, ignoring even a duke family member's meeting request.
Thanks to that, Brond Academy, which had been ruled by laughter for a while, now fell under the new reign of cosplay fervor.
>"I'm going with Admiral Li! I called dibs, so don't copy me!"
"As if! I'm doing Admiral Li!"
"Kukuku, finally I get to become Caesar myself?"
"Chaplin imitation? Piece of cake! First place is mine, you amateurs!"
The cadets were buzzing with excitement, picking their cosplay roles.
As Phantom intended, the capital finally escaped laughter hell while preparing for the contest.
>And the one most thrilled by the news? None other than Rosalyn Wenford.
"A-a meeting with Phantom writer... one-on-one!"
The duke's lady of Wenford house muttered, her hands trembling uncontrollably.
Princess Diana let out a sigh at the sight of her friend in such a severe state.
>"Deep breaths first, Rosalyn. You're spilling your drink."
"Meeting... meeting... one-on-one with Phantom...!"
...She'd really gone all the way with this.
Diana smirked faintly as she watched her friend, whose fandom reigned supreme at the academy.
Of course, the princess knew full well
how desperately Rosalyn wanted to meet Phantom.
How badly she wanted to pour out her heartfelt feelings to him.
>Normally, Diana would have cheered Rosalyn on wholeheartedly.
She'd have pulled strings behind the scenes to help her win.
But not this time. Diana wasn't keen on handing over victory so easily.
>"Let's enter together, Rosalyn."
"Huh?!"
"You and me. A friendly rivalry. We'll see who understands Phantom's worldview better, who can embody his characters more perfectly."
The irritating genius grandmaster who'd ignored her secret fan letters like they were nothing.
Imagining his still-mysterious appearance, Diana pouted.
'Even if I win, he probably won't show his face.'
Someone who'd gone to such lengths to hide his identity wouldn't reveal it now.
He'd surely come disguised to the meeting.
Wearing a mask or hood to conceal his features.
>'But that'll be enough.'
She'd tried deducing Phantom's identity countless times, but decisive clues were too scarce.
To pinpoint who he was, she'd need to observe him up close.
And this contest was the perfect stepping stone.
>"Feeling shortchanged, Rosalyn? Me butting in without yielding the chance?"
She asked, just in case it had hurt her feelings.
But Rosalyn's reaction was the complete opposite of what she'd expected.
>"No? Quite the reverse."
She shook her head side to side with a smile.
Not her usual gentle, pure smile.
It was a smile burning with pure competitive spirit and resolve.
>"I'm thrilled, honestly. It means my best friend Diana loves Phantom's plays just as much. No one could know how happy I am to share tastes with a friend like Her Highness the Princess."
"Oho?"
"So I won't hold back at all. Steel yourself, Diana. I'm definitely winning this."
"Hehe, got it. Give it your all, Rosalyn."
Diana gracefully accepted the duke's lady's challenge, elegantly resting her chin on her hand.
A motion befitting a princess, and one day, an empress.
>In truth, Diana had already set her sights on a character upon hearing about the contest.
The heroine of Julius Caesar, Caesar's sweet lover.
The Egyptian queen who embodied dignity, charm, and wisdom all together—just like the princess herself.