Chapter 27
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Liu Bei and Cao Cao (2)
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- Let's make the contract official. But the higher-ups are showing a lot of interest in this novel too, so would it be alright if I get back to you on the details in a week?
- Sure, go ahead.
After hearing Gilford's words—which could be good news or a disaster—I headed home.
"Haha, stand up straight!"
I spent fulfilling days training Historie with a whip.
Of course, there were incidents where I barely stopped her ghastly attempt at lèse-majesté by shoving chocolate into her mouth just as she was about to fire laser beams from her eyes.
The result?
"I've realized it. The essence of web novels."
"You've finally reached the peak."
"Peak?"
"The peak of ignorance."
"Eek."
Unlike before, when even content typed by hand stuck to LLM clichés,
she was starting to show real improvement.
It seemed like having her read the other works serialized in the newspapers—building up my 'Fallen Noble Politics' stockpile—had helped a lot.
There's only one way to write good novels.
Read a ton. Write a ton.
Think a ton.
Her thinking speed was no issue, coming from a super-advanced AI that far surpassed humanity, but the rest needed work.
At this rate,
she'd make a fine fodder factory for me.
"Heh heh heh."
"Based on my big data analysis, Kim Yul is having lewd thoughts right now."
"Not denying it."
True to her virtual avatar roots, Historie expressed her contempt with black effects around her eyes.
"Anyway, I'm off. Keep writing hard."
"Bring chocolate bread on the way back."
That damn chocolate bread.
The memory of getting stranded in the Demon Realm last time I went to buy some came flooding back fresh as ever.
But hey, it was tasty.
"Buy five, and I'll eat three."
"That's unfair."
After exchanging that silly banter, I cracked the door open to check outside—just in case that stray dog was growling again.
All clear. I stepped out of the lab.
Unlike the lab with its 24/7 air purifier, the somewhat stale air outside irritated my lungs.
"Just one week left, huh."
Maybe because chatting nonstop with Historie had become a habit, I muttered to myself without thinking.
Lately, the capital's air quality had felt worse, so I'd swapped walks for cycling indoors and barely left the lab.
Groceries? Historie handled that after finishing her stray dog defense duty.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say I was living the stereotypical writer's life.
.
.
.
As I leisurely took in the scenery and reached the square,
"......?"
I couldn't believe my eyes.
Right in the middle of the square, where a Ganef statue should have stood,
the statue was gone. In its place loomed a massive tree, like it'd been genetically engineered.
A peach tree.
And out of season, it was bursting with peach blossoms.
"Nah, no way."
I swallowed hard, telling myself it was coincidence, just another fantasy breed, and headed to the newspaper office to find Gilford.
"Oh, you saw it? The bosses are thrilled. They say it's opening a new era of racial harmony."
"......Pardon?"
"By the way, you have quite the political sense, sir. Making the protagonist a high elf."
"Did you maybe eat dried persimmons with fermented crab?"
"Fermented crab? Hmm, I do like dried persimmons though."
Not some hallucination from a forbidden recipe combo.
What the hell was he talking about? I just listened quietly to Gilford's explanation.
The conclusion?
Liu Bei has big ears, so high elf.
Zhang Fei is known for his beard, so dwarf hybrid.
Guan Yu—no dwarf would grow a beard like that, so human.
"......That's ridiculous."
"Huh? It's not?"
Sure, I'd heard urban legends about big-eared swordmasters being busty elf beauties, but
seeing people who knew the Three Kingdoms treat it as a serious meme made my head spin.
"Ah, Duke Schnaizen is pleased too—promised bonuses on success and promotion—"
"Of course. Liu Bei is a high elf. Noble bloodline and all."
From today, Liu Bei is an elf.
It's based on Romance anyway.
I briefly considered swerving to a Three Kingdoms musical base instead of Romance, but that would leave Cao Cao hanging.
"Oh, and."
"Yes."
"That artist who drew Caesar—is he a friend of yours, sir?"
"Yes."
Not just any friend.
The invincible roommate...
Ah, shit. Infected again.
"If it's alright, could we commission illustrations again? We'll pay separately. Here's the draft."
"Gasp."
The moment I heard the illustration fee scale,
I seriously pondered twisting my grad student failure of a roommate's tree from writing to art.
I should've majored in art instead of history.
Even if I flopped, a mustache would guarantee isekai success here.
* * *
In the empire ruled and governed by humans,
the Wisperaud Ducal House stood alone, composed entirely of high elves.
No matter how much they lived among humans,
they never forgot the sacred elven duty: to cherish and love nature in accordance with the holy will of the World Tree.
But.
With magitech fully introduced to the empire, their position became precarious.
Magitech overuse inevitably devoured surrounding mana, so they tried to block its spread,
but ultimately failed.
Their public image plummeted in tandem.
Thus.
"Humans are mortal, but art is immortal. We should seize this chance to firmly establish elves as paragons of justice."
With those words from the family head, Duke Schnaizen,
"Hmm, it carries the fragrance of a masterpiece, doesn't it?"
the de facto owner of Truth Newspaper,
Duke Schnaizen's eldest daughter,
Chloe von Wisperaud, also voiced strong support for the plan.
And so.
Three days before Kim Yul's novel officially began serialization,
the convention of front-page politics was broken.
"What's this?"
"Serialization preview...?"
"What? What does it hint at?"
From morning, Truth Newspaper readers were first drawn to the two men flanking the front page.
A style strikingly similar to the Caesar finale artwork, yet slightly more realistic.
What Kim Yul called the 'Three Kingdoms style': two handsome men.
A human in blue, smirking with charisma and confidence.
A high elf in green, smiling softly and kindly.
Between them, a tawny river flowed, carrying words like ripples.
The sky was parched, the earth cracked.
People starved, merely wailing.
Heaven ignored the human sky.
Too high, child's screams unheard.
If it can't embrace the merely hungry,
how can it be true human heaven?
Long divided, must unite.
Long united, must divide.
Bring this blue sky lower.
Sweep clouds so human cries reach it.
Then they will hear.
The clamor of the starving, their sorrow.
In this piercingly blue, chillingly cold world,
the golden sun will rise at last.
Thus, people,
don't live groveling.
Stand and die.
The moment they absorbed the final line,
at that audacity, that profound meaning,
people shuddered.
Unprecedented phrasing, seismic literary shock never felt before, echoing like poetry.
Enchanted, they turned the page.
As if it were the most natural thing.
The second page continued the tale,
as if pages dedicated to literature had been carved out and slapped upfront.
Perhaps thanks to the era-transcending punch of 'stand and die,'
people unwittingly devoured the rest, savoring every bit.
On one land, one empire alone existed.
But empire's sky was cloud-blinded, people's lives sinking endlessly into abyss-like hardship.
Here, one man raised a flag and sang.
Behind him, countless starving followed.
All wore yellow turbans on heads.
People called them Yellow Turbans.
It began to restore world's order,
but ended in mindless destruction and slaughter.
It was turbulent times.
….
….
Right here.
A man sought to end the chaos.
In the empire's dazzling capital Luoyang, music echoed, coquettish laughs and moans overflowed.
"The empire is already rotten."
Inhaling dust-mixed wind by the window, Cao Cao swallowed a sigh.
And.
He clenched his fist tight.
….
….
Here too.
A man grieved the chaos.
Far from capital, in a peaceful village untouched by Yellow Turbans yet.
Youth Liu Bei of Zhuo County gazed at the notice on the wall.
Nation in peril—brave souls rise and join to crush the Yellow Turbans.
He turned.
"Oh no, oh no…."
"Not safe here anymore!"
Yellow Turban victims wandering family-less, anxious onlookers filled his eyes.
"Will the empire crumble like this…."
Distant imperial descendant, powerless to act amid horror, he sighed deeply, frustration unspent.
And.
He clenched his fist tight.
No shocking vocab from page one, but
combining both pages clearly previewed the tale ahead.
Expectant eyes dropped to the bottom of the novel page.
There:
[Empire's Great Literary Giant, Our Paper's Pride, Legend of Political Drama.]
[Ulysses' Long-Awaited Sequel. Premieres in 3 Days.]
The promo text that made Kim Yul cringe was there.
But the masses prefer dopamine hits over artsy philosophy,
Empire's Great Literary Giant!
Our Paper's Pride!
Legend of Political Drama!
Long-Awaited Sequel!
Each hype word screamed 'How insanely good is it?'
Expectations crept higher.
.
.
.
And at last, the big day.
Truth Newspaper's front page, back to endless politics as if nothing happened, changed again.
This time, a single pure image, no text.
Centered: high elf with signature eyes—blue irises sparkling yellow stars.
A burly man, dwarf-like but too tall, with standout beard, hearty.
And a cold-faced man with beard longer than his hair.
These three clinked cups under a peach tree eerily like the World Tree.
The image alone stirred men's hearts,
elves, dwarves, humans—racial rivals—gathered together.
People skipped other pages, dove straight to the novel.
And read 'The Imperial Kinsman Hides His Bloodline.'
They saw strangers unite over shared lament of wretched reality, bond as sworn brothers in oath.
Pictures can limit imagination sometimes,
but well-directed ones steer thought itself.
Unknowingly, 'bros before hoes' accumulated in hearts, bit by bit.
Of course, a sharp reader noted, 'Chapter 1 spills bloodline but title's "hides"?'
But even they couldn't stop turning the page.
Thus,
readers naturally flowed into the worldview-sharing sequel, 'The Villain Hides His Ambition.'
No peach tree oath impact,
but:
- The people follow not Zhang Jue's sorcery, but hunger. The greedy pigs in the castle made them starve.
Young official Cao Cao sharply critiqued the empire's structure.
Accepting governorship decree to quell Yellow Turbans fearlessly.
Like it or not, readers overlapped him with the previous work's
The Fallen Noble Excels at Politics—Caesar.