Don Quixote - 3: The Overimmersion Plague
The better Don Quixote sold, the bigger the scale of the pirated knockoffs plagiarizing it grew. They weren't just ripping off the plot anymore—they were churning out bizarre tales starring Don Quixote himself, calling them Don Quixote Part 2.
These hacks flooding the market showed even less respect for the original than the hate-bait from my past life. In the end, I had no choice but to scrap my plans to slowly release Don Quixote Part 2. If I let this go on, the name Don Quixote would end up splattered in filth like sewage.
I took the manuscript for Don Quixote Part 2 and visited the publisher. It was the small press called Kindersley Publishing that had put out Don Quixote Part 1. Thanks to its success, it was no longer small by any stretch anymore.
"Author!"
"Ah, yes. President. The publishing house has grown quite a bit, hasn't it?"
"It's all thanks to you! Now, now, don't stand out here—come inside—"
Since I'd let them know I was coming ahead of time, the president was already out front to greet me. Dolling Kindersley. She was a young female entrepreneur who'd inherited and run Kindersley Publishing. She was also a pretty sharp editor. She'd been the one to proofread Don Quixote Part 1, which I'd written referencing the "original."
She led me to the reception room, and the moment the door closed, her eyes sparkled as she raised her voice. She sounded just like my brother Eric.
"Don Quixote is a godsend! It's not just of this era—it's a literary masterpiece for the ages!"
Well, it was a literary masterpiece from history that I'd plagiarized.
"Fan letters are even arriving from the frontier barony near the border! Oh, all the fan letters for you are safely stored in our magical vault, so don't worry! It's the top-of-the-line model—there's only one in the whole publishing house!"
"Wouldn't that kind of vault be better for unpublished manuscripts or valuables...?"
"The fans' love for Author Homerus is the most precious treasure!"
It made sense, but why was she, the editor, saying it instead of me, the author? Was it normal for an editor to overimmerse herself in a work like this? Then again, it wasDon Quixote, so I couldn't blame her. Masterpieces had the power to draw people in all on their own.
"Yeah, sure. Hand over the fan letters. I've got something new that needs storing in that vault anyway."
"...Pardon?"
"You think I came here just to chat? You're already depositing my royalties straight to my account."
"N-No way—"
I pulled a thick paper envelope from my coat and handed it to Dolling. Her trembling hands took it.
"Th-This is—is it what I think it is...?"
"The manuscript for Don Quixote Part 2."
"Hnnngh—"
"...President?"
Dolling clutched the manuscript to her chest and collapsed limply. I thought she was hamming it up, but no—she'd actually fainted from the shock. Even unconscious, her face was beaming.
"President, wake up. Dolling."
"Hnnngh—! Ah, I-I must've been dreaming. Goodness, I dreamed the Don Quixote Part 2 manuscript was already out..."
"It's not a dream."
I pointed to the paper envelope cradled in her arms. This time, she finally grasped the situation and let out a joyous shriek.
"Kyaaah—!"
"Ugh."
Was screaming a passive skill for people in this world when they got surprised? Actually, it was the same back home. Jeez.
"Huff huff... This—this has the Don Quixote Part 2 manuscript inside, right?"
"Yes. Please make sure it doesn't leak before official publication."
"Of course! Until it's officially out, I'll lock every single employee inside the building—no eating, sleeping, or shitting outside!"
"No need to go that far..."
Her intensity made my voice shrink without me realizing. A president threatening to imprison her whole staff? Scary.
"The staff would be thrilled to read this manuscript even a day sooner—they'd gladly accept being locked up!"
"No way."
"Hehe... If you don't believe me, want to bet on it?"
"...I have a feeling I'd lose, so no thanks."
"Hee hee."
Dolling spun in place, gazing at the envelope like a lovesick fool. I prided myself on loving literature, but I could never get that carried away.
"Looks like publishing is your true calling, President."
"You think so? A few months ago, I was seriously thinking of just selling the business and retiring to the countryside..."
She planted a smacking kiss on the envelope and looked at me.
"The moment I encountered your Don Quixote, I realized I'd kept this publishing house alive all these years for the honor of bringing this great work into the world. Don Quixote is my bible, and you, Author, are my messiah."
"That's a bit of an exaggeration..."
"Is it?"
Dolling fiddled with a few items on her desk, then grabbed the envelope and headed to the bookshelf. She pulled a book, and with a whir of clockwork gears straight out of a Gothic novel, the wall slid open to reveal a hidden safe. And inside that? A gleaming, sci-fi blue magical vault. That must've been the "magical vault" she'd bragged about.
She placed her hand on it and sang the passphrase.
"To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go. To right the unrightable wrong, to love pure and chaste from afar, to try when your arms are too weary, to reach the unreachable star."
"A line from Don Quixote..."
The inside of the magical vault was far larger than its exterior suggested. It was stuffed full of letter envelopes. Stepping aside, Dolling smiled brightly as she showed off the contents.
"These are all fan letters for you."
"...That's a lot."
"They're still pouring in from all over the world. Factor in shipping times... In just a week, it'll probably double this pile. Still think I was exaggerating?"
"It's getting a little scary."
"That the book you wrote is being treated like a bible?"
"No..."
I pointed at the paper envelope still in her hand, forcing a hollow smile. This was the frenzy just from releasing Part 1.
"When Don Quixote Part 2—with its ending—hits the market, the impact won't even be comparable."
Right now, while the heat from Part 1 hadn't died down yet. If Part 2 dropped now...
"That is what's getting scary..."
What on earth would happen? I couldn't even imagine it. I just laughed.
And as she watched me, Dolling's cheeks flushed deep red, her face that of a woman on the verge of losing control.
"If you say that about it... I can look forward to it, right? My heart can pound like this, right? I can barely stand not ripping this envelope open right now and devouring what's inside..."
"If you could hold off until after I leave."
"You're leaving already? Don't you have other business?"
"Ha ha—"
Quite the cheeky send-off. I bowed politely and left the reception room. Through the thick wooden door, I could hear her ragged breathing. What an eccentric woman.
A nuclear bomb had dropped on the capital.
A nuke called Don Quixote Part 2.
"One copy of Don Quixote Part 2, please!"
"H-Hey, no cutting! Whoa, don't push!"
Not the haphazard pirate editions floating around the streets, but the realDon Quixote Part 2 printed by its official publisher had hit the shelves. People swarmed to buy it, shoving and clamoring. Among them were servants sent by noble houses, and even nobles in disguise who'd come themselves. For nobles who embodied "watching from the sidelines," this proved Don Quixote's insane pull—rushing out just to read a book hours earlier.
One by one, those who succeeded in buying it escaped the mob, turning the capital into utter chaos.
"If the ending sucks after all this hassle, I'll shit all over that publisher."
But something even stranger happened next. People reading Don Quixote started giggling... and by the time they closed the book, they were sobbing uncontrollably.
The capital's square, usually noisy with chatter, now echoed only softly with laughter and weeping from those clutching their books. At a glance, it looked like a madness-inducing plague had broken out.
The same was happening all across the empire.
"Let's mourn Don Quixote! Let's all go mad for the man who lived madly and died sane! Let's all dream!"
Don Quixote had unleashed a poison on the empire.
The ultimate toxin: overimmersion.
There was no antidote.