Plagiarist Author
There were very limited ways for a young child like me to make money.
Society had nailed it down with laws from the start: minors couldn't work.
Of course, with parental permission, something like a part-time job might be possible, but that was only for high schoolers and up.
At the very least, with this elementary schooler's body, there was no way for me to earn money through labor.
But I didn't need to earn money through labor anyway.
All the novels I'd read up until now were still intact in my head. I could just write books and make money that way. Anyone could write books regardless of age, with zero barriers to entry. All you needed was a computer, and anyone—man, woman, young, or old—could do it.
Heh heh...
And this was a parallel world, to boot.
I'd searched the internet for the novels in my memory, and not a single one turned up. By the timeline, the first volume of some should have come out a few years ago, but they hadn't been published. So there was no need to feel guilty toward any original authors. They didn't exist in the first place! With no original creators around, I could freely plagiarize to my heart's content.
Some might call it plagiarism, but that only applied to me. No one else would ever know I was a plagiarist author. It was from a parallel world, after all. If I tried writing originals from scratch, I'd end up with something bland and boring.
But what if I wrote proven hits? Naturally, I'd get great reactions. I'd only go for novels that had massive popular success. I'd make money from novels and treat Mom and Dad like kings.
They'd sold everything they had to save my life, so I'd devote everything I had to give them happy memories in return.
Family was way better than I'd ever imagined. As an orphan, it was something I'd never have. Being an orphan basically meant having no family. But reincarnation had worked its miracle, giving me one now.
I logged into the novel site, signed up, and started writing.
The entire contents of the novel were perfectly preserved in my mind. It didn't take long to write a full installment.
My typing speed clocked in at 200 to 300 strokes per minute. Supposedly, the real speed demons hit 500, but I didn't feel the need to push that far. At my pace, I could finish a chapter in about 20 minutes.
It was cheat-level speed. Average web novelists took 5 or 6 hours per chapter. Even the fastest ones needed 3 or 4.
Sure, there were outliers who cranked one out in an hour, but they were rare. For most web novel authors, a full day was the norm for one chapter.
I'd already decided on this first one.
Sunlight Painter
It was a game fantasy that drew a bold line in Korea's literary history. Its success spawned a flood of copycats. Game fantasy had been popular before, but this one exploded the trend.
Back in the rental bookstore era, it held the top spot for ages. No Korean game fantasy outsold it. Well, not in terms of sales volume, anyway—literary merit was another story. Experts called it peak entertainment fiction, but not high art.
Still, its influence on genre novels was undeniable. Even I got into the genre thanks to Sunlight Painter. Anyone my age would get it—I loved it. An object of envy, really. It was just that good.
By the time I grew up, game fantasy was nearly extinct. It boomed in the 2000s, but soon became passé.
Instead, its core element—the status window—scattered to other genres. They cherry-picked that gem and ditched the rest.
Status windows were gold for authors and readers alike.
Authors didn't need to painstakingly describe the protagonist's growth.
Just show the stats going up, done.
For readers, growth was clear, numerical, and tangible, making status windows indispensable.
Anyway, game fantasy was hot right now, so that's what I'd write. Release them a bit ahead of the timeline, and I'd be golden. Felt like I was pioneering trends as a novelist.
I hammered it out on the monitor. Passersby glanced over, sure. Who wouldn't stare at a first-grader ignoring games to write a novel?
And a girl, no less.
Girls rarely came to PC bangs. I was the only one here.
I finished the chapter successfully and uploaded it to the site. Now, just wait for publishers to bite. My age was a minor snag, but no big deal—Mom and Dad could be my legal guardians.
I left the PC bang and headed home. Past rundown roads, to a place with crumbling houses. Rent here was dirt cheap, a few bucks a month. Unthinkable in the 2000s. But that's where we lived.
"Mom, I'm home~"
No one inside when I opened the door.
Right, she said she was starting work today.
With me in elementary school now, she figured I could stay home alone. Normally risky. Kids needed supervision until third or fourth grade, especially first-graders. But I was so mature, she must've been fooled into thinking it was fine.
She wasn't wrong. Considering my real age, I was older than my parents. No accidents on my watch.
Whiiiiiir—!
Cold winter wind whistled through cracks in the walls.
"Ugh, freezing..."
I changed into pajamas and layered up. Never imagined wearing coats indoors, but boiler costs were too steep. I burrowed under a thick blanket and flipped on the TV. Same size as the PC bang monitors.
Big TVs were luxuries. This one was scavenged from a junk shop. Without it, we'd just stare at walls. Phones or computers? Total extravagances. A single PC cost over a million won—enough for our family's yearly living expenses, no exaggeration. I hoped the novels blew up soon so we could move.
Time passed watching TV until evening fell. Outside was pitch black.
Ding-dong~
I got up and opened the door. Mom stood there, face flushed from the cold.
"Soraya~! Were you good?"
She rushed in, peppering me with kisses. I grabbed her head to escape, but no dice. Her face was ice-cold. How hard she'd worked... Still in her twenties, it was heartbreaking. I let her rub her cheek against mine.
"How was work, Mom?"
"First day at the mart was tough! But I powered through thinking of Sora!"
"Yeah..."
Dad arrived soon after. He brought cheap snacks—100 or 200 won junk food. Fancy stuff was beyond our means.
"Sora~"
"Dad~"
He'd been a hotshot game developer once, but now he quit and did day labor. My junior, in a way.
His face was as cold as Mom's had been. Our family was together again.
I rubbed my growling stomach, smacking my lips. Time to eat now that we were all here.
But something I hadn't expected happened.
"Oh dear... honey, looks like we need to hit the soup kitchen tonight...?"
"Huh? Rice already gone?"
"Yeah..."
We were out of rice. That meant heading to the free soup kitchen for meals.