One-Click AI Plagiarist? You're Out.

"Never even made it into Doona's room."

I fell asleep in the middle of the novel at the center of the plagiarism mess. It had been a long time since I'd read anything that wasn't a heroine story, and the change put me straight to sleep.

Before I got to work, I paced outside Doona's door. People say that when someone dies, you're supposed to sort through what they left behind. I didn't want to. Pack it all away, and it feels like it's really over.

"Haa..."

I dumped the cigarettes heaped in the ashtray into the trash and went ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into my room. Flat on the bed, I stared at my phone.

"Ghost Story Poker God is the original. Ghost Story Gambling Operator is the one under suspicion."

The gallery was still on fire.

Gallery opinion, as ever, refused to sit still. Only yesterday they'd been out for the plagiarist's blood. Today they were more or less raising the suspected author's hand. Watching even the fixed-nick crowd carry on like that, the odds of this ending in a WWE match looked excellent. A third camp had shown up, too.

Part of the crowd had found a sandbag that was easy to hit, and they were turning their arrows on the platforms.

I used to handle sites at a company, I'll have you know.

With the scandal this loud, both platforms had to know there was a problem. Getting out ahead of it was another matter. The two works lived on different platforms, and each platform had to hold the middle ground with its users. Trust and fairness sit on the same line. Flash your position carelessly, and you draw one more red strike under the controversy entry on Tree Wiki.

So what a platform wants most is someone it can shift a share of the blame onto. What do I mean by that?

Platforms don't pass judgment. That's how it works.

The cleanest path is the original author filing the report. The trouble is, that makes life annoying for the original author. Next best, then: a reader report. And they'd want one with grounds and materials that actually hold.

"But I don't want to be the one who files it."

The platform would keep my information. I had no interest in reporting it myself and kicking up noise. Upload the materials, and then—

"If I build the opinion through the gallery?"

Someone else would file it for me.

One phone was a miserable way to organize anything. I booted the junk computer in my room and roughly sorted both novels into a notepad.

Laid out in fragments, the link between the two works looked thin. The most you could hang on them was similar material, and that wasn't enough. It could be filed under cliché instead of plagiarism. I needed proof they couldn't slip.

"Yesterday's best post said they copied it sentence by sentence, didn't it?"

I needed evidence they'd lifted someone else's work in broad daylight.

"I really am only screenshotting this for the public good...?"

Both platforms had in-app capture switched off. An outside program punches straight through that. Following yesterday's best post, I lifted the sentences one by one with an external capture board.

"Good. They didn't edit anything."

Whether the suspected plagiarist was shameless or simply didn't care about the comments, every sentence was still exactly as it had been. I scanned the screenshots and copied the lines into the notepad. Next step.

"The proud Republic of Korea has a document-similarity check, you know."

The same literature-similarity tool people use to catch plagiarized theses. I ran the web novels through it. The result came back at once.

"Oh."

I couldn't say whether that was airtight, but someone had been very inspired. That was the feeling.

"Just how similar are we talking."

Set side by side, the problem started to show. First, a passage from Ghost Story Poker God.

Plain sentences. Only what they needed. So what had Ghost Story Gambling Operator written?

Something was off. The two passages shared a structure. Some woman stares at me. Whether she spits the poker cards or swallows them, the scene is the same kind of scene. Then a line about her having introduced herself. Then the moment she asks if he can see her. A and A-minus sentences like these turned up past counting.

Sorting all of them, one thing felt wrong.

"Fishy... I've seen that word a lot somewhere."

Hard to call that something people actually say, isn't it? What even is a fishy smile? Did she take a bite of mackerel?

"Hm. Anyway..."

I lined up every similar sentence, edited them, and turned the lot into a single image file. Just in case, I checked the sentences that weren't similar, too.

And then—

"Would you look at this bastard."

Only then did it click.

"Worried simple would look suspicious, so you swapped it for ordinary? Pfft."

I knew exactly what I'd been reading.

"Everyone! This is not the time to be fighting about plagiarism!"

I was the locust on the platform. I had found a Ssalsungi!

At first I thought it was only a plagiarized novel. Dig in, and there was a worse problem.

Back when I worked at a major company, I left the meeting minutes to an AI. The thing did the job better than I did. Then one bored day, I told it to turn the minutes into a short story.

"And the sentences that came out were exactly like those."

Overblown lines. Modifiers that glittered for no reason. Maybe the architecture was English-based and that's why it came out that way. Maybe they were phrases Korea used to love. I don't know, and I don't care. What mattered was the high chance this lunatic was a Ssalsungi.

Still, you can't convict someone of AI on sentences alone. I wrote lines like that now and then myself.

"AIs are bad at long-term memory, right?"

Even I, who mix up names all the time, remember my own. So if the protagonist's name in Ghost Story Gambling Operator ever flipped—

"Should've paid for the expensive one."

Would Ssalsungi who won't even invest bother to proofread a novel? Would they spring for a pricey AI while they were at it? The result was exactly what I'd expected.

In episode 1 of Ghost Story Gambling Operator, the protagonist is Lee Myeongcheol. He holds together until about episode 15.

If it happened once, fine. I'd allow it. But what if the mistake kept going, chapter after chapter?

"Pfft. Have a nice trip."

Goodbye, you bastard. If you're mad, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠put on a mushroom cap and turn on a clarification stream.

What's wrong with an AI novel? Sonpia and Piapia both state in their terms that they allow only purely original work. If you want to write AI novels, go to an AI platform. Nothing wrong with that over there.

"Then we do this by the book, don't we?"

I bundled the rest of the materials in and put everything I'd organized into a post.

Here was the problem. I don't use a fixed nick.

Why?

Because I don't want to become a likable fixed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nick.

At heart, I'm a floater. But the novel gallery has one rule.

"Damn it."

Nothing for it. A nickname takes three minutes, doesn't it?

"I'll just go with HanaNyanNyan."

I'm good at cat noises. Good enough that Doona certified me. I registered the fixed nick without a second thought and finished verification.

Shall we post? For the record, this is how you bait a title.

Light a fire, and the wood catches fast. Recs climbed, and the guardian corps handing out downs ate curses for it.

"Ehehe. This is the stuff!"

I laughed from my corner of the room and watched the gallery burn. I felt like the king of kindling.

"Doona, unnie's doing all right, isn't she? I'm delivering justice in my own way!"

"..."

"Don't just smile. Say something. I actually did well this time."

First fixed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nick. First post. It hit best post today. Somehow, it felt like my life had fallen apart even harder.

"Guess I should at least take a short walk tomorrow."

"Um... you're Doona's unnie, right?"

"This is trespassing..."

The reunion with Baek Seoyeon was the worst.

"And what's with that kitchen knife?"

"Home-defense weapon..."

"?"

The next day, steeped in cigarettes and gallery-scrolling, Baek Seoyeon of Lonabel came to the house.

"Assistant Manager Kim? Reports on Ghost Story Gambling Operator are pouring in right now...? They even attached the materials."

"Perfect. I was gunning for this anyway."

"This looks like overtime?"

"Yeah, and we're fucked."

The Piapia office. Assistant Manager Kim and his junior were talking quietly. Their own Ghost Story Poker God was in a busy stretch, preparing a webtoon launch, and a plagiarism incident had blown up in the middle of it. A project that needed to stay quiet was bound to pick up noise. An awkward time—and then emails packed with evidence poured in like bombs.

"Anything go up on the novel gallery?"

"It's on the best posts. That one... the platform-statement post."

"A statement? They know how to hit best post."

Assistant Manager Kim snorted, then checked the contents. Most of what was posted matched the emails. It also held far more than what they'd been investigating themselves.

"I'm telling you, reader opinion is unbeatable."

"Watch your mouth. We eat thanks to our readers and authors, who are higher than the sky."

"Sorry. I'll forget everything you said at the drinking table, Assistant Manager."

"...?"

The meeting ended that same day. The conclusion was to send Sonpia a cooperation email asking them to take Ghost Story Gambling Operator down.

"What if they cover for it and say it isn't plagiarism?"

"They'd have to. They have a duty to protect users. Then we use Plan B."

A novel that interferes with platform operations can have its paid contract withdrawn. Every platform puts that clause in. It isn't a common case, but Ghost Story Gambling Operator was the exception. Public opinion had already formed in force, so taking it down wouldn't carry much risk.

Assistant Manager Kim drafted the email, slipping in a soulless cushion—We thank your company for its hard work...

"The one who hit best post was HariNyanNyan, right?"

"Huh? Uh... I think it's HanaNyanNyan?"

"Think they're industry?"

"Actually, it was me."

"You're dead. Anyway, keep an eye on it just in case."

"I'm getting paid extra for off-duty work, right?"

That day, a large lump remained on the junior's forehead.