Surviving as a Plagiarist in Another World

The Transcendence Library.

This is the archive where every piece of text I’ve ever read is stored in the form of books. Naturally, I spent my time here re-reading the books I had read before. After all, no matter how many years I spent here, time in the real world wouldn’t pass.

The way I come here is by dreaming, or more precisely, it would be accurate to say that only the time I’ve slept passes when I visit.

In any case, it was a great place to spend time leisurely.

“Haha! Long time no see! Author!”

“Ah, yes.”

Except for the occasional visits from the alchemist who drops by for some casual chat.

Luckily, the alchemist and I were quite in sync when it came to conversation.

The topics of our discussions usually revolved around the works I had plagiarized or the subject of ‘Transcendence.’ Especially with the alchemist, who never questioned the vocabulary related to my ‘previous life,’ I was able to converse more comfortably.

“Among the works I released this time, the one that caught the most attention was ‘Metamorphosis,’ but personally, I like ‘Lawsuit,’ which was also included. ‘The Burrow’ is too allegorical, and ‘Metamorphosis’ feels too personal. The distance of ‘Lawsuit’ from society… it felt like the perfect literary gap for me.”

“Oh! The essay ‘Before the Law’ was impressive.”

We would sometimes have a brief literary discussion about the books I had published.

And then, we would chat about Transcendence.

“When I transcended, a teleportation gate appeared at my house, and because of that, wizards have been coming around lately, saying they want to build a magic tower where my mansion used to be.”

“Is that so? Well, something similar happened when I transcended through alchemy.”

“What did you do in that situation, Gallen?”

“I just let them have it! The place I transcended was just a worthless workshop I used for backup, and it wasn’t a place I was particularly attached to.”

“Ah, so now there’s a magic tower there? Maybe I’ve been to that place.”

“It’s called the Black Magic Tower… Have you been there?”

“Sadly, no, I haven’t been there personally. I’ve only heard the name.”

And then.

“If you ever go to the Black Magic Tower, I can give you the token I received when I handed over the workshop!”

“A token?”

“They told me to bring it if they ever needed help, but since I’m not really interested in anything besides alchemy, I never had a use for it! Still, since you, Homeros, are using your worldly identity, it might help. Haha!”

“…Isn’t that an item from hundreds of years ago?”

“Actually, it’s just under a thousand years old.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

Another odd item was added to my collection.

I might have to set up something like a museum later.

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The ‘Teleportation Gate’ that exists in every magic tower on the continent is a trace of Transcendence.

Because of that, after I transcended at the Friden mansion, there were sometimes wizards who crossed over into my room through the ‘Teleportation Gate.’ However, it wasn’t something anyone could do. Apparently, only someone with the talent of a chief mage can cross a gate without specific coordinates.

Anyway, because of this, I was wondering if I should change rooms. It’s not that there weren’t any available rooms in the Friden mansion.

“Ugh, can’t I just seal this hole with something like concrete?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If someone gets stuck in the wall while crossing, it could be quite a troublesome situation, don’t you think?”

“That’s true… Hmm?”

A model of the universe. The traces of Transcendence, shimmering with deep darkness and brilliant light.

The existence of the teleportation gate, which was right next to the window, was a bit troublesome in terms of privacy.

For example.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, you recognized me?”

This was the moment when an intruder, as if speaking naturally, responded like some strange creature right beside me.

An uninvited guest, barging into someone else’s room and attempting to strike up a friendly conversation. It was such a sudden and ridiculous situation that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

The most absurd thing was the fact that I didn’t feel ‘uncomfortable’ around this person.

Normally, if someone enters a private space, even if you know them, you’d feel at least a little uncomfortable, but I felt none of that. It didn’t even feel like there was someone else in the room.

“This is interesting. Is this some kind of mental magic from the Purple Magic Tower?”

“It’s a little different. It’s more akin to the resonance communication from the Blue Magic Tower. While I’m talking to you here, in reality, I’m not present in this space.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nice to meet you. I am the Transcendent of Literature. I’m Quinty Fasparian, the Tower Master of the Black Magic Tower.”

Black Magic Tower?

“Oh, yes.”

“By the way, you don’t have to worry about privacy issues. I can neither hear nor see anything, nor can I say anything.”

“Aren’t you talking to me right now?”

“If perfect silence were truly achieved, wouldn’t it instead feel deafening? Think of me as such an existence.”

When I furrowed my brow, unable to comprehend, the person claiming to be the Master of the Black Magic Tower spoke in a gentler tone.

“Language is merely a medium of interaction. Sounds fade quickly, but the content within them alters the brain and engraves itself upon a person’s soul. Thus, language exists independently of ‘sound.’”

“And so?”

“Given that, how can we ever be sure that the ‘language’ I hear is the same as the ‘language’ you hear? Just as the wind brushing against reeds can sound like a ghostly wail to some, even chaotic noise may contain sentences or names that others clearly discern. Whether or not those meanings were truly there….”

“Well, that’s true.”

“Then, if we were to mix endless noise with eternal silence, the other party would undoubtedly find some kind of meaningful ‘sentence’ within it. The language I use is such noise. I don’t know what I’m saying, and I can’t speak in a language unknown to you, Transcendent One. In essence, you are merely talking to yourself! So, truly, privacy isn’t an issue.”

“…I understand that you’re something akin to a ghost.”

“Haha! You may interpret it that way if you wish.”

The Black Magic Tower Master chuckled, then adjusted his demeanor as he continued speaking.

His overly formal tone paradoxically made his words sound playful.

“I assume the Transcendent of Literature has heard stories about the Black Magic Tower. Tales of beings who plunge the world into chaos, believing the absurd truth that ‘if nothing is predictable, nothing is strange.’”

“I’ve heard something similar.”

“That’s a baseless misunderstanding. We merely seek truth by separating ‘ignorance’ from ‘misunderstanding.’”

“Ignorance and misunderstanding?”

“For example, ‘misunderstanding’ doesn’t stem from ‘ignorance’ but from ‘knowledge.’ Preconceived notions born from experience and learning—that is what creates ‘misunderstanding.’ Someone who knows nothing misunderstands nothing. A child who hasn’t read The Little Prince wouldn’t mistake a hat for ‘a boa constrictor swallowing an elephant.’ Misunderstanding is not synonymous with incomprehension.”

“…….”

“And as mages who pursue truth, we’ve arrived at one conclusion through our quest for understanding.”

“And that conclusion is?”

“Truth is like a balance scale with two arms; the heavier one side becomes, the lighter the other grows. The more deeply you understand one aspect, the more impossible it becomes to grasp the information that lies on the other side.”

“Hmm.”

“That is why we are ‘black mages’—those who abandon one piece of wisdom to gain another.”

The long-winded lecture from this so-called Master of the Black Magic Tower seemed worth listening to, but… I wasn’t particularly interested in the topic.

After all, I wasn’t a mage.

So I nodded nonchalantly and countered.

“And what’s the point of all this?”

“Oh dear, I’ve made the preamble too long. It’s to make a request.”

And then.

Despite all the verbose explanations.

The suggestion from the Black Magic Tower Master turned out to be rather businesslike.

“I wish to borrow the history of the Transcendent and store the Black Magic Tower’s ‘records’ in your library.”

“Excuse me?”

“Knowledge, after all, is destined to be forgotten. This is especially true for the records of the ‘Black Magic Tower.’ However, it would be different if they were stored in the ‘Library’ you’ve completed under your own name, Transcendent of Literature. As long as you live, the library too shall remain immortal. The ‘potential’ of literature revolves around you, after all.”

“So, you’re saying you want to enter into a library usage contract?”

“To put it simply, yes.”

“…Oh, okay.”

The Black Magic Tower Master, who appeared like a ghost.

Turned out to be a salesman trying to secure a contract!

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.

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“This is a token that allows you to borrow the power of the Black Magic Tower at any time. Should you wish to abandon one thing to gain another, please visit us whenever you like.”

“Oh, I already have one of those.”

“Excuse me?”

“You haven’t changed the design in a thousand years….”

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