In the lazy afternoon sunlight, the Academy cafe, Blanc les Joies, basked in serenity. And sitting with graceful dignity at the best seat, where one could enjoy the gentle breeze and the finest view, was a woman.

 

Her hair gleamed golden, as radiant as the blazing sun.

 

Her sharp, yet beautifully shaped, light lime-colored eyes.

 

Her perfectly proportioned body was further accentuated by the well-fitted uniform.

 

She was Diana von Clausewitz, the Crown Princess, bearing a striking resemblance to the late Empress.

 

In front of her, a lady was giving a polite greeting with a respectful posture.

 

“Your Highness, the Princess. I hope you have had a peaceful day.”

 

With a deep bow, holding her skirt, Rosalyn Wenford, the red-haired Duke’s daughter, smiled kindly.

 

“I am immensely honored by being summoned like this, Your Highness. I hope I am not disturbing your peaceful tea time…”

 

“Spare me the pleasantries.”

 

Diana chuckled, her signature haughty smile gracing her lips.

 

“Just be yourself. We don’t need to worry about my father anymore, do we?”

 

“Hehe.”

 

Rosalyn lifted her head with a shy laugh at the princess’s words.

 

Taking a seat opposite Diana, she said,

 

“I missed you, Diana.”

 

The Duchess of Wenford addressed the Crown Princess with casual familiarity, a privilege only granted by years of childhood friendship.

 

Diana’s brow furrowed slightly. She spoke in a low voice, tinged with concern.

 

“…It must have been tough. While I was away from the academy.”

 

“No, it was manageable. Thank you for worrying about me.”

 

A radiant smile blossomed like a long-lost rose, brightening her friend’s demeanor. Diana let out a relieved sigh, seeing her friend looking much better.

 

Despite their fathers’ bitter relationship, the two had never lost their bond of friendship.

 

They both entered the esteemed Bronde Academy together, the Empire’s most prestigious educational institution.

 

And while they were together, the princess, albeit indirectly, served as a shield for her friend.

 

However, when Diana was forced to interrupt her studies due to unforeseen circumstances, Rosalyn was left alone.

 

Stripped of the protection of the heir to the throne,

 

bearing only the stigma of being the daughter of a knight who had fallen out of the Emperor’s favor.

 

It was fortunate that she had at least been elevated to the rank of Duchess.

 

‘And it was all thanks to that playwright, Phantom?’

 

“Hmm.”

 

“What is it, Diana?”

 

“Just… a rather amusing thought came to mind.”

 

She hadn’t sent the letter as the Crown Princess, so she hadn’t expected to be treated as such.

 

But to be so blatantly ignored? It was rather disheartening.

 

Her adorable younger brother, Wolfgang von Clausewitz, had recommended the play so highly.

 

She had heard stories of Rosalyn’s family being saved from ruin thanks to the play <Admiral Lee>.

 

So she, along with her family, had watched <Julius Caesar> and was instantly captivated by Phantom’s work, becoming a devoted fan. But all she received in return was utter disregard and indifference?

 

‘How bold of them.’

 

As Diana was lost in thought,

 

Rosalyn, as if reading her mind, rested her chin on her hands and started talking about Phantom.

 

“Oh, by the way, Diana. Have you seen Phantom’s new work? Julius Caesar, the one that premiered recently.”

 

“Of course I have. The entire imperial family went to see it.”

 

“That’s right. Hehe.”

 

Rosalyn smiled dreamily and gazed out the cafe window.

 

“I know that person must be just like you and me, but I can’t fathom how that person manages to write such masterpieces. Admiral Lee, Julius Caesar… it’s as if they were crafted not by a human hand, but by the gods of art and inspiration themselves.”

 

“…….”

 

“You felt it too, didn’t you, Diana? The intensity, the dynamism of their writing. The depth of their insights into the human psyche. The perfectly woven plot and the beautiful emotions infused deeply in every word. Phantom must surely be someone bestowed by the gods.”

 

Rosalyn poured out her admiration for Phantom without a hint of embarrassment, as if her eloquent praise was simply natural. Perhaps, being in the company of her closest friend, she felt more comfortable expressing her admiration openly.

 

Diana couldn’t help but smile subtly, watching her friend regain her zest for life.

 

She had gleaned a top-secret piece of information while watching <Julius Caesar> recently.

 

She was curious about how Rosalyn would react if she shared this.

 

“You know, Rosalyn?”

 

Stirring her tea with a small spoon, Diana said, her voice tinged with curiosity, “Phantom might actually be a student here at the academy?”

 

✧❅✦❅✧

 

“So, when is it coming out? When is Phantom’s new play coming out?”

 

“Ughhh, I can’t live without Phantom’s new work! I’ll wither away and die if a new play doesn’t come out soon!”

 

“Phantom’s new play is coming out tomorrow! Because every 24 hours, I’m going to bash my head in so hard that I forget about it!”

 

…Crazy bastards.

 

Witnessing these desperate pleas day after day, I couldn’t help but feel a genuine sense of terror.

 

Was this what they called bright-eyed fanatics?

 

That was the perfect way to describe the students’ reaction to <Julius Caesar>.

 

They had turned into veritable ‘next-play parrots’, mindlessly repeating ‘When’s the next play coming out?’ and wandering around campus like zombies.

 

‘I expected it to be influential, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.’

 

It seemed like it would be best to just get the next play written.

 

Who knew what sort of zombie apocalypse these academy fanatics might unleash if I kept delaying. 

 

With that in mind, I returned to my dorm, only to be met with…

 

“So, when’s the next play coming out?”

 

“You crazy bastard!”

 

My roommate, with the same bright-eyed madness in his eyes, was hounding me for the next play.

 

“Do you think I’m some kind of playwriting machine? Be patient!”

 

“It’s all your fault, you bastard! Are you even my friend? You’ve turned me into someone who can’t live without Phantom’s plays!”

 

Maurice grabbed me by the collar playfully, his eyes wide.

 

He shook me back and forth, feigning outrage.

 

“Give me back my eyes! I want my eyes back, the ones that haven’t seen <Admiral Lee> and <Julius Caesar>! Either that, or give me a new play, so I can quench this burning thirst!”

 

…This guy was seriously insane.

 

The students pretending to be zombies were just putting on an act.

 

True madness was embodied by this guy, Maurice, heir to the House of Lavalle.

 

To think he’d act like this, even knowing that his best friend was Phantom.

 

Shouldn’t he be teasing me, saying my plays are too cheesy? I couldn’t fathom becoming a diehard fan of my childhood friend’s work.

 

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m already working on the next play.”

 

I shrugged off his hand and replied curtly.

 

Maurice chuckled and said in a sly tone,

 

“Good, good. The imperial family must be watching closely, you can’t afford to slack off now. Imagine the chaos if the playwright of <Admiral Lee> and <Julius Caesar> suddenly disappeared? The whole empire would be in an uproar.”

 

“There is that, but…”

 

I mumbled, taking out the ring I received as a reward from my pocket.

 

Initially, the imperial family offered to grant me a government position.

 

But I flatly refused.

 

‘Do they think they can just kidnap someone and make them work like Hwang Hui?’

 

Overwork and death in the imperial palace was not my idea of a good time. And I definitely wanted to avoid getting entangled in their political games.

 

And this ring was the result of our compromise.

 

It acted as a VIP pass, granting me preferential treatment at any establishment, with all expenses charged to the imperial family — it was essentially a type of credit card. In short, the state would be covering the living expenses of the renowned playwright Phantom from now on.

 

‘I must admit, they are quite generous with material rewards.’

 

I chuckled and said to Maurice,

 

“That doesn’t mean I’m writing just because I feel pressured.”

 

While it’s true that I felt obligated to continue, considering how far I’d come, that wasn’t the whole story.

 

‘I have to admit, I’m starting to enjoy it.’

 

In the beginning, it was just an impulsive decision, and then I felt obligated to deliver on the sponsorship I had received. However, after the success of <Admiral Lee> followed by <Julius Caesar>, my perspective began to shift.

 

The realization that the plays I wrote were bringing genuine joy to the masses.

 

The knowledge that they were having a significant impact on various aspects of society.

 

And the fact that they could bring happiness to those who were struggling, like Senior Rosalyn.

 

These were all novel experiences that I couldn’t have grasped as a mere spectator.

 

‘Well, it’s good to have a backup plan in case my family goes bankrupt or something.’

 

Living a double life as a mysterious playwright didn’t seem so bad.

 

I could enjoy the fame as Phantom and manage the incoming funds as Balthazar.

 

✧❅✦❅✧

 

‘Now, what story should I write this time?’

 

Thirty minutes had passed since I sent Maurice away and settled at my desk, seeking inspiration.

 

I nibbled on a strawberry jam cookie for a sugar rush, deep in contemplation.

 

These were treats specially ordered by Maurice from a high-end bakery, ensuring I could focus solely on my writing.

 

However, even with the sugar intake, my brain wasn’t buzzing with ideas as it used to.

 

‘I’ve written enough serious and grand stories, this time I want to try something lighter and more comedic…’

 

Perhaps it was the aftereffect of writing about Admiral Yi Sun-sin and Caesar back-to-back; this time, genre considerations were at the forefront of my mind, even before thinking about the plot.

 

After all, both <Admiral Lee> and <Julius Caesar>, despite their differences, essentially belonged to the same genre: the heroic epic.

 

Even the most delicious food can get tiresome if eaten every day.

 

After an action movie, you might crave a heartwarming drama. After a horror film, you might want to watch a comedy.

 

In that sense, I felt the need to expand Phantom’s creative boundaries.

 

However, I faced a significant limitation — my source material for writing was “biographies.”

 

‘Where can I find a light and comedic biography?’

 

People were remembered as great figures precisely because they achieved great things, overcoming hardships and adversity. At least, none of the figures I could think of off the top of my head had led a life as amusing as a slapstick comedy.

 

Perhaps if I looked for someone who made similar genre films, but finding someone who actually led such a life would be difficult… Wait a minute.

 

‘Films?’

 

Come to think of it, there were many artists who could be considered great figures.

 

And for artists, their work was an essential part of their lives.

 

Just as ‘Spirited Away’ was synonymous with Hayao Miyazaki, and ‘Jurassic Park’ with Steven Spielberg.

 

Famous directors often wished to be remembered for their filmography, rather than their personal lives.

 

And I knew of a certain film director and actor who was a giant of the comedy genre.

 

A British man, a pioneer of 20th-century culture, hailed as the master of slapstick comedy.

 

“…Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot!”

 

Recalling his famous quote, I diligently sifted through my foggy memories.

 

Back when I was Ha Eun-seong, a film and drama addict, before I was reborn as Balthazar.

 

I tried to recall the flow of silent films, the ones that had me literally laughing myself to tears each time, the ones I had watched over and over again, at least ten times.

 

— End of Chapter —