I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

The origin of cosplay dates back to around the 1930s.

In 1939, at the Worldcon held in New York, SF writer Forrest J. Ackerman attended wearing a costume made by his lover and colleague Myrtle R. Douglas, which some believe marked the starting point of the concept of cosplay.

However, if we dig a bit deeper for a more specific origin, it certainly traces back to the 18th Worldcon held in Pennsylvania in the 1960s.

From that time, the trend of copying and wearing costumes of beloved characters from novels spread, and it eventually moved to Japan, where cosplay culture as we know it today developed.

And it seems like I, Phantom, was the one who truly opened the floodgates of cosplay culture in this other world.

“There really is no other place like the haven of otakus.”

From the protagonist and main characters to even the supporting and extra-level roles, people were gathered together, completely devoted to the costumes and makeup they created.

Even if the world and era change, otakus will always be otakus.

Nothing can stop their passionate immersion.

“…But the victory is mine, poor fans.”

My costume as Brutus was perfectly crafted to the point of pride.

I surveyed it slowly, sporting a faint victorious smile.

“No matter how much you struggle, you otherworlders!”

On the flip side, I come from a world where all the characters are real people.

There’s no way a mere otherworlder could outdo my know-how.

I simply threw out the bait!

And you all bit right into it!

“Next contestant is Balthazar Arture! Please come up to the stage!”

“Yes, I’m coming now.”

I quietly chuckled, recalling the famous line from the movie “The Wailing.”

Poor souls tricked by the fictional character of Phantom to come this far.

Now, it’s time for the author himself to seize the victory prize with his divine performance.

—

…I lost.

And I lost overwhelmingly.

Whether it was 3rd or 20th, at least Charlie Chaplin has been heard in the ranks.

I ranked dead last.

That means not a single fan voted for the playwright himself.

I felt so embarrassed I thought I might collapse.

Dead last! Not 1st, not 10th, not even 100th, but dead last!

“But I’m the writer! I may have concealed my status, but I’m still a writer!”

Sure, I might lack talent in acting, but is this even reasonable?!

The final results of the competition were that the princess came in 1st, and senior Rosalyn came in 2nd.

An odd result emerged where women triumphed while the stage was flooded with male characters’ cosplay.

…Damn. Isn’t this cheating?

I’m certain that many votes went to the princess due to her status.

Who in the right mind would want to embarrass the next heir to the throne?

“But looking at the quality, I can’t deny it.”

Senior Rosalyn was cosplaying Julia Caesaris, the only daughter of Caesar.

She married the great Pompey in a political marriage but tragically passed young due to childbirth complications.

To enhance the tragic nature of Caesar’s story, she is depicted as a virtuous and kind character, perfectly aligned with senior Rosalyn, who could be seen as the leading lady of a fairy tale.

Every detail from her costume, makeup, to subtle expressions and movements were meticulously crafted.

It was such a method cosplay that one could believe she was the historical Julia rather than Rosalyn Wenford.

Yet, in front of the winner Diana, all of that lost its color.

“Are you the infamous Phantom?”

Diana von Clausewitz, sitting leisurely on the reception room sofa dressed as the Egyptian queen, exuded beauty, allure, and an almost impossible-to-look-away sensuality as she raised the corners of her lips.

“I’m glad to finally meet you. I am Diana, princess of the Holy Empire.”

“I know your title, Your Highness. How could I not recognize your esteemed self?”

Attempting to appear composed, I offered a polite exchange.

My gaze was continuously being drawn away due to her sensuous yet refined beauty.

“An artist in a mask and dark cloak. Quite an aesthetic taste, I see.”

Diana observed me with a glimmer in her eyes.

“While the cloak is acceptable, why the mask? Just to hide your identity?”

“I suffered a serious burn in an accident before. If I were to remove this mask, it could deeply distress you, Your Highness.”

Reciting the backstory I had prepared, I unconsciously swallowed hard.

As renowned Cleopatra was hailed as the most beautiful woman in Egypt, this reputation was fully reflected when designing the costume for her actress.

While retaining the essence of Egypt, I made considerable effort to blend in elements of male fantasy and Orientalism without it coming off as overly obscene, showcasing Cleopatra’s charm prominently.

But here I was, face to face with the only princess of the Empire flawlessly recreating that costume.

“Not even the actresses of Killgrewber managed to pull off such a feat.”

Surely, the completion of fashion relies on face and physique?

With thighs voluptuously curved and breasts prominently featured.

A slim and firm waist alongside slender calves like a deer.

And fragile ankles that seemed like they’d snap if you merely tapped them.

At this point, one could easily conclude that this woman might just be Cleopatra herself in this other world.

Her golden hair glimmering and lime-colored eyes were mere trivialities related to her resemblance to the late Empress.

“…Well. Cleopatra was from the Ptolemaic dynasty, descended from Greek lineage.”

Honestly, who’s to know?

She might not have been the black-haired black-eyed woman we think. Maybe she had golden hair and green eyes like Diana.

In a world that even claims a perfectly fine Egyptian queen was a black woman with an afro hairstyle, why would anything seem impossible?

“It’s quite quiet here. Isn’t this fan meeting a bit lacking in energy?”

At that moment, Diana let out a delicate huff, scolding me.

“Could it be you have no interest in me? I’ve actually been quite curious about you.”

“I apologize. Being a humble playwright, I seem to be a bit tense in front of royalty.”

“Oh, you needn’t be tense. This is, after all, an occasion where we meet as mere fan and favorite. I am just a woman, not a princess. A writer shouldn’t look down on their supporters.”

“That’s excellent advice. I shall remember it well, Your Highness.”

Hahaha. I responded with a laugh that didn’t hold much sincerity as I reached for the table.

With a pop! I uncorked the champagne prepared for the fan meeting and filled her glass.

It was sparkling wine I had set aside just for me. What a waste.

“How about you, Your Highness? Do you have any questions or anything you’d like to ask about me or my future activities? Please, feel free to ask anything.”

“Hmm, feel free to ask?”

With an elegant motion, Diana narrowed her eyes as she sipped the champagne I poured her.

And in the next moment…

“Is your academy life going well, Phantom?”

A bomb I never expected exploded right in front of me.

—

“Academy? What do you mean by that…”

“There’s no need for pretense. We’ve already verified that you are indeed an academy student.”

It was a boast based on no evidence at all. It was nothing less than bluffing.

Diana couldn’t fact-check whether Phantom truly was an academy student or not.

Right now, she was relying solely on intuition, without using any authority to pinpoint my identity.

However, the reason she was bluffing was simple.

“Of course. You must be an academy student.”

Her aim was to test Phantom’s true intentions.

If I truly were not an academy student, I wouldn’t respond to her question.

Yet, the expression hidden behind Phantom’s mask had undoubtedly wavered for a moment.

Diana, with her keen observation skills, didn’t miss that slight crack.

“You’re probably between 1st and 2nd year, huh? You keep using words that characterize blonde students out of habit, yet your vocabulary isn’t as rich as the upperclassmen.”

And now that it was confirmed I was a student,

“The sturdy build that can’t be concealed by a cloak is certainly from your family lineage. Plus, seeing the calluses on your palm, you must definitely be from a martial family. Only hands that wield swords or spears look so rough.”

There was no sense in hesitating.

“But as far as I can remember, there wasn’t a male blonde student with serious burns on his face. Therefore, if you claim you’ve been injured, it must be a lie. Furthermore, your bright brown hair must have been dyed using magical hair dye. Magic products tend to leave traces after use.”

“…”

“But common products only adjust the shades and do not change the natural color itself. With that in mind, the possibilities for your natural hair color become even narrower.”

“…”

…Calm, aren’t we?

As if she hadn’t heard a word.

Diana von Clausewitz maintained her grip on the situation.

Yet internally, she was quite surprised by Phantom’s stance.

‘How could he remain so composed even when cornered?’

Even while being personally pressured by the Empire’s princess?
This was definitely the nature of someone who disregarded fan letters from the upper class.

Diana was momentarily speechless at the unexpected bravery displayed by Phantom.

With Phantom facing her with such confidence, any resentment she might have held began to fade away.

What arose next was a deeper curiosity toward the man called Phantom.

And perhaps a slight, hard-to-define fondness.

—

“So then, who could be hiding beneath this mask?”

Leaning slightly forward, Diana smiled enticingly.

Her finger, resembling a playful cat or a haughty fox, gently caressed Phantom’s chin.

“Should I reveal it myself, or would it be better for you to come clean about your identity now?”

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