I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

Chapter 14

The origins of cosplay could be traced back to the 1930s.

In 1939, Forrest J. Ackerman, a science fiction writer, attended Worldcon in New York wearing a futuristic costume made by his partner and fellow writer, Myrtle R. Douglas. Some consider this to be the starting point of the concept of cosplay.

However, if we look for a more specific origin, it would certainly be the 18th Worldcon held in Pennsylvania, USA, in the 1960s.

It was around this time that the trend of wearing costumes that replicated characters from beloved novels began to spread; this trend then made its way to Japan, where it evolved into the cosplay culture we know today.

And in this other world, it seems that I, Phantom, am the one who has officially opened the floodgates for cosplay culture.

‘This place is a nerd’s paradise.’

From the protagonists and main characters to the supporting roles and extras that even I, the writer, could barely remember, people were gathered in droves, dressed in meticulously crafted costumes and makeup.

As expected, otakus will be otakus, no matter the world or the era.

Nothing could stop their passionate dedication.

‘...But victory is mine, you poor souls.’

I surveyed my impeccable Brutus costume with pride, a smug smile playing on my lips.

‘You may be skilled, but you’re just people of this world!’

I, on the other hand, came from a world where all these play characters were real historical figures.

How could these ordinary people possibly surpass my expertise?

I’ve set the bait!

And you all took it hook, line, and sinker!

“Our next contestant is Balthazar Arture! Please take the stage!”

“Coming right up.”

I chuckled softly, recalling a line from the movie, .

These poor souls, duped by the fictional Phantom, had come all this way.

Now it was time for the author himself to steal the victory with a mesmerizing performance.

✧❅✦❅✧

...I lost.

And I lost overwhelmingly.

Whether it was third place or twentieth place, Charlie Chaplin at least managed to secure a decent ranking.

I, on the other hand, came in dead last.

Not a single fan had voted for me, the actual playwright.

I felt so utterly humiliated that my knees almost buckled.

Last place! Not first, not tenth, not even one hundredth, but dead last!

‘I’m the writer! Even if I am hiding my identity, I’m still the writer!’

How could this happen, no matter how lacking I might be in acting skills?

For the record, the Crown Princess won first place, and Senior Rosalyn took second.

A bizarre outcome — despite the plays being populated mostly by male characters, it was the women who claimed victory.

...Damn it. Was this rigged?

Honestly, it seemed like the princess got plenty of votes due to her status.

Who in their right mind would dare to embarrass the future heir to the throne?

‘But I can’t deny their performances were impressive.’

Senior Rosalyn had cosplayed as Julia Caesaris, Caesar’s only daughter.

A tragic figure who, despite marrying the renowned general Pompey for political reasons, met an untimely end in childbirth at a young age.

To enhance the tragedy of Caesar’s story, I had portrayed her as a virtuous and kind character, giving her a significant role. Her image perfectly matched Senior Rosalyn, like a sorrowful heroine from a fairytale.

The costume, makeup, expressions, and gestures were all flawlessly executed, capturing every detail from the play.

And the next moment...

“How’s academy life treating you, Phantom?”

A completely unexpected bomb detonated right before my eyes.

✧❅✦❅✧

“The... academy, you say? What do you mean by that...?”

“There’s no need to feign ignorance. I’ve already confirmed that you’re an academy student.”

An empty boast, a bluff.

Diana couldn’t truly confirm if Phantom was an academy student.

She was currently relying solely on her deductive reasoning, without any official authority to investigate.

And yet, she bluffed for a simple reason—

‘As expected. He is an academy student.’

Her intention was to gauge Phantom’s reaction.

If he wasn’t actually a student, there was no need for him to react to her statement.

However, Phantom’s expression, hidden beneath the mask, clearly flickered with unease for a moment.

Diana, with her sharp eyes, didn’t miss that subtle tell.

“You must be a first- or second-year student, I presume? You habitually use words characteristic of Bronde students, but your vocabulary isn’t as rich as that of the upperclassmen.”

And now that his status as an academy student was confirmed,

“That sturdy build, not even concealed by your cloak, is clearly inherited. Furthermore, judging by the calluses on your palms, you’re undeniably from a noble family with a martial tradition. Only hands that wield swords or spears develop such rough skin.”

There was no reason for her to hesitate further.

“But as far as I recall, there’s no male Bronde student who has suffered severe facial burns. So your claim about a facial injury is obviously a lie. And your light brown hair? It’s a temporary dye, a magical one. Such products always leave traces.”

“............”

“However, commonly available products can only adjust the shade, not completely alter the original color. Considering this, your natural hair color must be brown, narrowing down the possibilities even further.”

“............”

...Composed.

As if he hadn’t heard a thing.

Diana von Clausewitz didn’t lose control of the situation.

But inwardly, she was quite impressed by Phantom’s demeanor.

‘He’s backed into a corner, and yet he shows no further signs of agitation?’

Especially considering that the Crown Princess herself was pressuring him?

Perhaps this was the maverick nature that allowed him to ignore fan letters even from high-ranking nobles.

Diana was momentarily at a loss for words, taken aback by Phantom’s unexpected bravery.

Any lingering resentment she held towards him evaporated in the face of his calm defiance.

What arose instead was a deeper curiosity about the man behind the mask — Phantom.

And a hint of... something else. A certain attraction she couldn’t quite define.

“Now then, who could be hiding behind this mask?”

Diana leaned closer, a mischievous smile curving her lips.

Her posture resembled that of a haughty feline or a proud vixen as her finger gently traced Phantom’s chin.

“Should I reveal your identity for you, or would you prefer to confess honestly?”

— End of Chapter —

A Word from the Author :-

Thank You to the Martyrs of the Korean War

Happy Liberation Day, everyone!