《The Reincarnated Adventure of Lady Detective》 Ab Ovo This narrative unfolds in ¡®a Different World.¡¯ All characters, events, and places are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Furthermore, as this story navigates themes of crime, conspiracy, and scandal, it is essential to note that our consultant''s tale contains sexual and mature content. So, please be advised to read this story with discretion.
RunniiRunny¡¯s The Reincarnated Adventure of Lady Detective
¡®Death¡¯ is the final moment for every living creature. It¡¯s the one undeniable truth we all share and can¡¯t escape from. Of course, for all those reborn with reincarnated souls, it¡¯s also the last memory they carry from their past life. And if they¡¯re an isekai character, getting hit by a ¡®Truck¡¯ seems to be the popular way to go. But hey, that¡¯s not my case. Don¡¯t go calling me ¡®Truck-kun,¡¯ alright!? Oh, what about my head rolling off my body by a tyrant¡¯s decree or in the midst of some bloody revolution? Woah, that¡¯s a bit too brutal, and what the heck could I have done to deserve that!? Alright, how about fighting a criminal mastermind and plunging off a waterfall together in a final act of heroism? Come on, do you think I lived my past life as some kind of ¡®Detective Protagonist¡¯ or something!? No, you might be a little disappointed¡­ I was just a normal person, living a normal life. My life wasn¡¯t cut short, but there wasn¡¯t really anything worth glorifying either. I didn¡¯t die a hero. My death was supposed to be from natural causes. I¡¯m not exactly sure what it was¡ªmaybe something went wrong with my heart, or maybe I just didn¡¯t wake up after that night. ----- ¡°Look, my Duke, Duchess! Your baby is a girl!¡± ----- A girl? Alright, so in this life, I¡¯m a girl... And from the titles¡ª¡®Duke¡¯ and ¡®Duchess¡¯¡ªit was clear that I had been born into nobility. Great, just great. Let¡¯s hope my parents aren¡¯t the overly ambitious type. The last thing I need in this life is to become some pawn in a game of political chess, married off to secure alliances or some strategic advantage. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°That¡¯s a pity! I was hoping for a child who could become a knight,¡± a woman¡¯s voice lamented, her tone tinged with genuine disappointment. I could almost picture her daydreaming about a future child¡ªwielding a tiny sword, clad in shining armor, gallantly riding a pony into battle. But then, a male voice spoke, casual yet brimming with pride. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my dear Mycella! Even if she can¡¯t be a knight, we could always train her to be a spy like me¡ªor perhaps an assassin like you!¡± Excuse me!? What kind of parents make future plans like that for their newborn daughter? And, by the way, what exactly is the meaning of ¡®a Spy like Him¡¯ and ¡®an Assassin like Her¡¯!? Is this some kind of twisted family tradition? What sort of legacy am I stepping into? ¡°BWAHHHHH!!!¡± I tried to protest the absurdity of my new reality, but all that came out was a loud, plaintive wail. My ¡®Father¡¯ chuckled at me. He probably thought I was just a startled baby, frightened by unfamiliar voices and the overwhelming sensations of the world. But he had no idea¡ªI AM TERRIFIED!!! Who wouldn¡¯t be, finding out that their papa is a spy and their mama is an assassin!? What happened to my peaceful, normal life!? ¡°Shhhhh! Sh! Shhhhh!¡± My ¡®Mother¡¯ lifted me into her arms, her touch gentle, her voice soothing as she hushed softly to calm me. ¡°Don¡¯t cry, little one. Your father is just joking!¡± ¡°Yes, before we properly train her to be anything, she needs a name first!¡± my ¡®Father¡¯ added, sounding far too excited for my liking. ¡°SILAS!¡± my ¡®Mother¡¯ scolded him, her voice sharp but filled with affection. ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯m just joking!¡± he said, holding up a small notebook filled with scribbled names¡ªevidence of the days they had spent debating their options. ¡°Let¡¯s see... We need a strong name. How about... ¡®Sherlin¡¯?¡± ----- Sherlin!? That¡¯s a very specific name... It¡¯s not exactly common, and there¡¯s only one particular character I can think of with that name. So, NO! Please, not her! I can be anyone, but not HER!! ----- ¡°Sherlin Hound! That is a nice name!¡± my ¡®Mother¡¯ agreed, her voice filled with joy and satisfaction as she combined it with our family name. That¡¯s it¡­ I¡¯m done! My life is done from the beginning!!! Chapter 1 Prologue Chapter 1 Prologue
Imagine yourself ¡®Reincarnated¡¯ into the cradle beneath the roof of a noble family¡¯s house. Your father is a respectable Duke, who bestowed upon you the title of ¡®Lady¡¯ at your birth, and your mother is an attractive woman, who passed on her elegant chestnut brown hair and natural beauty. Though they both have quite unique characters, your family is perfect as they are, adoring you more than anything in this universe. With wealth and privilege at the start of your life, it seems like an ideal beginning. And, despite this realm was inspired by Victorian culture and architecture, it is infused with a ¡®Steampunk¡¯ theme that lays the foundation for the Empire¡¯s technological superiority. Beneath a sky where armadas of airships soar above skyscrapers and machines fueled by clean and efficient energy, trust me, their innovations have somehow progressed far beyond what¡¯s supposed to be, making life convenient even for someone with memories from another world. Still, if you ask me, shouldn¡¯t I just be satisfied with the luxury of this new life? ----- NO!!! ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! ----- In this incarnation, I wasn¡¯t born into the body of an Otome game¡¯s ¡®Heroine¡¯ or a ¡®Redeemed Villainess,¡¯ destined to meet my soulmate or build a rom-com reverse harem. Instead, I¡¯ve been reincarnated into the body of ¡®Sherlin Hound,¡¯ a legendary Lady Detective Protagonist. A prodigy chosen to embark on perilous adventures, solve unsolvable mysteries, fight criminal organizations, and occasionally save the world¡ªespecially in high-budget film storylines. But, oh, what about my true self? Well, when comparing to her, I am nobody! No talent for disguises, no mastery of Bartitsu, no violin skills, and certainly none of her signature Powers of Deduction¡ªI don¡¯t share even a fraction of the Protagonist¡¯s true intelligence. So, how have I managed to ¡®Survive¡¯ this far? Alright, I admit my guilt: I¡¯m a Fraud¡­ Like cramming for an exam, sometimes the easiest way to find the correct answer is simply to remember it. In my case, most of the ¡®Answers¡¯ to the cases I face are already stored in the collection of stories I read in my previous life. ----- It¡¯s nearly eleven o¡¯clock at night, when I had been summoned out to somewhere in the capital¡¯s outskirts. And, I must say that it wasn¡¯t the opulent garden of a noble estate, where most ladies were supposed to enjoy the nightlife in their elegant dresses. Rather, I was standing in the middle of a wilderness, wrapped in my coat over a set of hastily thrown-on pajamas. Urgh, this should already be bedtime for a teenage girl. But my father¡¯s friend, Chief Inspector Henry Lestrade of the Metropolitan Knights, was clearly distressed when he called on me at my house. Facing that circumstance, it left little room for excuses or polite refusals. And yet, as I stepped down from the carriage, the whispers began, carried on the cool night breeze like the rustle of restless leaves. ¡°Why, of all people, did we summon her?¡± one knight grumbled. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s just a girl.¡± ¡°Careful, Sergeant,¡± another voice interjected, sharp with authority. It carried the weight of command¡ªlikely an Inspector. ¡°That girl has solved more unsolvable cases for our department than you¡¯d care to admit. Some of the superiors trust her judgment more than even ours¡ªand let me remind you, she wouldn¡¯t be out here if we didn¡¯t desperately need her aid.¡± ¡°How many cases could a girl like that possibly close on her own, I wonder?¡± another knight chimed in with a scoff. ¡°More than what most of our Investigative Knights could manage, I dare say,¡± the Inspector retorted without hesitation. ¡°If women were officially allowed to serve in the Metropolitan Knights, she¡¯d probably outrank you before her first year was out.¡± ----- Remember the case where the victim was struck down by a harpoon? She deduced the culprit was a seaman simply by observing their leftover drinks. Who else would think a preference for rum could mean anything to an investigation? Or what about the mechanic who lost his thumb? Everyone assumed it was just an accident until her questions uncovered an entire counterfeiting operation! And let¡¯s not forget the Norwood case. That businessman who faked his own death and framed his secretary for murder? We¡¯d have hanged an innocent woman if it weren¡¯t for her intervention! ----- ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re quite admiring her, Inspector.¡± ¡°Shut it, Sergeant! Look at her intelligence, her confidence¡ªand her vain beauty, if you must. Only a fool would fail to see the diamond in the rough!¡± **AHEM** It was time to make my presence known. With a theatrical cough, I drew their attention. Their reactions were priceless. One knight stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet, while the others stood straighter, their guilty expressions plain to see. Whether knights or ladies, gossipers were all the same¡ªThey all are flustered when they get busted! ¡°Excuse me, gentlemen,¡± I said with composure. ¡°Would you kindly lead me to the scene? Surely, there must be something urgent for the Chief Inspector to summon me in the dead of night.¡± ¡°R-right away, my Lady!¡± The Inspector stammered, his face flushing with embarrassment as he gestured for me to follow. The other knights scattered like startled pigeons, suddenly eager to look busy. ¡°Goddess bless us!¡± There he was¡ªSir Henry Lestrade. Worry was deeply craved into his weary face. ¡°Lady Hound, thank you for coming on such short notice. I¡¯m afraid the department is in crisis once again.¡± Oh, poor Lestrade! Though he was only a year away from retirement, the weight of responsibility still rested heavily on his shoulders. However, I suspected there were external pressures making his burden even worse. ¡°What? A girl?¡± a voice boomed nearby. ¡°Sir Lestrade, is this the help you¡¯ve asked me to wait for?¡± I turned to see an older man standing apart. Unlike the officers clad in full uniforms or the detectives in modest plain attire, this man was dressed in a luxurious silk smoking jacket and slippers. To be fair, his condition wasn¡¯t much different from mine, but it was clear he hadn¡¯t come here to assist in solving the case. ¡°Yes, Baron Ross!¡± Lestrade replied, standing straighter as he addressed the man. ¡°Allow me to introduce Lady Sherlin Hound. Despite her youth, she is one of the most intelligent individuals I¡¯ve ever had the privilege to work with. She has assisted the Metropolitan Knights in solving countless mysteries, and I trust her insights will prove invaluable in this matter.¡± ¡°Hound? Have I heard that name before?¡± The Baron¡¯s eyes narrowed curiously, but then waved the thought away. ¡°Whatever! I don¡¯t care who she is or what she¡¯s done. Just find my precious boy before dawn, or I¡¯ll make sure this incompetence reaches the Noble Council!¡± ¡°Sir, please calm down,¡± I said, stepping forward with professional composure. ¡°Who is this ¡®Precious Boy¡¯ you speak of? Is this an abduction case?¡± The Baron scoffed and turned away, leaving Lestrade to explain. ¡°Not exactly, my Lady,¡± Lestrade began. ¡°From what we¡¯ve uncovered, it appears to be a case of Theft-related Homicide.¡± ----- Victim Name: Johann Starker Age: 48 The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Time of Death: Estimated around midnight last night. Occupation: Horse trainer, employed by Baron Ross for several years. Cause of Death: The victim sustained a single, forceful blow to the front of his face, resulting in severe head trauma and a broken neck. Preliminary assessments suggest a blunt object, wielded with significant force, as the murder weapon. Discovery: The body was found earlier this evening in the wilderness just outside Baron Ross¡¯s estate. The Baron had dispatched a search party after Starker failed to return from his duties. Upon discovering the body, Baron Ross immediately contacted the Metropolitan Knights. ----- ¡°And what about the theft?¡± ¡°Oh, right!¡± Lestrade added. ¡°The victim wasn¡¯t the only thing missing. A search party is also looking for the Baron¡¯s prized racehorse. We suspect the theft may be the motive for Mr. Starker¡¯s murder.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°My precious boy is no ordinary horse,¡± Baron Ross interjected sharply. ¡°He¡¯s an expensive Thoroughbred¡ªtall, strong, handsome, and the champion of countless cups. His silver mane is smooth and beautiful. You can¡¯t imagine how much time, money, and effort it takes to groom him!¡± A racehorse? Wait a minute¡­ ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡± ¡°I named my boy Silver Blaze! Surely, you¡¯ve heard of him!¡± If he meant in this life, then no¡ªI¡¯ve never heard of it before. But in my previous life, ¡®The Abduction of Silver Blaze¡¯ is one of the most famous detective stories that¡¯s hard to forget! Of course, it¡¯s part of ¡®The Adventures of Lady Sherlin Hound¡¯ series, and it¡¯s just another mystery the original me has solved. The conclusion of the story is a real twist! However, if you¡¯ve read it before, you might already know how it ends. ¡°Baron Ross,¡± I said, maintaining my composure, ¡°I¡¯ll need more details about the caretakers of your horse. Other than your horse trainer, Mr. Starker, surely you have a stable hand to manage the daily chores?¡± ¡°Yes, young lady,¡± the Baron nodded, confirming. ¡°We have a boy named Ned who takes care of such things. He¡¯s supposed to check on the horse first thing, even before dawn. But, oddly enough, this morning no one could wake him until he stirred on his own around noon. He said he was just overly tired, but it was unusual.¡± ¡°Hm, interesting,¡± I mused. ¡°And aside from the stable hands, don¡¯t you have other security measures? Perhaps guard dogs?¡± ¡°We do, of course. Several, in fact,¡± Baron Ross said. ¡°They¡¯re well-trained to protect the estate. But for some reason, not a single one of them barked last night. It¡¯s as though nothing disturbed them!¡± ¡°Ah, that¡¯s precisely the detail I needed, Baron Ross.¡± I turned to the Chief Inspector. ¡°Sir Lestrade, during your investigation, did you find anything unusual? Evidence that seems out of place?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Lestrade began, ¡°we did find a knife. But since the cause of death is severe head trauma, it clearly isn¡¯t the murder weapon. It¡¯s small, more like a medical tool than anything else. I don¡¯t see how it could have been used for violence.¡± ¡°Of course, Sir Lestrade, such a tool wouldn¡¯t fit with victim¡¯s injury. But it could still serve other illicit purposes.¡± ¡°Finally, Lady Hound!¡± Lestrade excitedly interjected. ¡°You can solve this mystery now, can¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Regarding the death of Mr. Starker¡ªYes,¡± I said with quiet confidence. Even my lip couldn¡¯t resist smiling. ¡°I now understand everything. The truth behind Mr. Starker¡¯s death is different from the Metropolitan Knight''s ¡®Theft-related Homicide¡¯ theory. Actually, you can¡¯t say it is ¡®Homicide,¡¯ since the killer isn¡¯t human at all!¡± ¡°Wait!? Not human? Please tell me that you didn¡¯t mean¡­¡± Baron Ross was stunned by my revelation. ¡°Yes, Baron Ross, it¡¯s Silver Blaze who killed Mr. Starker. But, don¡¯t worry, even if he were a person, your precious boy won¡¯t be hanged for this.¡± ----- The conclusion of this story is straightforward. The fact that the man responsible for checking on the animal was unusually sleepy, and that none of Baron¡¯s guard dogs barked, points to an insider¡¯s involvement. The culprit must have had access to the estate to drug the stable hand, and he must have been familiar with the dogs, so they wouldn¡¯t have alerted anyone when he moved the horse out. Of course, the deceased, Mr. Starker, fits this profile. He is the culprit who stole Silver Blaze. When he arrived, he was equipped with a small medical knife, as described by Sir Lestrade. His intent was to sabotage Silver Blaze, likely by inflicting an undetectable injury. However, Silver Blaze, being highly intelligent and instinctive, sensed that something was wrong. In a panic and desperate to defend himself, Silver Blaze struck Mr. Starker with a powerful kick to the face. The resulting trauma was enough to cause the fatal head injury¡ªthe reason the initial assessment pointed to blunt force trauma. ----- ¡°Johann¡­¡± Baron Ross frustratingly groaned. ¡°URGH!!! You traitor bastard!¡± ¡°Now, to find a motive,¡± I continued, unfazed by his outburst, ¡°I suggest you check Mr. Starker¡¯s finances. I believe he was struggling financially and might have placed a large bet on another horse¡ªwhich would likely win, if Silver Blaze lose. That would explain his actions. Sir Lestrade, I trust you will take charge of the case from here. So, gentlemen¡ªGood Night.¡± ¡°Wait, Lady Hound,¡± Lestrade interjected, his voice rising in real urgency. ¡°You can¡¯t go yet! Where¡¯s the horse?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know,¡± I said casually, brushing off his concern and preparing to leave. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s escaped into the wild.¡± ¡°What!?¡± Baron Ross exploded, his face red with fury. ¡°Lestrade promised me that you would help get my precious boy back!¡± ¡°Oh, I see,¡± I turned to face him, my patience wearing thin. Does he really think he¡¯s the only one who¡¯s upset here? ¡°Instead of spending my time in bed with enlightening books and novels, I¡¯ve been dragged out to this wilderness to find a damn horse. Let me be honest, I¡¯m annoyed¡ªby your demeanor, your attitude, and maybe even your face! And also, I¡¯m no fan of gambling. I believe the only reason you¡¯re so concerned about your ¡®Precious Boy¡¯ is because you¡¯ve placed a huge wager on him!¡± The Baron flinched at my words, but I wasn¡¯t done. ¡°And you, Lestrade!¡± I snapped, turning to the Inspector. ¡°Don¡¯t you have more important priorities in your work? Isn¡¯t your job to investigate a crime, not to go fetching after some noble¡¯s lost property?¡± ----- ¡°Gentlemen,¡± a measured voice sliced through our heated conversation like a well-honed blade. It was both calm and commanding. ¡°I must apologize for the misbehavior of my Little Lady. She is an extraordinary girl, yet she still requires discipline to shape her into the perfect woman.¡± ----- All eyes turned toward the approaching figure. A woman stepped gracefully from the shadows, her presence commanding attention despite her modest black-and-white maid¡¯s dress. Her aura of authority was palpable, enough to unnerve even the seasoned Chief Inspector. With a piercing gaze that seemed to weigh and measure everyone in the group, she exuded an almost maternal sternness. Her posture was impeccable¡ªrigid and disciplined, like a soldier standing at attention. ¡°M¡ªMadam Hudson!?¡± Lestrade blurted, his usually steady demeanor faltering. ¡°Um¡­ Who is she?¡± Baron Ross inquired with curiosity. The woman turned to the Baron with a polite bow of her head. ¡°Greetings, my Lord. My name is ¡®Hudson¡¯¡ªor you may call me ¡®Madam Hudson,¡¯ if you prefer. I am the governess of Lady Hound. My duty is to take care of her, which includes teaching her manners and, on occasion, keeping her at bay.¡± ¡°Tsk¡­¡± I muttered under my breath, crossing my arms. Teaching manners and keeping me at bay? ¡°Oh, my good Madam, while I am here, where were you, then?¡± ¡°My Little Lady,¡± she replied with a calm, almost condescending smile, ¡°you are my mistress, but you are not my employer. Your father is the one who pays my salary, and he assigned me to an urgent task which, I must say, directly involves you.¡± With a measured gesture, she extended a sealed envelope toward me. For some reason, the air was suddenly thick with tension. Fighting against my fear, I kept my calm as I tore it open, revealing a folded slip of paper. Oh, it¡¯s just¡ªa betting ticket. THE HECK?! It¡¯s a betting ticket! Madam Hudson¡¯s lips curved slightly as she started to explain. ¡°Duke Silas asked me to urgently place a bet on Silver Blaze. He foresaw that you might be reluctant to involve yourself in finding a horse, so he thought this might¡­ motivate you.¡± ¡°300 gold coins?!¡± The number practically exploded out of my mouth. ¡°Indeed,¡± Madam Hudson said serenely. So serenely, in fact, that it sent a chill down my spine. ¡°A substantial sum, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± Of course, in this world, that¡¯s a large sum of money that any sane person would not ignore. But, ¡°Hmph! Even if the bet is lost, I don¡¯t see how it would affect our family finances.¡± If this was just another trickery Father thought up to control me as he wanted, then I must disappoint him at all costs! ¡°Quite true,¡± she agreed smoothly. ¡°However, you may find this particular wager more personal. You see, this sum happens to be your next monthly allowance.¡± Wuh¡­ ¡°WHATTTTT!?!?¡± Now, that¡¯s gone too far, even for Father and her! ¡°What do you mean, my allowance?! What kind of father throws his child¡¯s money into gambling?! And what kind of governess supports such an idea?!¡± ¡°Oh, please, my Little Lady,¡± Madam Hudson¡¯s expression didn¡¯t falter for even a moment. ¡°You are not a girl struggling in poverty. Even without your monthly allowance, our household will still provide you with meals and a roof over your head.¡± My jaw clenched, but before I could speak, she continued, ¡°However, in the matter of optional spending¡ªsuch as novels and other indulgences¡ªI regret to inform you that it must be suspended, if Silver Blaze fails to win, of course.¡± Chapter 2 The Prize for Lady Detective Chapter 2 The Prize for Lady Detective
Finding something that¡¯s missing isn¡¯t hard¡ªif you already know where to look. Even if someone tried to hide it by dyeing its silver mane and pretending it was just a regular workhorse, it wasn¡¯t exactly a masterwork of deception. Racehorses have a completely different build from working horses. Seriously, who uses a Thoroughbred for heavy labor? So, when I searched a nearby stable based on what I remembered from my previous life, it didn¡¯t take much effort to spot and identify the famed horse. To be honest, I was just following ¡®the Original Script.¡¯ I didn¡¯t do anything more than walk on the spath of someone who¡¯d already done it before. However, what lay beyond my confidence was the race¡¯s result. In ¡®The Abduction of Silver Blaze,¡¯ the story might conclude with the famed horse¡¯s glorious victory in the story. But what if reality had other plans? What would I do about my monthly allowance if something went wrong!? Damn it, Hudson! 300 gold coins turned into a ticket. If that horse lost, all that money would turn into worthless paper! ----- The starter raises his flag, and... they¡¯re off! Silver Blaze, as expected, takes the early lead, his majestic form cutting through the pack like a knife through butter. But wait¡ªthere¡¯s another challenger! Midnight Fury, pushing hard on Silver Blaze¡¯s flank and taking the lead! Could this be the race to dethrone our reigning champion? What is that!? Another horse!? Thunderstrike sprints so fast, closing the gap¡ªbut wait¡ªhe¡¯s exhausted! What a burst of speed, but it looks like he¡¯s spent everything he had! Midnight Fury still holds the lead, but Silver Blaze isn¡¯t backing down! The gap is closing, folks. The champion is digging deep, refusing to let his title slip away so easily. They¡¯re approaching the final bend now! Midnight Fury is holding strong, but here comes Silver Blaze¡ªhe¡¯s gaining ground, inch by inch, finding his second wind. They¡¯re neck-and-neck on this turn! Wait! Thunderstrike¡ªwhat a comeback! What in the world!? He¡¯s not done yet!? But alas, this seems too little, too late. He¡¯s trailing behind Midnight Fury and Silver Blaze, and now, the two leaders are pulling away. They¡¯re heading into the straightaway. Silver Blaze is surging! Look at him go! He¡¯s caught up to Midnight Fury! Silver Blaze pulls ahead¡ªMidnight Fury can¡¯t keep up anymore! Silver Blaze is flying down the stretch, powering through like a true champion! And there it is! Silver Blaze crosses the finish line first¡ªyet again! What an incredible race! The crowd is on its feet¡ªanother magnificent win for Silver Blaze, our reigning champion! Well done, Silver Blaze! What a performance! He truly deserves this victory! ----- ¡°Yes¡­ BOY!!! YES!!! Just like that!¡± ----- In the rush of adrenaline, I leaped from my seat and hurled my fan onto the ground in wild celebration. Sorry for my manner¡ªbut I absolutely deserved this moment! You see, it¡¯s not every day a lady finds herself in the risky position of having her father gamble away her entire monthly allowance¡ªand then miraculously win. But hey, don¡¯t get me wrong, I still firmly believe gambling is a terrible idea, especially when the sum at stake is as absurdly large as 300 gold coins. But today, fortune decided to smile on me. With that horse¡¯s victory, I had narrowly survived financial ruin. ¡°Ahem!¡± Oh, dear. It seemed the nearby spectators didn¡¯t share in my enthusiasm. One gentleman coughed pointedly, while others silently gazed, their raised brows speaking volumes. Clearly, their collective opinion was unfavorable: a young noblewoman blissfully dancing in public was far from proper behavior. So, ¡°Gentlemen, I must apologize for my unrestrained outburst.¡± Catching my breath and straightening my posture, I gave them a sheepish smile, attempting some damage control. ¡°I am quite a fan of that horse, you see, and found it¡­ difficult to resist celebrating its victory. I deeply regret disturbing your peace. Allow me to excuse myself and, if you would be so kind, please just forget my face!¡± Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and made a hasty exit. My heart still pounded with the thrill of Silver Blaze¡¯s victory as I clutched my betting ticket. My thoughts were already running wild with ideas on how to spend the payout. ----- Ah, yes, perhaps a new collection of books to fill my shelves? Or maybe I could invest in my household¡¯s R&D section? This fund might help them rediscover something useful from my previous life. But, hm, why don¡¯t I, the Lady, take an interest in something like clothing? Please, don¡¯t forget that this society is set in an Industrial Revolution! Sure, the steampunk elements might contribute to technological progress, but fashion is still stuck in the dark ages. Don¡¯t even think about something comfortable like jeans and T-shirts. And while there are, indeed, beautiful dresses, they are not the kind you¡¯d want to wear. By the standards of this era, ¡®Fashion¡¯ means elaborate gowns with layers upon layers of fabric, delicate embroidery, and¡ªcorsets. Bloody, damned corsets. I refuse to spend a single coin on a torture device for myself! Now, what about cosmetics? Uh¡­ Seriously, are you trying to kill me!? In case you weren¡¯t aware, cosmetics in this era are practically poisons. They¡¯re still in the trial-and-error phase, loaded with toxic ingredients like heavy metals. If you want my advice, avoid them entirely until at least the 20th century¡ªunless, of course, you can find a reliable reincarnated pharmacist in your world. ----- ¡°Hello, young lady, how may I be of service?¡± ----- ¡°I¡¯ve come for my payout, sir! Here¡¯s my ticket.¡± I handed it over with a victorious smile, already picturing the weight of gold in my hands. The teller, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes, glanced at the slip before raising a brow. ¡°You know, gambling isn¡¯t for children, right? May I ask you to confirm that you¡¯re not under 17 years old?¡± ¡°Of course¡­¡± Not. But considering my mental age is over seventy, I considered that more than qualified me for this. The man eyed me for a moment before shrugging and turning to his ledger. ¡°All right, 300 gold coins¡­ That¡¯s quite a sum.¡± His tone had subtly shifted¡ªmore cautious than before. I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Sir, is something wrong?¡± ¡°Well, no, not exactly,¡± he said, though his hesitation spoke otherwise. He slid a piece of document toward me. ¡°Just sign your name here, and I¡¯ll process your payout.¡± I picked up the quill but then¡ªpaused. ¡°Sir, is 2,700 gold coins correctly my payout?¡± I tapped the feathered tip against my chin, my gaze shifting from the document to the teller. ¡°Of course,¡± The man blinked. ¡°Why? That¡¯s a jackpot¡ªyou shouldn¡¯t be troubled over it.¡± ¡°No, sir, I¡¯m just curious about the payout rate.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. He adjusted his glasses and flipped through the betting records. ¡°Oh, you mean the 1:9 odds? Seems a lot of people were convinced that Silver Blaze could not win the first place, this time.¡± ¡°I see¡­ Is this related to the rumors about the horse¡¯s disappearance?¡± ¡°You heard about that, too?¡± The teller chuckled. ¡°Yes, it might¡¯ve played a part, but actually, there were also people who placed large bets on Midnight Fury¡ªthe second-place horse¡ªeven the day before the rumor spread. And I can say that those bets made up the largest portion of the pool.¡± A large bet on Midnight Fury? Even before the rumor spread? That¡¯s odd¡ªvery, very odd. From what I knew, only one person¡ªMr. Starker¡ªshould¡¯ve been aware that something would go wrong with Silver Blaze¡¯s performance. But the word ¡®People¡¯¡ªthat meant multiple individuals. I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. ¡°Sir, can you tell me anything more?¡± The teller sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve already said too much. Technically, client information is confidential.¡± I smiled, collecting my winnings. ¡°I understand. Thank you for your time.¡± ----- The unanswered questions clouded my mind. I wondered if this unusual odds shift was a consequence of something much larger than what I had uncovered in my investigation. However, the result favored me, didn¡¯t it? Even if a mysterious party was involved, their conspiracy had backfired spectacularly. Hah. What should I say? Congratulations, they outplayed themselves. So, I suppose there¡¯s no need to let this bother me anymore. ----- ¡°Lady Hound, you seem to be enjoying yourself a little too much. Are you truly convinced this is the end?¡± A whisper¡ªlight as a breeze, yet somehow slicing straight into my ear. No¡ªACTUALLY, IT WAS JUST BEHIND MY EAR! ¡°Ex¡ªExcuse me!?¡± I jolted upright, nearly dropping my well-earned fortune onto the ground. How on earth had this strange man managed to get so close without me noticing!? I spun around¡ªonly to be met with a stranger. A man with deep blue hair, slightly older than me, stood there, watching with an amused glint in his eyes. I had never seen him before¡ªor at least, I thought I hadn¡¯t. Dressed in a well-fitted suit, adorned with a top hat and a polished cane, he carried the air of a refined gentleman. His confident smirk, his effortless charm¡­ If I were writing a novel, I¡¯d have cast him as the perfect roguish hero. Sure, he was handsome, but¡­ Something was wrong. The atmosphere had shifted in an instant. My mind knew it was still midday, the sun shining overhead, and yet¡ªhis presence shrouded my senses. It felt as if the world had dimmed, as though I had unknowingly stepped into a foggy night. A chill crept over my skin, sharp and unnatural, like standing in snowfall out of season. And more than that¡ªwas he¡­ carrying a Scent of Death? Urgh¡­ What an infuriating person. ¡°Who are you? And how do you know my name?¡± The stranger took a step back and placed a hand over his chest in an exaggerated display of politeness. ¡°Oh, where are my manners? My name is John.¡± ¡°John what? John who?¡± I shot him a glare. ¡°And you still haven¡¯t answered my question¡ªhow do you know my name!?¡± ¡°Just ¡®John,¡¯ for now, Lady Hound.¡± His smirk deepened. ¡°And as for your name¡­ well, you are the only daughter of Duke Silas Hound, aren¡¯t you? It¡¯s unnecessary to search through the census to find it.¡± Buh, he is a real creep! If this was some kind of strategy to make a move on me, let me tell you¡ªit was a complete blunder! Sure, a girl might be impressed, if you know something about her, but knowing too much before we even spoke¡­ Good grace, is he a stalker!? ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve changed my mind. I don¡¯t want to know you anymore.¡± I turned, fully prepared to walk away. That ¡®John¡¯ guy chuckled. ¡°I see. And what about the unusual payout? You¡¯re not still curious about it?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± Yes. He nodded, as if he had already expected my answer. ¡°Johann Starker certainly benefited from Silver Blaze¡¯s loss, but he wasn¡¯t alone in his scheme. There were others¡ªindividuals with a vested interest in the outcome.¡± I crossed my arms. ¡°Please don¡¯t waste my time with things anyone could figure out. If you actually know something, then tell me¡ªwho are these people?¡± ¡°Forgive me,¡± ¡®John¡¯ guy tilted his head slightly. ¡°But this kind of business information is¡­ sensitive. Unless, of course, you happen to be someone with real authority to make me talk.¡± His words carried a teasing lilt, but his gaze was sharp¡ªmeasuring me. ¡°However,¡± he continued, ¡°what I can tell you is this¡ªI am one among those people who suffered a devastating loss¡­ all thanks to you.¡± ¡°Ah, I see¡­¡± I said with an exaggerated nod. ¡°You must be ¡®the Narcissistic Villain¡¯ type who loves to boast about his plans to the protagonist, even when they completely fall apart.¡± ¡°Villain? Protagonist?¡± He raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than offended. ¡°Are you under the impression that this is some kind of drama?¡± ¡°All the world¡¯s a stage,¡± I shot back. ¡°Everyone plays a role! And you, Mister, are involved in an illicit scheme that only benefits you when others unfairly lose¡ªthat¡¯s the mark of a true villain. Now, I wonder what you¡¯ll do next. Will you try to steal my money outright? Or perhaps extort me? If you so much as attempt either, I¡¯ll have the Metropolitan Knights on you in an instant!¡± The man raised his hands in mock surrender. ¡°Oh no, no¡ªdon¡¯t worry. I have no intention of doing anything to you.¡± He tapped the handle of his cane, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. ¡°You see, there are others who lost money¡­ just like me. Some are desperate. Some are ruthless. I doubt you¡¯ll make it home without facing peril. And when you do get robbed, well¡­ It would feel far more honorable for me to steal from the thief, instead of a lady.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°If you expect me to be robbed, then why warn me?¡± ¡°Because¡­¡± His smile widened. ¡°I think I¡¯d like to follow you home. But, if I did it without telling you, it would make me a ¡®Stalker,¡¯ right?¡± That¡­ eh¡ªwhat kind of twisted logic was that!? You know what? I couldn¡¯t tolerate him anymore! ¡°Do whatever you want. The streets are public property, after all. However¡ªjust because you insist you¡¯re not a stalker doesn¡¯t change the fact that you¡¯re a creepy jerk!¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy simply chuckled, tipping his hat. ¡°Goodbye then, Lady Hound. It¡¯s been truly delightful to see you in person.¡± Sorry, but I think not! Scoffing, I spun on my heel and marched away, determined to wipe our conversation from my memory. However¡ªjust as I took my first step outside the stadium, a stranger¡¯s hand seized my wrist. I understand that I recently had been warned about this kind of danger, but seriously!? I had barely taken a single step! ¡°There you are, you ungrateful girl!¡± A man¡¯s voice rang out¡ªloud, forceful, dripping with authority. ¡°Running off to gamble behind your father¡¯s back, have you!?¡± What¡ª!? ¡°Who on bloody earth are you¡ª¡± SMACK! A sharp crack echoed as the man¡¯s backhand struck my cheek. Pain flared across my face, stinging and sharp. My true father has never laid a hand on me like this, and even my mother, who often insists on teaching me about violent stuff, had strict limits¡ªnothing will ever go beyond the training grounds. Gasps rippled through the crowd. People turned to stare. Some whispered. For a brief moment, I was just as confused as they were. But the sting of the slap jolted my mind into clarity. ¡°I see now,¡± I said coldly. ¡°You¡¯re pretending to be an outraged father. Creating a domestic scene so that, even if you get violent, bystanders will hesitate to interfere.¡± His grip on my wrist tightened. ¡°Shut up, you little brat, or I¡¯ll hit you again!¡± Ah¡­ so that¡¯s how it was. In a truly civilized world, a bystander would have already stepped in. Or at the very least, this kind of incident would be instantly reported to the authorities. But even in my previous life, reality was never that ideal. So, I never expected to live in the Utopia here either¡­ ----- ¡°Hey! What are you doing!?¡± ----- Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the small canister tucked inside. It might look like perfume, but trust me¡ªthis wasn¡¯t something anyone wanted to smell. Before the man could react, I pulled it out and sprayed him point-blank in the face. It was a moment of silence¡ªbut then¡ª¡°ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!¡± His scream tore through the air as he stumbled back, clutching his face. Even a strong man uncontrollably cried like a child. ¡°You witch! What did you do to me!? What did you put in my eyes!?¡± Chapter 3 The Adventure of the Solitary John (1) Chapter 3 The Adventure of the Solitary John (1)
¡°This? This is oleoresin capsicum¡ª1.3% capsaicinoids.¡± In the world I came from, we called it ¡®Pepper Spray¡¯¡ªa non-lethal self-defense weapon designed to cause temporary blindness, intense burning pain, and respiratory distress. To extract the active ingredient, capsaicin, from Cayenne Chili, you need knowledge of pharmacognosy. And to turn it into a functional spray, you need an understanding of pharmaceutics to formulate it properly. If creating something like this makes me a witch, then by that logic, every pharmacist must be qualified for enrolling in a wizarding school! Still, there¡¯s legal stuff to consider. As a weapon, its possession is restricted depending on the country. Misuse can lead to serious consequences. However, in my nation¡ªthe Steam Empire¡ªno regulations exist for this device. As long as the victim isn¡¯t permanently maimed or seriously injured, it¡¯s an acceptable method to incapacitate a strong hostile man. I looked down at the writhing figure before me, watching as he clutched his face, gasping in agony. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, mister. You won¡¯t die. The effect is temporary¡ªit usually lasts about 15 to 45 minutes.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But if you want to get rid of it faster, try flushing your face with fresh water. Or, perhaps, you could just cry it out. Tears are water, after all.¡± ¡°You! You will regret this!¡± he howled between ragged gasps. I waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Yeah, yeah. But given your current condition, I doubt you¡¯ll be a threat anytime soon.¡± Slipping the spray back into my pocket, I finally took in my surroundings. The bystanders stood frozen, their faces caught in shock and unease. Their uncertainty made the air feel heavier, the silence pressing down on me. To break the tension, I feigned a bright, easygoing smile¡ªlike this had been nothing more than a simple product demonstration, but I don¡¯t expect applause or any feedback. However¡­ A slow, deliberate clap shattered the moment. ¡°That was the most brilliant thing I¡¯ve ever seen! It¡¯s both practical and innovative.¡± It¡¯s ¡®John¡¯ guy! He stepped forward, his eyes glinting with amusement as he continued clapping. ¡°If you decide to refine this and turn it into a commercial product, I¡¯d certainly be among your first customers. And if funding is an issue¡­¡± He tilted his head, grinning. ¡°I¡¯d be more than happy to invest. Would that make you a little more interested in me?¡± I met his gaze with nothing but disdain. ¡°No¡± was a single word that I would give to him! With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, willing myself to pretend he was nothing more than an inconvenient decoration in the background. The ¡®John¡¯ guy chuckled behind me, clearly unfazed by my rejection. ¡°Such a cold response,¡± he said. I refused to dignify him with an answer and kept walking. My patience had worn thin, and I had no interest in entertaining his games any longer. Behind me, the murmurs of the crowd still lingered from an incident, but I made up my mind that I wouldn¡¯t turn around to look back, even if there was an irritating jerk following me. Unhurried, steady, and unmistakably deliberate. That ¡®John¡¯ guy had no intention to hide his own footsteps. I understand, if he had already made it clear that he would follow me, and had no intention of harming me (at least, by himself), but it didn¡¯t help me to trust him a little bit. I couldn¡¯t let my guard down. So, I chose the safest path for today¡¯s circumstance¡ªthe busiest and busting street available¡ªthe path that I wouldn¡¯t walk with him alone. ----- ¡°Come in, come in, come in!¡± A lively voice boomed across the bustling square, nearly swallowed by the clamor of merchants, farmers, and eager shoppers. ¡°Today is the Farmer¡¯s Fair¡ªa grand celebration of the Month of Lady Harvest! Everything here has been freshly dug from the soil, plucked from the vine, or gathered at the peak of ripeness! We have fresh fruits, fresh meats, fresh vegetables¡ªand for those seeking to spark their love life, fresh flowers as well!¡± ----- The air hummed with life. Banners bearing the golden wheat emblem of the Farmer¡¯s Guild fluttered high above the stalls, proudly marking the annual harvest festival. The scent of earthy produce, spiced cider, and roasted meats wove together, wrapping the square in a warm, inviting aroma. For a brief moment, I actually found myself enjoying the sights and sounds of it all. This isn¡¯t bad¡­ not bad at all. ----- ¡°Vendor, care to recommend?¡± ----- The smooth, unmistakable voice halted me mid-step. I didn¡¯t know why, but I couldn¡¯t stop myself from listening. ¡°A man seeking advice? Wonderful!¡± The vendor clapped his hands together, beaming. ¡°Tell me, sir, what do you have in mind? How may I serve you?¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy sighed theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest as if deeply burdened. ¡°Well¡­ the girl I crushed seems quite frustrated with me at first sight. I wonder if I had made a misstep. Now, I seek something that might improve my chances of winning her over on another attempt.¡± My head snapped toward him in an instant, my glare sharp enough to cut steel. The vendor, catching on, glanced at me before leaning in with a knowing smirk. ¡°Ho, ho! A troubled romance, is it?¡± He lowered his voice conspiratorially. ¡°Is that the young lady, sir?¡± ¡°Yes, that young lady.¡± the cheeky man¡¯s lips curled into a grin as he met my gaze. ¡°Well, well! Then perhaps a bouquet of roses would be the perfect gift to soothe her mood,¡± the vendor suggested enthusiastically. ¡°Brilliant! A classic choice.¡± ¡°How many shall I wrap for you, sir?¡± ¡°A hundred.¡± The vendor nearly dropped the flowers. ¡°A hundred!?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± that ¡®John¡¯ guy said smoothly. ¡°A mere handful wouldn¡¯t be enough to express the depth of my admiration.¡± Admiration!? Admiration, my foot! His absurdity¡­ It was starting to choke me to death! ¡°What a passionate man! I like that! What else do you seek, sir?¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy tapped his chin in mock contemplation. ¡°Hmm¡­ what fruit would you recommend for someone intelligent and breathtakingly stubborn?¡± The vendor rubbed his chin. ¡°Intelligent, you say? How about apples? They¡¯re also in season.¡± ¡°The forbidden fruit of wisdom, huh?¡± that ¡®John¡¯ guy mused. ¡°Nothing could be more fitting for her than that.¡± Without breaking eye contact, he plucked an apple from the display and took a slow, deliberate bite. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Sweet,¡± he murmured. His lips curled into the most insufferable smirk I had ever seen. A shiver crawled down my spine. Goosebumps erupted over my arms. The vendor, blissfully unaware of my internal suffering, eagerly presented the next item. ¡°Sir, would you be interested in our homemade wine? A fine vintage¡ªstrong, smooth, and, well¡­ you never know, she might soften up after a drink.¡± Huh!? What kind of logic is that!? That ¡®John¡¯ guy chuckled. ¡°Oh, I highly doubt alcohol might not be her taste. But I¡¯ll take a bottle anyway.¡± ¡°And might I interest you in this fine silk scarf?¡± The vendor held up an elegant piece of fabric. ¡°Handwoven by the housewives of our guild¡ªhigh quality, perfect for a gift!¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy ran his fingers over the smooth fabric, then hummed thoughtfully. ¡°Perhaps it would help in warming her cold, cold heart.¡± Hey!? This man!? Seriously!? Didn¡¯t he just suffer a massive gambling loss? How dare he shop like he won the race himself!? Never mind! I took a sharp turn into a quieter street, seeking to put some distance between myself and that ¡®John¡¯ guy. His presence was a nuisance I could hardly shake, and I needed a moment to clear my head. The problem was, while I was so fixated on avoiding him, I might have forgotten that he wasn¡¯t the only potential threat today. ----- Wait¡ª!? Again!? ----- From the shadows, a hand shot out, pulling me into a dark alleyway. Before I could react, something cold and unforgiving pressed against my side¡ªa knife. ¡°Well, well¡­ you¡¯re a crafty one, aren¡¯t you?¡± the mugger sneered, his grip firm as he loomed over me. ¡°I saw what you did to that poor fool back there. Gotta say, that was a real dirty move for a lady your age! For a moment, I almost pitied him¡­ but lucky for me, he took the hit first. Now, I know better than to fall for the same trick.¡± I see. This mugger learned from someone else¡¯s mistake. As long as he had that knife against me, using the pepper spray wasn¡¯t an option¡ªhe could cut me before I even had the chance to aim. But women from the modern world have more tools for self-defense than just capsaicinoids, don¡¯t they? And this trick? I guarantee he¡¯s never seen it before. I let out a small, calculated sigh, feigning resignation. ¡°Fine, fine. I¡¯ll cooperate¡­ Just don¡¯t stab me.¡± The mugger smirked, relaxing just a fraction. ¡°That¡¯s a good girl. Now¡ª¡± BZZT!! A sharp crackling sound split through the alley as my concealed Wand discharged¡ªa surge of electricity coursing straight into his torso. ¡°¡ªGYYAAGHHH!!¡± The mugger convulsed violently, his body locking up as thousands of volts wreaked havoc on his nervous system. His limbs jerked and twitched uncontrollably, his face twisting in agony. The knife clattered to the ground as his fingers spasmed open. Then, as if his strings had been cut, his body lurched backward¡ªcollapsing onto the filthy ground with a heavy thud. I exhaled, lowering the device. The faint sizzle of static still crackled in the air. This project is called ¡®Taser Wand¡¯¡ªand if there was ever a moment where people might mistake me for a real witch, this would be it. Its principle? Just like its name¡ªa taser. To make this possible, I needed a small but high-capacity electrical capacitor¡ªsomething far beyond what Victorian-era science could provide. But thanks to the unique resources and technology of this steampunk world, it miraculously became a reality. However, I can¡¯t take full credit for its creation. This isn¡¯t entirely my invention¡ªI merely pitched the idea to a real scientist. And where did I get such an idea, you ask? Well¡­ Have you ever watched ¡®Guy Ritchie¡¯s Sherlock Holmes¡¯ film? Yeah. That scene, where the Detective Protagonist fights a giant Frenchman, is my inspiration. ----- ¡°Oh, what is this? Another science project? When will you stop impressing me?¡± ----- I whipped around, and there I found that ¡®John¡¯ guy¡ªbut this time, his hands full of shopping bags and a ridiculous bouquet of roses, balancing his polished cane against his arm like an afterthought. You know what!? I¡¯m done! I must get rid of him, right now! I brandished my Taser Wand, and sparked a menacing flickering. ¡°Are you interested to see a demonstration again!? This time, I¡¯d love for you to experience it by yourself!!¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy¡¯s eyes gleamed with amusement. ¡°Interesting.¡± He tilted his head, smirking. ¡°But I highly doubt you can follow through. Your device appears to be... out of energy.¡± Damn it. He¡¯s right. Due to the limitations of the technology I had access to, my Taser Wand only held a single-use charge before requiring a full day to recharge. Even though I could still press the button to make a sparks, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to electrocute someone again. ¡°Tsk!¡± Who exactly was this ¡®John¡¯ guy!? Did he really know my every move!? I let out a frustrated sigh, trying to steady my thoughts. ¡°I understand that following someone around isn¡¯t technically a distinct offense*,¡± I shot him a sharp glare. ¡°But I must say, your constant presence is starting to cause me Psychological Distress! I don¡¯t even know who you really are¡ª¡± (*Runny Note: Really, even if you dislike this fact, it wasn¡¯t. Most legal measures and regulations against ¡®Stalking¡¯ only came into existence in the 20th century, and they didn¡¯t become truly strict until the later half.) The man raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hey, I already introduced myself. I am ¡®John.¡¯¡± ¡°Yes, John, which John? There are a million Johns in the world! And that¡¯s not the point! If you were truly a fine gentleman, you¡¯d learn when to quit and just leave me alone!¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy smirked. ¡°Fine gentleman? That¡¯s absolutely not me. And didn¡¯t you tell me yourself? The streets are public property.¡± ¡°Ugh! Stop bugging me!¡± With my blood boiling, I could not resist screaming. ¡°I¡¯m not the kind of person who throws around my father¡¯s influence, but this time¡­ I¡¯ve had enough of you! If you don¡¯t stop getting on my nerves, I¡¯ll tell Duke Silas Hound to handle you!¡± A sharp intake of breath came from nearby. The multiple pairs of footsteps approached us. ¡°Oi, did she just say ¡®Duke Silas Hound¡¯?¡± A rough voice whispered. I turned my head¡ªfour men stood at the alley¡¯s entrance, eyes gleaming like hungry wolves. ¡°Lads, that¡¯s a jackpot! If we change the plan from simple mugging to ransom¡­ that¡¯ll fetch a bigger profit!¡± ¡°Damn right! We¡¯ll make more than that stupid gambling scheme!¡± another sneered. That ¡®John¡¯ guy sighed dramatically. ¡°Lady Hound, you shouldn¡¯t speak your father¡¯s name that loud.¡± ¡°What!? Is this my fault!? You¡¯re the one who pissed me off!¡± I snapped, arguing with him. But ignoring me, he turned to the gang with a casual shrug. ¡°Gentlemen! I''m actually one of her victims, you know? My finances have been severely damaged because of this young lady. If you don¡¯t believe me, I could show you my betting ticket. Now, if you¡¯d rather I walk away, that¡¯s fine¡­ but if you¡¯re looking for new members, I¡¯d be most grateful if you let me join your club.¡± ¡°What!? That¡¯s betrayal!¡± I sputtered. ¡°Betrayal? You cannot use that word, since I was never on your side.¡± I turned desperately to the thugs. ¡°Hey, but this man literally told me he¡¯d steal money from anyone who tried to rob me! Surely, that makes him untrustworthy, right!? Right!?¡± One of the crooks chuckled darkly. ¡°If the lady insists¡­ we can¡¯t just let him go.¡± ¡°See, see!?¡± I shot back at ¡®John¡¯ guy. ¡°We¡¯re stuck in this situation together now!¡± ¡°Stuck together? How romantic,¡± that ¡®John¡¯ guy grinned. ¡°But in that case, I can simply run away. If you can catch up, you¡¯re welcome to come with me.¡± ¡°What!?¡± I stared at him. ¡°Look at my dress! I can¡¯t run in this!¡± ¡°Then, Lady Hound,¡± he tipped his hat, his smirk widening, ¡°I believe it¡¯s time to say goodbye.¡± Before he could make his grand escape, I grabbed onto his sleeve and dramatically fell to my knees. With the most pitiful, wide-eyed expression I could muster, I clung to him like a desperate heroine in a tragic opera. ¡°Oh, please, my gallant gentleman!¡± I pleaded, batting my eyelashes. ¡°I beg you! Save this helpless damsel from her dire predicament!¡± That ¡®John¡¯ guy blinked, then chuckled. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Do it out of the kindness of your heart! Rescuing a lady in distress is the mark of a true hero!¡± He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ¡°Seriously, Lady Hound, what do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± I doubled down, gripping his sleeve tighter. ¡°My¡ªDear¡ªJohn!¡± Urgh! I could feel my dignity shattering into pieces. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t let these ruffians bully a fragile and adorable woman like me, right? Right!?¡± ¡°My dear John?¡± A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. ¡°Heh¡­ now you¡¯ve made yourself worthy of my protection, my dear Sherlin.¡± With that, he carelessly dumped his shopping bags into my arms, the weight nearly toppling me over. Before I could protest, he wrapped his scarf snugly around my neck¡ªa strangely casual yet possessive gesture. With an air of infuriating leisure, he stepped forward, his cane in one hand, the bouquet of roses still in the other. ¡°Wait, aren¡¯t you leaving those flowers with me?¡± I asked. ¡°Oh? You want them?¡± He smirked over his shoulder. ¡°Sorry, another time¡ªI need them for something else.¡± Before he finished his words, the bouquet was already in motion. A blur of red and green cut through the air, slamming into the nearest thug¡¯s face. Petals exploded in a vibrant shower, momentarily blinding him. Before the petals even hit the ground, John¡¯s fist followed through, striking with unrelenting force. The man¡¯s head snapped back, his body crumpling as roses rained down around him. He exhaled slowly, then spoke¡ª¡°Gentlemen, shall we begin?¡± Chapter 4 The Adventure of the Solitary John (2) Chapter 4 The Adventure of the Solitary John (2)
Amidst the falling petals, the crooks froze in shock and awe. One of their own had collapsed to the ground in a single strike, making the others hesitate. But John¡¯s curling lips and taunting gesture stoked their emotions. Rage clouded their judgment as they rushed forward in a blind charge. Three against one. That was an asymmetrical battle. Surely, this should have been an overwhelming disadvantage. But as long as he carefully controlled the flow, John wouldn¡¯t be the one caught in a tight spot. ----- Throughout history, war has never been fair. If there¡¯s one truth historians agree on, it¡¯s this: The battles worth remembering are the ones where an outmatched force defies the odds. Even in defeat, they earn glory¡ªbut if they win, their victory becomes legend. Among all battlefield strategies, one of the most timeless is ¡®Divide and Conquer¡¯¡ªa method used by brilliant tacticians to break superior enemies apart, striking them once they become isolated and weak¡ªflipping the table of who is inferior and who is superior. In the Waterloo Campaign, Napoleon used this tactic¡­ I know, I know¡ªit seems like a bad example since he lost in the end. But hey, facing the British-Prussian coalition¡ªwhen combined, they were nearly twice the size of his own army¡ªhis situation was technically screwed from the beginning in modern perspective. Still, from June 15 to June 17, Napoleon moved swiftly and gained the upper hand, thanks to ¡®Divide and Conquer.¡¯ And one of his fatal mistakes was his failure to fully execute the strategy¡ªallowing his divided foes to regroup and crush him at Waterloo. So, as long as John successfully finished his enemies one by one¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t end up on St. Helena¡­ ----- Instead of defending, John chose offense. As the first thug lunged, John struck first. His arm snapped forward, hooking around the man¡¯s wrist. With effortless control, he twisted the limb outward¡ªforcing the attacker¡¯s balance to shift. Using that stolen momentum, John swung him sideways, hurling him straight into his companion. John controlled the field¡ªensuring he never fought more than one at a time. Now, only one man remained standing. The crook hesitated¡ªbut only for a second. Then, driven by reckless rage, he swung his fist. John didn¡¯t step back. He didn¡¯t even dodge. He stood his ground. With a flick of his wrist, John¡¯s cane snapped upward, slapping the crook¡¯s hand away. I must admit, even watching it, I found it to be an annoying move. The thug threw punch after punch, but John barely had to move. He parried each strike effortlessly, conserving his energy while his opponent grew weary with every failed blow. Finally, the crook was barely holding his guard, his breath ragged, his body heavy with exhaustion. Chuckling, John grabbed the wine bottle from the shopping bag in my arm, then smashed it against the exhausted crook, who was too slow to react. CRACK! Glass shattered against his skull. Alcohol splashed across the floor. His body stiffened¡ªthen collapsed. ¡°Damn it, we shouldn¡¯t have underestimated him!¡± one of other crooks cursed under his breath as they scrambled to regain their footing, daggers flashing as they drew them from their pockets and charged forward. ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re saying that you were holding back?¡± John mused, amusing. With a swift motion, he grabbed the entire shopping bag and poured the apples onto the ground in front of him. The fruit scattered, creating a slippery mess that made the floor a hazardous terrain, no-ideal to run. The first thug, eager but clumsy, lost his balance on the slick surface. His foot skidded out from under him. Before he could right himself, John seized the moment¡ªplanting a firm hand on his chest and shoving him straight into the nearby wall. The man¡¯s body slammed into it with a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain. The second thug, undeterred, rushed in with his knife raised high. John barely moved. He sidestepped with practiced ease, letting the momentum of the attack work against his opponent. The crook stumbled forward¡ªexactly what John had been waiting for. In one smooth motion, he hooked his leg behind the man¡¯s, sending him crashing face-first onto the floor. Before the thug could recover, John knelt down, gripping the broken bottle from earlier, its jagged edge gleaming under the dim light. He leveled it just inches from the man¡¯s throat. ¡°Stay down!¡± with a low and steady voice, he commanded. The thug, wide-eyed and terrified, scrambled backward before turning tail and fleeing, leaving his unconscious companions behind. ----- Jujutsu Art of Grappling & Throws La Canne de combat Improvising Weapons Environmental Control Disruptive Tactics If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Energy Efficient ----- ¡°Wait, is this a real¡­ Bartitsu?¡± The very martial art that the Original Sherlin and other ¡®British Gentleman¡¯ hero tropes used to fight against villains. In my two incarnations, this was the first time I had ever seen it outside of television and film! ----- John, standing over his fallen opponents, turned to me with a knowing smirk. ¡°Oh? So, you recognize my fighting style despite never practicing it?¡± ¡°Could you please shut up!? You aren¡¯t finished fighting yet!¡± I snapped, pointing past him. John followed my gesture with an unhurried glance. The last thug was still struggling to stand, his limbs shaking, groaning in pain. ¡°You mean that guy?¡± John rolled his shoulders, as if this whole ordeal was an annoying chore. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll put him to sleep.¡± Before I could say anything, John casually reached for my scarf¡ªthe very one he had wrapped around me earlier¡ªand unwrapped it without a second thought. ¡°Wait! What are you¡ª? Are you trying to murder him!?¡± ¡°Of course not. I just want to make him unconscious,¡± John replied nonchalantly as he wrapped the fabric around the thug¡¯s neck. ¡°Seriously!? Do you have to strangle him!?¡± ¡°And what do you suggest? Should I just knock him out with something?¡± ¡°NO! I¡ªUrgh¡­ I don¡¯t know!¡± ¡°Relax, I¡¯m a professional,¡± he assured me with an infuriating amount of confidence. ¡°I know my own strength.¡± I wanted to argue, but in this situation, I didn¡¯t know what to argue. Actually, I never knew what the proper way to knock someone unconscious even was! Oh, no, why must I have to see something like this!? But then¡ª¡°Damn you¡­¡± My breath hitched. The first thug¡ªthe very one John had knocked out first¡ªwas stirring. As soon as he regained consciousness, was fumbling inside his coat¡ªreaching for something in his pocket, and¡ªSh*t! It¡¯s a gun! John was still busy restraining the last conscious thug, completely unaware of the danger before him. So, ¡°John¡ªLook out!¡± I warned him to act. With a quick thinking, John responded by kicking one of the stray apples to disrupt the aim. It wasn¡¯t enough to disarm him completely. But it was enough to give me an opportunity. Alright, I knew what I was about to do was reckless and absolutely unprofessional. But, come on¡ªwho the hell needs to be professional when it comes to biting? ----- ¡°GAHHH!?¡± ----- Just like that, my teeth sank into the thug¡¯s hand. He let out a strangled scream, his fingers instinctively loosening¡ªjust enough for the pistol to slip from his grasp and clatter onto the floor. My job was technically done the moment he was disarmed, but I didn¡¯t stop there. I bit down harder, sinking my teeth in deeper until my jaw started to ache. Unfortunately, the thug had no intention of letting me get away with my dirty tactics. ¡°Y-You little¡ª!¡± he snarled, rage twisting his face. Before I could react, his free hand tangled with my hair. With a vicious yank, he pulled my head back, tearing me away from his bleeding hand. A sharp pain exploded across my scalp as I was forced to release my bite. Good grace, I¡¯d made him furious. If he wanted to kill me now, I understand him. His eyes burned with fury as he reared his arm back, preparing to strike. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. But before anything could come down to harm me¡ªSHINK! A sharp, metallic whisper sliced through the air. The villain froze. For an instant, the fire in his eyes was smothered¡ªextinguished by the cold steel now resting mere inches from his exposed throat. It was a concealed blade drawn out of his cane. ¡°I¡¯d advise against that.¡± John¡¯s voice was calm, but his gaze bore down on us with an icy menace. The thug shuddered, his entire body going rigid. His grip on my hair loosened. I staggered back, rubbing my sore scalp. ¡°Smart choice,¡± John muttered. And in the next instant¡ªCRACK. John¡¯s boot met the thug¡¯s face. The man¡¯s body jerked violently before collapsing to the ground, unconscious. This time, I doubted he¡¯d be waking up anytime soon. ¡°Wait¡ªyou¡¯ve been carrying a sword this whole time!?¡± John slid the blade back into his cane and turned to me, his expression sharp and¡ªwait, was he angry? ¡°Is that really your biggest concern right now!?¡± he shot back. ¡°What the hell were you thinking when you threw yourself at a gunman!?¡± I flinched at his intensity. I had expected sarcasm, maybe even smugness¡ªbut anger? This was new. ¡°What if something went wrong? What if he shot you? Did you even consider what could have happened!?¡± My irritation flared. ¡°Oh, so now this is my fault? My fault!? The guy was about to shoot you! I was technically saving your life! Shouldn¡¯t you be more grateful!?¡± John scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to contain a headache. ¡°Grateful? You¡¯re the one who dragged me into this fight in the first place! I should be the one asking you to be more grateful!¡± I threw my hands up. ¡°Fine! How about 300 gold coins? Can I pay you that?¡± His head snapped up. ¡°¡­What?¡± ¡°500 gold! I¡¯ll pay you 500 gold coins if that makes you feel better!¡± John stared at me like I had lost my mind. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m some cheap mercenary you can buy off with pocket change?¡± ¡°Wha¡ª1,500 gold! That¡¯s over half of what I won today! Are you seriously not satisfied!?¡± ¡°You¡ªStop it! If I really wanted your money, don¡¯t you think I¡¯d squeeze everything out of you!?¡± ¡°2,700 gold!¡± I all but shouted, desperate to end this ridiculous conversation. ¡°Take all of it! Just let me go home in peace!¡± John exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple like I was giving him a migraine. Then, with a smirk that sent a chill down my spine, he said, ¡°After getting mugged three times in a row? I think not. I¡¯m walking you home whether you like it or not. But as for my payment¡ªI¡¯ll ask for it later, as a favor.¡± That sounded... ominous. I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Wait¡ªwhat kind of favor?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t know, yet,¡± he shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll think of something." "Hold on, and what about your financial loss!?" ¡°Oh? Worried about me now, my dear Sherlin?¡± ¡°Considering I¡¯m more worried that my savior might sink into debt, yes.¡± John chuckled, tapping his cane against the ground. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. In this era, nobles aren¡¯t the only ones who are filthy rich. Commoners have their own ways of standing equal to the aristocracy of the Ancien R¨¦gime.¡± He gave me a pointed look, his smirk deepening. ¡°Besides, I gained something far more valuable¡ªan experience no amount of money could buy. So today, I¡¯m very happy to lose money to you.¡± Chapter 5 Interlude Chapter 5 Interlude
True to his word, John followed me all the way home. Even if my Bakerstead Estate was located at the outskirts of the city, he still insisted on catching the same train. He didn¡¯t seem bothered that it might be a great detour from anywhere he lived. Maybe¡­ I should be more positive about him, considering that after he accompanied me as an escort, nothing had caused me trouble. With him sitting nearby, I felt at ease enough to rest. And when we reached the destination, he woke me up. ¡°Wakey, wakey! You¡¯re too trusting of your rescuer! Just because he saves you once, doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯ll forever have good intentions toward you.¡± I groaned, opening my heavy eyelids. ¡°Uh¡­ Why do you really want me to think of you as the villain so badly?¡± ¡°Hey, it¡¯s my goodwill! I don¡¯t want you being fooled by anyone else, except me, at least!¡± I sighed, resting my head against the window once again. The train slowed, and with a creak, it came to a halt at Bakerstead Station. As the doors slid open, the fresh countryside air rushed in, carrying the sweet, earthy scent of fields and forests. Outside, the landscape stretched in all directions¡ªa peaceful vast greenland contrast to the mechanical world of Steamburg. People lived here at a much slower pace and agriculture was their life. There might be a few lumber yards and a mining industry here but pollution here was much lesser than the Heart of most Industrial Nation on this earth. This land was the closest countryside oasis for Steamburg. And it will remain as long as it¡¯s under my father¡¯s ownership. ----- ¡°Well, I¡¯ve reached my home¡­ Now, get lost!¡± ----- I stretched as I stepped onto the platform, turning to John with a flat stare. He placed a hand over his heart with a dramatic gasp. ¡°Cold to me again? I see¡ªI¡¯ve already outlived my usefulness.¡± ¡°Well, yes.¡± ¡°Aw, my heart¡ªwounded beyond repair! If I had known this would happen, I would¡¯ve jumped into the sea when the train crossed the bridge.¡± ¡°It would be the polite thing for me to plead with you not to do that¡­¡± crossing my arms, I answered with frustration. ¡°But judging from your tone, I doubt you must be someone too vain to die by your own hand.¡± John let out an amused chuckle, but I didn¡¯t wait for a response. I turned on my heels and strode toward the manor. As I approached the grand estate, the knights standing at the gate saluted before letting me pass. ----- ¡°Welcome back, my Little Lady.¡± ----- For a noble family, allowing their daughter to come and go as she pleased was surely considered a taboo practice. No respectable household would ever dream of letting their young lady step beyond the estate¡¯s gates without an escort, much less roam the city streets unsupervised. Yet here I was, doing exactly that¡ªreturning home unattended, my hair a tangled mess and my body bruised¡ªwithout a single question asked or a scolding waiting for me. This wasn¡¯t negligence. This wasn''t an oversight. This was exactly how my parents intended to raise me. Having grown up in unconventional circumstances themselves, they saw no issue with raising me in an equally unconventional manner. To them, near-limitless freedom wasn¡¯t just a privilege¡ªit was a fundamental part of my upbringing. They believed that, once I was old enough to understand the world, I was old enough to navigate it on my own. I know this was supposed to be a rare blessing for women in Victorian society. But lately, I am beginning to see it as a curse in disguise. You see, my father was a Spy, and my mother was an Assassin. Neither of them had a common sense about their child''s safety. And the only reason their parenting hadn¡¯t ended in absolute disaster was that I¡¯d already lived an entire life before this one¡ªor I might have probably gotten myself killed as a child! ----- ¡°My Little Lady, you snared a man home today?¡± ----- When the door swung open, a familiar voice sliced through the air. My governess stood at the front, hands neatly folded in front of her. Her composure was unwavering. Even when she roasted me, it was always done with the utmost grace. ¡°Oh, Hudson, my good madam! Is that a good thing to tease your dignified mistress?¡± ¡°You are many things, my Little Lady, but ¡®Dignified¡¯ isn¡¯t one of them,¡± she replied, as calm as ever. ¡°Especially when you return home in such a dreadful condition.¡± Urgh¡­ Talking about this, ¡°Isn¡¯t it you and my Father¡¯s fault!? If it weren¡¯t for your scheme to bet my monthly allowance on a horse race, I wouldn¡¯t have been a target for robbery!¡± ¡°I accept this complaint, my Little Lady,¡± Hudson nodded her head slightly. ¡°However, if you wish for your father to hear it, I suggest filing it directly with him at dinner. He and your mother are both waiting for you.¡± Ah, yes. Another ordinary day in the life of Lady Sherlin Hound. Whether I narrowly avoided being taken hostage or barely escaped from a furious criminal, my parents always welcomed me home with a warm meal, as if nothing had happened. If we ignored the glaring fact that allowing one''s child to live like this should be considered a form of ¡®Child Endangerment,¡¯ then¡­ sure. I suppose their support was admirable, as they believed they were letting me pursue what I was ¡®Good¡¯ at. The problem is¡­ Being a detective isn¡¯t what I¡¯m good at at all. And even if it was, it¡¯s certainly not something I want to do¡ªunless the situation is truly urgent enough to require my attention. ¡°Hello, Sherlin! How was your day?¡± A sweet, maternal voice welcomed me back after what had been a long and troubling day. My mother, Mycella Hound, sat at the dining table, dressed in a loose, casual blouse with her sleeves rolled up. Despite being the Duke¡¯s wife¡ªmaking her a Duchess by title¡ªshe had never adopted the refined manners expected of noblewomen as she was never born into nobility. Yet, whether it was due to her beautiful presence or her peak-human strength, the household servants respected her all the same. I let out a long sigh before dropping into my seat. ¡°Well, Mother, if we don¡¯t count the fact that I was mugged three times today¡­¡± I trailed off, throwing a pointed look at my ever-calm father, waiting to see if he would react. ¡°¡­I¡¯d say it was a lucky day! Someone gave me a betting ticket, and I ended up winning 2,700 gold coins.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s amazing!¡± my mother clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. ¡°But what about those poor muggers who were foolish enough to attack you?¡± I leaned back and took a first bite from my plate. ¡°If we¡¯re keeping track¡ªfive were left groaning on the ground where I last saw them. One managed to run away.¡± At the head of the table, my father, Duke Silas Hound, finally met my gaze. His immaculate silver hair was neatly combed. As the true noble-born in this family, poise and control came as naturally to him as breathing. Unlike my mother, who radiated the untamed energy of a blazing fire, my father embodied the stillness of a deep, unshaken ocean. ¡°Now that is a new statistic.¡± A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he rested his chin against his fingers. ¡°You see, my love¡ªa poor performance on the training ground does not determine our daughter¡¯s survivability in real-world situations.¡± ¡°EXCUSE ME?!!¡± I slammed my hands on the table, my blood boiling. ¡°Sure, I handled two of those men myself, but during the last attack, I was surrounded by a gang of four! They even threatened to abduct me! If it weren¡¯t for someone stepping in, I might not have made it out in one piece!¡± My mother¡¯s eyes sparkled with curiosity. ¡°Oh, so our daughter has a charming prince?¡± Wait. What!? NO!!! ¡°Not charming!¡± Not charming at all! I recoiled, horrified at how my mother had just framed the Jerk in such a¡­ heroic way. ¡°He¡¯s a stalker, a pervert, and a total jerk! Sure, he saved me from those crooks, but he mentally disturbed me along the way¡ªwhich I am NOT okay with!¡± Silence filled the dining room for exactly two seconds before my father took a casual sip of his wine, humming thoughtfully. ¡°Hmph. Sounds like a fascinating individual. Who is this man, may I ask?¡± I crossed my arms, still fuming. ¡°His name is ¡®John.¡¯¡± ¡°Which John? What John? There are a million Johns in the world!¡± my father questioned. ¡°Well, that¡¯s exactly my question, Father! But that weirdo avoided to answer me!¡± My father rested his chin on his fingers, considering. ¡°I see¡­ then it¡¯s likely because he¡¯s an orphan.¡± I frowned. ¡°Orphan?¡± ¡°To have a last name means to have a family. If he never knew his parents, then where would he get a surname from?¡± I blinked. That¡­ actually made sense. ¡°I never thought about that before.¡± But then another issue came to mind. ¡°Still, he seemed far too young to be that rich. How does someone like him make that kind of money without family support?¡± My father tilted his head slightly. ¡°That might be¡­ because he pursued a career involving crime.¡± ¡°C¡ªCrime!? Are you telling me that the man who¡¯s been stalking me is a CRIMINAL!?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a possibility. For one to legally ¡®Grow Tall¡¯¡ªpeople need a foundation. But for those without one, they have only two choices: wait for an opportunity from those who already stand above¡­ or climb up on their own and take it.¡± Thinking back on it¡ªJohn had a strange behavior. ¡°I see. That¡¯s¡­ reasonable.¡± His mindset was far from that of an ordinary person, and he had single-handedly taken down multiple men with disturbing ease. ¡°Father, let me ask you directly. This isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve come home after an ¡®Unfortunate Event¡¯¡ªdon¡¯t you, as my ever-dutiful father, think it¡¯s time to improve my security measures?¡± Duke Silas hummed thoughtfully, then sighed. ¡°Hah¡­ my daughter is acting like a grumpy old woman again. I don¡¯t assign you an escort because it would only hinder you and be terribly inconvenient. Shouldn¡¯t you youngsters prefer freedom in life?¡± ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s true.¡± If this were my first time being a youngster, perhaps I¡¯d agree wholeheartedly. But this world isn¡¯t some idyllic, peaceful land. It¡¯s the setting of a detective story¡ªone where the BLOODY WRITER (!?!?) purposely designed it to be twistingly dangerous. Here, there may not be a Demonic Being looming over humanity, threatening the world¡¯s destruction, but the criminals¡ªsome of them are monstrosities in human flesh. And while there may not be a Dark Emperor wielding unlimited power, the masterminds of this era are no less crafty and resourceful. They weave conspiracies without the need for supernatural forces. Which is why¡­ ¡°Father, my job can be more efficient, if you help me find an Investigative Partner?¡± ¡°An Investigative Partner?¡± My father raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting suggestion. But I have my doubts¡ªwho in their right mind would agree to partner with you?¡± Hey, about that¡ªI had an idea. I sat up straight, a spark of excitement in my voice. ¡°How about we hire a knight?¡± ¡°A knight?¡± my father repeated, his tone skeptical. ¡°Yes! A veteran¡ªsomeone looking for additional income after receiving an honorable discharge. A brave, trustworthy, and dependable gentleman! And if he happens to be a battle surgeon and enjoys writing, that would be perfect for my investigations!¡± My father chuckled lightly, swirling the wine in his glass. ¡°Hmph. That¡¯s quite the specific character you¡¯re describing. But you know what? I don¡¯t think it would work.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± I frowned at my father''s answer. ¡°You see, if someone received an honorable discharge, there¡¯s a reason they left military service. An injury or a desire for a more stable life are likely their reasons. And if he has medical knowledge¡ªespecially as a surgeon¡ªwhy wouldn¡¯t he open a clinic instead of running around solving crimes with the Lady Detective?¡± My father was¡­ very right. Wait a minute¡­ Does that mean the character of Sir William Watson is a bunch of bullsh*t!? Good grace, if what Father said is true, and someone like Watson could never logically exist in my story, then¡­ then¡­ where am I supposed to get my investigative partner now!? ¡°Sherlin, why the long face?¡± My mother¡¯s voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. She clapped her hands together, eyes twinkling mischievously. ¡°We might not find someone who fits your specific criteria, but if what you want is a brave, trustworthy, and dependable gentleman¡­¡± She turned to Father, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. ¡°Darling, I think it¡¯s time for Sherlin to start accepting suitor applications!¡± ¡°PFFT¡ª¡± I spat out my drink, nearly choking on my mother¡¯s absurdity. ¡°**Cough**¡ª**Cough**¡ªMother, I think you¡¯re confused! I didn¡¯t mean that kind of partner! I want a professional partnership, not¡ª¡± ¡°Hm¡­ this isn¡¯t a bad idea,¡± my father mused. ¡°WHAT!?!¡± Instead of dismissing my mother¡¯s absurd suggestion, he nodded in approval. ¡°Rather than hiring a temporary companion, why not find someone you can permanently rely on for the rest of your life¡ªfor free?¡± ¡°Father, I¡¯M FIFTEEN! Alright, at the end of this month I might be sixteen, but don¡¯t you think I¡¯m far too young to be thinking about marriage!?¡± ¡°Young?¡± My mother¡¯s voice rose in amusement. ¡°Oh, daughter, do you not realize that most girls your age are already preparing for marriage? If you were born into another family, they¡¯d have arranged your betrothal years ago.¡± ¡°But¡­ but marriage isn¡¯t everything, Mother!¡± I scrambled for an argument. ¡°I need more time! I¡¯m not ready yet!¡± ¡°Time?¡± Father¡¯s deep voice cut through the air, steady but firm. ¡°And how long do you suppose it will take for you to feel ready, Sherlin?¡± ¡°Twenty-five!¡± The words tumbled out before I could think. ¡°Twenty-five is the perfect age! I¡¯ll find someone by then, Father, I promise!¡± My father paused for a moment before letting out a low, amused chuckle. ¡°Twenty-five? Are you serious, Sherlin?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Twenty-five is far too old. Do you want to ¡®Die a Virgin¡¯?¡± ----- Uhhhhhh!!! That phrase¡ªDie a Virgin¡ªcut through me like a sharp blade, piercing my heart brutally. Since I never told my parents, or anyone, about the secret of my reincarnation, they had no idea that I¡¯d already died a virgin once! But honestly, being single for life isn¡¯t that bad¡­ ----- So, ¡°Father, what¡¯s wrong with DYING A VIRGIN?!¡± I snapped. ¡°Sherlin, what¡¯s happened to you? Why are you suddenly so frustrated?¡± My mother was stunned by my response. ¡°This is something we have to discuss one day. You see, we don¡¯t want you to grow old without someone by your side.¡± Oh, no, no, no¡ªI disagree! Even though I lived my past life without a partner, I still had friends, family, and my companion cat. However, for something like romance and ¡®Crush,¡¯ they were just an unnecessary distraction. ¡°Mother, I¡¯m fine with that. If it has to happen, so be it.¡± My mother gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. ¡°Sherlin, my child¡­¡± My father, however, remained calm, studying me carefully before speaking. ¡°I don¡¯t know where these ideas come from, but in the Steam Empire, noble ladies who wish to avoid marriage are usually those seeking religious devotion. Tell me, do you really plan to become a nun?¡± ----- You know what? That¡¯s blatant discrimination against unmarried women! But fine¡ªI admit it! It¡¯s partly my fault for forgetting that this world¡¯s societal development is still backward! Right now, the word ¡®F¨¦minisme¡¯ has only just been coined, and it won¡¯t be until the end of this century that the concept becomes widespread and commonly understood. Oh, and don¡¯t even think about mentioning ¡®Gender Equality¡¯ to these two¡ªthey wouldn¡¯t have any clue what I was talking about. ----- ¡°Father, Mother, I am sorry! Please pretend that we never talk about this thing today.¡± Chapter 6 Lady Detective Consultant Chapter 6 Lady Detective Consultant
Despite telling my parents to pretend we never talked about it, suitor applications kept mysteriously appearing¡ªneatly tucked inside my investigative request tray. Every day, I had one more task added to my workload: personally writing rejection letters. I made sure they were clear and polite. And yet¡­ even after my careful refusals, a few of them still showed up at my doorstep. Of course, after being recently turned down in writing, they didn¡¯t arrive with flowers or extravagant gifts. Instead, they pretended to be clients. I had to wonder¡ªhad someone secretly advised them...? ----- Please, my fair Lady, I have a heartache! A long-lost love¡­ a mystery that haunts me! Five years ago¡ªat the Grand Masquerade Ball¡ªI met her. A masked lady, brilliant and breathtaking, who stole my heart at first sight. At the time, I was just an ordinary young noble¡ªno fame, no glory, no power to my name. I didn¡¯t even have the confidence to approach her. But she¡­ she was so brave! When a murder occurred amidst the ball, she was the first to step forward, solving the case without effort ----- Under the pavilion¡¯s roof was where I heard my clients. You might imagine a detective consultant¡¯s office as a gloomy space, cluttered with old newspapers and case files. But no¡ªthis was my office. Set in the middle of a blooming garden, it was the kind of place most noble ladies would use for socializing. But¡­ ----- Murder. Solving the case. Chestnut brown hair. ----- Today, the missing person case was oddly specific. I stared at him for a moment. Then, with a polite smile, I said¡ª¡°Congratulations, Major Richard! I think I know exactly who you¡¯re looking for.¡± His eyes widened with hope. ¡°You do!? You know where she is?¡± I nodded solemnly as I sipped my tea. ¡°Yes. In fact, the one who solved that murder¡­ was me.¡± His face lit up. ¡°Then¡ªthen it was you! You are my first love!¡± ¡°Unfortunately¡­ no.¡± Putting my cup down, I leaned back in my chair. ¡°That party was painfully boring. So, I hired a peasant girl with similar hair and body proportions to act as my ¡®Double¡¯ while I secretly played board games in the courtyard with a friend.¡± ¡°W¡ªWHAT!?¡± ¡°Yes, she played my role for the evening. If you truly fell in love at first sight¡­ then you actually fell for her. If you¡¯re interested, I can give you her contact information.¡± ¡°H-Hold on a moment, Lady Hound! What about the case? The murder!?¡± ¡°Oh, that? My double called me on a device called a ¡®Telephone.¡¯ I solved it over the line and had her pretend to be me while revealing the truth.¡± Silence. The man named Richard stared at me, visibly shaken, as his well-rehearsed script crumbled before him. ¡°¡­Really?¡± I met his gaze, letting the tension hang for a moment. ----- ¡°No. I¡¯m bluffing. Please, f*ck off!¡± ----- With a snap of my fingers, two of my family¡¯s retinue knights appeared. ¡°Lady Hound, wait! Please hear me first! My love is real! I¡ª¡± Before he could finish, the knights each grabbed an arm and hauled him away. I let out a weary sigh, rubbing my temples. This was getting exhausting. If I had to keep wasting my energy dealing with these persistent suitors, I wouldn¡¯t have any left for actual cases. ¡°Hello? Lady Hound?¡± A familiar voice called from the pavilion¡¯s entrance. ¡°I see your latest guest has already been escorted out. May I come in?¡± I looked up, narrowing my eyes. ¡°What!? Lestrade!? You, too!?¡± In case you were confused, this Lestrade wasn¡¯t Chief Inspector Henry Lestrade from the first chapter, but his son, Sir Gregory Lestrade¡ªa young newly appointed Inspector Knight. ¡°¡­Me too?¡± He frowned, clearly baffled. ¡°Wait, Lady Hound, what are you talking about?¡± I crossed my arms, already bracing for another headache. ¡°I know you¡¯re my mother¡¯s favorite ¡®Kid-Next-Door.¡¯ But if you came here with some ridiculous case just to use it as an excuse for a blind date¡­¡± I gestured toward the entrance. ¡°I swear, if you won¡¯t escort yourself out right now, I¡¯ll have someone throw you straight to her feet instead.¡± Lestrade raised both hands in defense. ¡°My Lady, you¡¯ve got it all wrong! I¡¯m actually here on business. I bring several unsolvable cases in the name of the Metropolitan Knights!¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± I exhaled, feeling the weight of my misjudgment. ¡°My apologies. I¡¯ve had difficult visitors lately.¡± I gestured for him to sit. ¡°In that case, speak.¡± Lestrade took a seat, before opening his notebook. ¡°Alright, where should we begin? Hm¡­ How about this case first?¡± ----- There¡¯s a group of street racing motorcyclists who¡¯ve been disturbing the neighborhood, using public roads as their own personal racetrack and causing noise in the middle of the night. For months, they¡¯ve been a nuisance. But last night, something far worse happened. Two of the racers were killed¡ªbeheaded¡ªright in the middle of a race. The witnesses, including some of the local residents and the third surviving racer, all describe the same thing about the incident. We¡¯d like to believe this was some kind of tragic accident, but there¡¯s no logical explanation for how it happened. ----- I picked up my teacup, taking a slow sip. ¡°Were there any poles at the scene?¡± Lestrade furrowed his brow. ¡°Utility poles, maybe, but they can¡¯t behead someone mid-air. It¡¯s impossible.¡± Oh, Lestrade¡­ such a lack of imagination. If only he had read ¡®The Death of the Headless Riders,¡¯ he¡¯d know this was an ordinary trick in detective stories¡ªsometimes even adaptable for horror films. ¡°What if,¡± I set my cup down, tapping my chin, ¡°someone tied a thin wire¡ªperhaps a metal cable¡ªbetween two poles? The incident took place at night, and with our city¡¯s frequent fog, the visibility must have been low. Did anyone reach the scene immediately after it happened?¡± Lestrade shook his head. ¡°The crime was too terrifying, Lady Hound. The local residents locked themselves inside, waiting for the Patrol Knights to arrive. As for the third racer, he crashed before reaching the others. When he saw his friends¡¯ heads¡­ well, he panicked and fled the scene. He was later arrested. But a thin wire¡ªis that what you¡¯re suggesting could be the murder weapon?¡± ¡°Possibly.¡± I picked up a macaron, taking a bite. ¡°It depends on the material. A metal cable might leave scars if handled carelessly, but with enough momentum¡ªlike the speed of a motorcycle¡ªit could slice through a body as cleanly as a guillotine.¡± ¡°A¡­ guillotine?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I gave him a slow smile. ¡°The head-chopping machine used on the Continent. Very popular among revolutionaries. Headless, painless, and a grand spectacle of terror for their enemies. It¡¯s also quite egalitarian. Whether you''re a commoner, a noble, or even a king¡ªthe guillotine treats everyone equally.¡± ¡°You do realize you are an aristocrat, right?¡± Lestrade gave me a wary look. ¡°Never mind. Forget I asked. Do you have any guesses about who set this thing up?¡± ¡°The gang¡¯s been causing trouble for the neighborhood, haven¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Yes, my Lady,¡± Lestrade nodded. ¡°The locals have had enough of them. Do you think it could be one of the residents?¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I shook my head slightly. ¡°Annoyed residents might complain. But imagine if someone was truly harassed by them¡ªsomeone with no place to escape. That¡¯s a much stronger motive.¡± ¡°You¡¯re suggesting it might be a homeless person¡ªsomeone who had to stay near the streets all the time? There¡¯s one among the witnesses!¡± ¡°High possibility.¡± I gave him an approving nod. ¡°He¡¯s the one who lives closest to the street. If my theory holds, he had the perfect opportunity to set up the trap and take them out. And if you¡¯re wrong, well, he can certainly give you a better explanation than I can.¡± ¡°Very well, my Lady. I¡¯ll have my men check on this person and search for possible weapons.¡± Lestrade straightened his coat, then gave me a hopeful look. ¡°But if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to request your expert consultation for another case.¡± I sighed. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t force me into a romance conversation, I¡¯m fine.¡± ----- The next case was even more bizarre. A man was found hanging upside down in an abandoned warehouse, his body pale as snow. The doctor confirmed that he died from blood loss, yet strangely, there were no visible wounds¡ªonly a small scar, roughly the size of fang marks! People are in a panic!! Some are convinced we are dealing with a vampire! ----- Oh, please, give me a break. I could guess this story¡¯s trick since the first time I ever read ¡®The Night with the Hanging Man.¡¯ ¡°Antithrombotic,¡± I said, leaning back and calmly sipping my tea, feeling quite pleased with myself. ¡°A-antithrombo¡­ what?¡± Lestrade stammered and confused. To be fair, let¡¯s give the poor man some justice: He¡¯s a knight, not a pharmacist, so it¡¯s only natural he wouldn¡¯t know. ¡°Antithrombotic,¡± I repeated, more deliberately. ¡°It¡¯s a substance that prevents blood from clotting. The killer must¡¯ve given it to the victim. When they hung him upside down, his blood drained slowly without coagulating. Through this method, there¡¯s no need to slit the victim¡¯s throat like a chicken. Just a small wound, and the blood will keep flowing, unable to stop.¡± ¡°Ew! That¡¯s¡­really disgusting! Who would do something so horrible!?¡± ¡°A doctor, nurse, pharmacist¡ªanyone with a bit of medical knowledge could pull it off. You should check hospitals, clinics, apothecaries, and maybe even the Medical Campus for anyone with access to antithrombotics. Oh, and you might want to visit the Research Center at the Imperial Zoo too¡­¡± ¡°Wait!?¡± Lestrade was shocked. ¡°You mean to tell me that bats actually drink human blood!?¡± ¡°No! I meant leeches!¡± Couldn¡¯t resist it, I groaned. ¡°They produce an antithrombotic enzyme called ¡®Hirudin.¡¯ Someone could be researching it.¡± ¡°Now, the final case isn¡¯t exactly under the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan Knights,¡± Lestrade admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. My ears perked up. ¡°Not under their jurisdiction? Then why are you bringing it to me?¡± ¡°Because¡­¡± Lestrade straightened, his expression turning more serious. ¡°It¡¯s a special request from His Imperial Majesty, my Lady.¡± ¡°The Emperor?¡± I nearly choked on my tea. ¡°Wait¡ªwhat does he have to do with any of this!?¡± ¡°I heard that your reputation has reached the inner circle of the Imperial Palace. So, when a Diplomatic Incident occurred, His Majesty believed you might have valuable insight.¡± ¡°Whoa, hold on! I may have handled many weird cases before, but a Diplomatic Incident? That¡¯s way too big for me!¡± ¡°No need to worry, Lady Hound,¡± Lestrade tried to assure me. ¡°Whatever conclusions you come to, this has already escalated into a political matter¡ªone that only the people in the government can resolve. However, since the root of this crisis is a ¡®Mysterious Murder,¡¯ His Majesty simply wishes to hear your professional opinion. The Emperor admires your expertise¡ªhe just wants to experience your consulting firsthand, so please, treat him like any other client.¡± Good grace, that¡¯s too easy to say! But, well¡­ ¡°Alright¡­ Uh¡­ I¡¯ll hear it first.¡± Lestrade flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. ¡°This incident didn¡¯t happen here in the Home Continent. It took place in Kalambara.¡± ¡°You say ¡®Kalambara¡¯?¡± ¡°Yes, my Lady. One of our protectorate nations. And given the status of the victim, his violent death during a diplomatic mission has sparked a major crisis.¡± ----- Kalambara? Hm, okay!!! This is gonna be easy, I hope! ----- Let me break it down for you. An Imperial Envoy was traveling through the countryside of Kalambara with his Wife and Butler when they were ambushed by a notorious Bandit. Despite having a retinue of guards, they were no match for him¡ªhe single-handedly wiped them out. The Envoy himself was found dead on days later, after his Wife and Butler managed to escape from the Bandit¡¯s captivity and were rescued by a search party. Now, here¡¯s where things get tricky. The Bandit was captured and brought to trial, but when everyone was asked to recount the details of the incident, their stories didn¡¯t match up. The Bandit spoke first. He arrogantly claimed that he killed the Imperial Envoy in a fair-and-square duel at the request of the Envoy¡¯s Wife. According to him, she was captivated by his ''Charm'' and wanted to be with him instead. Next, the Wife took the stand. Her testimony gave a very different story. She claimed the Bandit had harassed her during their captivity. After finally freeing her husband, she begged him to fight and kill the Bandit to restore her honor. But the Imperial Envoy heartlessly refused. Consumed by grief and rage, she admitted to killing him herself for failing to protect her. Then came Butler''s testimony, which only added to the confusion. He stated that the Imperial Envoy had taken his own life out of shame after seeing his Wife¡¯s affection for the Bandit. The Butler even implied she had willingly given her body to their captor. The Colonial Court of Kalambara ends in complete chaos, with no clue who they should believe. But His Imperial Majesty seems confident that you might have an explanation of this testimony mess! ----- That¡¯s exactly why this story has been named ¡®The Testimonies from Kalambara.¡¯ The entire mess roots from the conflicting testimonies of three people, who had their own reason to lie. ¡°Alright, I get it,¡± I said, leaning back and crossing my arms. ¡°But why the heck is Colonial Court even wasting time trying to figure out which of these stories is true when all three might equally be ¡®Bullsh*t¡¯?¡± ¡°Wait, Lady Hound, are you saying they''re all lying?¡± Lestrade asked, clearly struggling to keep up with me once again. ¡°Technically, I¡¯m in no position to judge that,¡± I replied. ¡°But from what I¡¯m hearing from you, all three testimonies are obviously biased! The Bandit wants to appear as some kind of heroic rogue, the Wife is trying to salvage her own honor, and the Butler¡­ well, he¡¯s likely trying to preserve his dead master¡¯s dignity. They¡¯re all driven by self-interest, and their stories are constructed around that. The Bandit wants to come across as a charming villain, the Wife aims to be seen as a victim-turned-avenger, and the Butler, loyal as ever, would do anything to protect the Envoy¡¯s reputation¡ªeven if it means fabricating a tale of suicide.¡± Lestrade¡¯s eyes widened as he began to follow my reasoning. ¡°So¡­ what should the truth be, then?¡± ¡°The truth?¡± I scoffed. ¡°How the heck am I supposed to know? The crime happened across the ocean, and here I am, stuck with nothing but three biased testimonies from your notebook. I can¡¯t give you ¡®the Truth¡¯ without a proper investigation. But what I can offer is a fictional story that might yield similar results.¡± ----- The Bandit really harassed the Wife during their captivity. Perhaps he even went further, violating her. After days of suffering and humiliation, she finally found an opportunity to free her husband. In her mind, there was only one way to restore her dignity: by having him kill the Bandit. She begged him to fight for her, to prove her worth through a duel. To her shock, the Envoy refused. In his eyes, she was already tarnished¡ªno longer ¡®Worthy¡¯ of risking his life. He didn¡¯t want to duel for her. Naturally, this response devastated the Wife. Her grief quickly turned to rage. In her fury, she lashed out at him, calling him a coward and hurling even worse insults. Backed into a corner by her accusations, the Envoy reluctantly agreed to the duel¡ªone he didn¡¯t want to fight and certainly couldn¡¯t win. Thus, he died¡­ in a pathetic, dishonorable way. His death was so humiliating that his loyal Butler couldn¡¯t bear the truth. That¡¯s why the Butler fabricated the story of suicide¡ªto protect his master¡¯s dignity from the shame of pitiful death. ----- Lestrade sat there in silence, processing everything I had just said before expressing his opinion, ¡°That... is logical! Are you sure this isn¡¯t the real story?¡± ¡°OF COURSE NOT!¡± I exclaimed, my voice rising in pitch. How could I possibly reveal that this version came straight from the story¡¯s ¡®Epilogue¡¯!? ¡°Look, I have no evidence to prove it, alright? Even if you have to tell the Emperor this story, make sure to mention that it¡¯s a fictional version!¡± Lestrade closed his notebook, considering his tasks fulfilled. ¡°Well, my Lady, I believe I¡¯ve taken up enough of your valuable time for now. Please, allow me to take my leave.¡± I felt a wave of relief. Finally, I would have some peace. Sure, all three cases today had been among the simplest, but solving them back-to-back had left me utterly drained. To revive my tired brain, I grabbed three lollipops and popped them into my mouth like a makeshift detective''s pipe. Because, you know, tobacco leaves carcinogens everywhere, so I¡¯d rather prefer ¡®Diabetes,¡¯ which, at least, doesn¡¯t harm anyone else. For a brief, blissful moment, I savored the sugar rush and let my body melt into the armchair, already teetering on the edge of sleep. But then, everything suddenly changed in the wrong way¡­ The shift was instant, like a glass of juice turning into poison. The wind died. The birds fell silent. The garden, once alive with movement and song, became eerily still, as if all living things had sensed a predator¡¯s presence. Even the scent of flowers, once so sweet and rich, turned hollow¡ªfading, as if the very air had grown dry. And then, it came¡­ That suffocating, oppressive ¡®Death Scent.¡¯ The once-warm sunlight now felt distant, weak, like the last glow before dusk would devour the sky. ----- Tap¡­ Tap¡­ Tap¡­ ----- The sound of a polished cane echoed across the unnaturally quiet space, each step measured. ¡°My, my¡­ Even in an elegant dress and such a beautiful place, you still love to indulge in childish candies?¡± That voice¡­ I stiffened. I turned my head, and there he was, standing just a few feet away, as though he''d always been there. ¡®John¡¯ was dressed exactly as he had been the first time we met. But this time, he wasn¡¯t empty-handed. In his arms, he held a bouquet of a hundred roses¡ªthe very gift he had promised to give me another time. The lollipops slipped from my mouth, falling to the floor with a soft thud. I inhaled sharply, preparing to scream, to call for help¡ªfrom anything and anyone. But John''s hand was faster. Before I could even make a sound, he shoved a handkerchief into my mouth, muffling any words I tried to form. ¡°MRPH!?¡± His lips curled into that mocking smile. ¡°My dear Sherlin, that¡¯s very rude! Please, don¡¯t tell me you always behave like this with other guests?¡± Chapter 7 The Case of the Speckled Band (1) Chapter 7 The Case of the Speckled Band (1)
The bitter taste of fabric spread across my tongue, muffling my words into nothing but frustrated groans. My hands were bound behind my back, my wrists burning as the ropes bit deeper into my skin. The more I struggled, the more knots tightened. This was such an indignity! Why¡ªwhy must I endure something like this in my own house? More importantly¡ªwhy him!? Whoever let this bastard in should be fired on the spot! ¡°MRPHHHHHH!!¡± I cursed at him. Sure, my words were unintelligible, but a so-called genius like him should be smart enough to understand exactly how pissed I was! John let out a deep, amused sigh. ¡°Sherlin, my dear, could you please calm down? I came here to discuss a professional matter.¡± ¡°(And what about the gag and rope, you c*cksucker!?)¡± I replied in groaning language. But somehow, he understood. ¡°Oh, these?¡± He gestured lazily toward my restraints. ¡°Precaution.¡± ¡°(Precaution!? Precaution, my foot!)¡± John shook his head, as if I were the unreasonable one. ¡°There¡¯s no one to blame but yourself. You were the one who screamed without listening to me properly. If you promise to behave like a good Demoiselle, I¡¯ll remove the gag.¡± I glared at him, but seeing no way out, I gave a reluctant nod. Satisfied, John reached forward and pulled the handkerchief from my mouth. The moment I could breathe freely again, I took a deep, furious inhale¡ª¡°GUAR¡ª!¡± Before the scream could fully escape, the gag was shoved right back in. John sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. ¡°See? So predictable. And you still expect me not to take precautions?¡± He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. ¡°But really, Sherlin, all this is only going to make your throat sore. I already introduced myself to your parents and explained that their dear daughter might ¡­overreact¡­ upon seeing me. So, considering that you are heavily in debt to me, they agreed that it would be best to ask your attendants to stay away from this garden for a while.¡± ¡°GRRRRRRR¡­¡± ¡°Now, now, my dear Sherlin. There¡¯s no need to growl at me like some caged animal.¡± John sighed dramatically. ¡°Because, like you, I also run a consulting office¡ªbut in a very different field. Recently, I received a troubling commission. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t be so inconvenienced, but it involves matters of investigation, which happens to be your specialty. So, I thought¡ªwhy not outsource it to someone more¡­ qualified?¡± ¡°MRPH¡­?¡± ¡°Oh, come now. Could you be a little more active in our business discussion?¡± He feigned disappointment. ¡°I really need your help, Sherlin. If you refuse, I won¡¯t be the only one in trouble¡ªmy client is in a desperate situation as well.¡± What absurdity! How did he expect a bound woman to negotiate anything? I gave him a frustrating glance, but John was keeping unfazed. He simply stretched and made himself comfortable, sinking into the client¡¯s chair as if this were some kind of psychiatric session. ------ My client is an heiress from a wealthy family. Her name is Helena Stonehenge. Her older sister¡ªand fellow heiress¡ªJulien Stonehedge died under mysterious circumstances in a locked room. No signs of forced entry. No visible injuries. No trace of poison. And yet, somehow¡­ she perished in an unnatural manner. The only clue was the Victim¡¯s dying words: ¡®Speckled Band.¡¯ The doctor who examined the body was utterly baffled¡ªnothing in medical knowledge could explain her death. And now, my client, Helena, fears she will be next. Right now, her mind is in shambles. ------ ¡°So, if you don¡¯t care about my sake, at least consider hers. Besides, you still owe me favor, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°(Wait, did you just say¡­) MUMMPHMPM!?¡± John blinked. ¡°Uh¡­ Are you trying to say something?¡± ¡°(I mean, DID YOU JUST SAY¡­) MUMMPHMPM!?¡± His brow furrowed. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± You know what!? This was a communication disaster! I let out a muffled, exasperated groan. ¡°Alright, alright,¡± John sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll ungag you again. But this time, please¡­ act like a civilized person.¡± The moment the gag was removed, I wasted no time. ¡°I asked you to repeat¡ªwas her last word really ¡®Speckled Band¡¯!?¡± ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t see how this random phrase from a dead person is significant,¡± John said with a shrug. ¡°Well, it is significant! Only a true detective would realize its importance.¡± John raised an eyebrow. ¡°Then¡­ explain.¡± ¡°Explain? Uh¡­¡± oh no, there wasn¡¯t any client as pushy as him before! How was I supposed to explain that ¡®The Speckled Band¡¯ was just a title from ¡®The Adventure of Lady Sherlin Hound¡¯¡ªa story that technically didn¡¯t exist in this world!? The only way to do that was to reveal my reincarnation secret. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Yeah, no way! He¡¯d either think I was completely mad, or perhaps, try to dissect my brain for answers. So, instead, I straightened my back and declared, ¡°No, I won¡¯t explain. It¡¯s a trade secret! But if you follow my instructions to the letter, everything will come to light.¡± John gave me a long, unimpressed stare. ¡°I must say, I really don¡¯t like that answer¡­ but fine. If this is your way of working, I¡¯ll hear you out.¡± ¡°Good! Now, release me.¡± ¡°Nah.¡± I blinked. ¡°Excuse me!?¡± John leaned back, completely unbothered. ¡°You only need your mouth to give instructions, not your hands. So just stay like that until we¡¯re done.¡± ¡°You¡ª! GRRRRRR!¡± John leaned back, smirking as he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. ¡°Now, can you talk? Your mouth is free because it¡¯s still useful¡ªdon¡¯t make me start thinking otherwise.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± I shot him a glare. ¡°If you gag me again, how the hell am I supposed to give you a consultation!?¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± He hummed, tapping a finger against his chin. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯d figure something out.¡± ¡°ENOUGH!¡± I snapped. ¡°I already have a theory in mind, but I can only prove it at the crime scene. That means the only option is for you to bring me to your client¡¯s house.¡± John raised a brow, his smirk widening. ¡°Oh? Bring you to my client? Why do I feel like my credit is about to be stolen?¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°Do you want my help or NOT!? I¡¯M DEAD SERIOUS! Either take me there, or just gag me again, because I won¡¯t tell you a single thing otherwise!¡± For a moment, John simply watched me. Then, with a low chuckle, he reached for his cane, drawing a concealed blade from within and slicing through the ropes binding my wrists. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯ll bring you there,¡± he said, putting the blade back into his cane. ¡°But remember¡ªthis is my commission. I¡¯m the one in control.¡± I rubbed my sore wrists and shot him a sharp look. ¡°No. I don¡¯t trust you with this. If you handle it alone, I worry someone else will die. Until the mystery is solved, I¡¯m the one in control.¡± ¡°Fair enough. Shall we go today? The longer we leave this unsettled, the worse my client will suffer.¡± ¡°Yes, we can go¡­¡± I nodded, before adding, ¡°But first¡ªI need your help acquiring a very specific animal.¡± ¡°Oh? What kind of animal?¡± ¡°A mongoose.¡± ------ Mongooses are not native to the Home Continent. In fact, they are an invasive species that''s supposed to be banned from import and ownership. However, in this era, regulations on exotic creatures are practically nonexistent. Besides, the dominion of the Steam Empire spans a quarter of the world, with each continent holding a portion of land under its rule. It¡¯s a difficult task to enforce strict border controls. For those who know where to look, a mongoose is not impossible to find. As for John, he surprisingly appeared to have a royal connection¡­ He was acquainted with an Eastern Prince residing in Steamburg on a diplomatic mission. In his homeland, mongooses were not only used for pest control but also as a safeguard against assassins who might attempt to slip venomous snakes into royal chambers. Thanks to this connection, the prince graciously allowed us to borrow his trusted companion. And look at him¡ªhe was so cute! ------ ¡°Who''s a good boy? Yes, it¡¯s you, Raja!¡± ------ Inside the carriage, the mongoose chirped, wriggling in my arms as I scratched beneath his chin. He was absurdly energetic, his tiny claws occasionally gripping onto the fabric of my sleeve as he tried to climb higher. Every so often, his little nose twitched, sniffing at my hair before nudging into my collar like he had claimed me as his own. I cooed, running my fingers through his soft, tawny fur. Raja let out an eager ¡®Churr,¡¯ tail flicking in delight as he playfully nibbled at my glove. He was warm, lively, and utterly adorable. It was hard to believe that such a tiny creature was, in fact, a terrestrial, murderous animal! John watched with amusement, one brow slightly raised as he observed my clear fondness for the little creature. ¡°I never expected you to be good with animals.¡± ¡°Why? Do you think I wouldn¡¯t be?¡± I scoffed, lifting my chin. I shifted Raja into my palm, letting him scurry up to my shoulder, where he promptly curled his tail around my neck like a fur collar. ¡°Especially Feliformia¡ªthe ¡®Cat¡¯ carnivores.¡± ¡°So, you like cats?¡± ¡°When compared to other pets? Absolutely.¡± He tilted his head slightly. ¡°Alright, then. When exactly did you adopt a cat?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± Oh, s*ht! It¡¯s my past life! ¡°Uh¡­ uh, I don¡¯t personally own one, but I¡¯ve always admired them. Anything with the grace of a cat¡ªtigers, lions, lynxes, leopards¡ªthey¡¯re the true deadly beauties of the wild.¡± Raja let out a sharp chirp, as if protesting my neglect in mentioning the Mongoosekind. John smirked. ¡°I see. And dogs?¡± ¡°Those needy, dirty creatures? So much energy, so little discipline.¡± Raja, seemingly agreeing with me, flicked his tail dismissively. John chuckled. ¡°If trained well, they¡¯re hardly a problem.¡± ¡°Hm,¡± I narrowed my eyes on him. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ you¡¯re a dog lover?¡± ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to like one.¡± His smirk deepened. ¡°Though, I do wonder if ¡®She¡¯ is more ¡®Cat¡¯ than ¡®Dog¡¯?¡± ------ ¡°Ah, that explains a lot! No wonder we¡¯re so incompatible.¡± ------ The carriage rolled to a smooth stop, the steady clatter of hooves fading into silence. A sharp click sounded from outside as the carriage door was pulled open. John¡¯s butler in a well-fitted coat stood by the entrance. ¡°Young Master, Lady Hound,¡± he bowed slightly. ¡°We have arrived at the destination.¡± John stepped out first, his polished cane tapping lightly against the carriage floor. The moment his feet touched the gravel, he adjusted his top hat with effortless grace, a picture of refined elegance. Then, with a gentleman¡¯s poise, he turned back toward me, extending a gloved hand. I hesitated for a second before accepting it, while Raja held firm on my shoulder as we stepped out together. The air carried a crisp chill, mingling with the scent of damp earth and aged stone¡ªwhat a perfect setting for a murder mystery. Before us loomed Stonehenge Manor, its towering silhouette stark against the overcast sky. It lacked the grandeur of noble estates, but its Gothic architecture¡ªarched windows, ivy-covered walls, and spire-like rooftops¡ªexuded an eerie, brooding presence, as if it held secrets within its ancient stones. Waiting at the entrance was a woman dressed in a modest yet elegant black morning gown. Shadows clung beneath her eyes, her expression composed yet visibly burdened by grief. No doubt the weight of her sister¡¯s sudden death had taken a toll on her, both mentally and physically. The moment she spotted him, John¡¯s client wasted no time closing the distance. ¡°Thank goodness you¡¯ve come! So, have you decided to accept my commission, Mister Mor¡ª¡± ¡°Ahem!¡± John cleared his throat lightly, cutting her off before I could catch his so secretive surname. ¡°My commission will be decided later, Ms. Stonehenge. However, to make a proper evaluation, I¡¯ve brought someone with expertise in investigations.¡± He gestured toward me with a subtle smile. ¡°Allow me to introduce Lady Detective Sherlin Hound.¡± ¡°A¡­ Lady? Detective?¡± Helena¡¯s eyes widened in shock before she quickly leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper. ¡°Sir, is this truly a good idea? Won¡¯t she cause¡­ complications for your work?¡± John smirked. ¡°I was the one who invited her. If anyone can handle her, it¡¯s me. Besides¡­ Ms. Julien¡¯s death is questionable. I won¡¯t let ambiguity cloud my decision.¡± ¡°Very well, if you trust her¡­¡± Helena hesitated for a moment before nodding, though there was still unease in her expression. ¡°But¡­ that man, Rochette, is still here.¡± John laughed, this time out loud. ¡°I see. Then this is the perfect opportunity.¡± Turning toward me, he flashed a mischievous grin. ¡°What do you think, Partner?¡± That is uh¡­ such a nuisance¡­ But, ¡°Well, if that man resided in this house at the time of Ms. Julien¡¯s death, could you please summon him to Ms. Julien¡¯s room? And while you¡¯re at it, inform the local authorities. Once I finish my setup, I will explain everything.¡± Chapter 8 The Case of the Speckled Band (2) Chapter 8 The Case of the Speckled Band (2)
The words ¡®Speckled Band¡¯ could only mean one thing. What else could it refer to, if not ¡®The Case of the Speckled Band¡¯? It wasn¡¯t just another volume in ¡®The Adventures of Lady Sherlin Hound¡¯¡ªit was one of her finest Adventures. Praised by both devoted readers and literary critics alike, the story consistently ranked among the ¡®Top 10¡¯ in polls, sometimes even breaking into the ¡®Top 5.¡¯ Naturally, it became a prime source for media adaptations¡ªwhether in film, radio plays, or television series¡ªremade time and time again. And if anyone ever wished to craft a parody of Sherlin¡¯s Adventures (**Cough**), surely, ¡®The Case of the Speckled Band¡¯ would be the perfect reference to her original story. ------ Alright, if you want to conduct ¡®the Investigation¡¯ by the book, you can just follow Sherlin¡¯s footsteps in ¡®the Original Script,¡¯ letter by letter. Snooping around the scene, collecting evidence, hearing testimonies¡ªthen piecing everything together to form a solid reasoning. You might encounter a few misleading clues along the way, but hey, if you already know the story summary, you shouldn¡¯t so easily get lost. However, for me¡­ that¡¯s a time-consuming process. And if we¡¯re only going to follow what¡¯s already written, then what¡¯s the point of being ¡®Reincarnated¡¯? ------ ¡°Lady, Gentlemen, my name is Lady Sherlin Hound. I came here by invitation of Mister¡­ Uh, well, Mr. ¡®John,¡¯ to solve the mystery of Miss Julien¡¯s death. The center of this puzzle is circulated around the unknown circumstance of her death and this locked room scene¡ªso, I summon you here to find ¡®Murder Weapon¡¯ and how it came inside the room.¡± ------ The air inside Miss Julien¡¯s chamber was thick with unease. Before me, three figures watched with varying expressions. Miss Helena Stonehenge, composed but visibly wary. The local Sheriff, arms crossed, observing in official silence. And of course, John, who was leaning against the fireplace with his usual amused indifference. The fourth figure, however, was far from silent. Dr. Rochette Grinstone, the so-called stepfather of the Stonehenge siblings, wasted no time in cutting me off just after my introduction. ¡°Lady Hound, could you clarify the word ¡®Murder Weapon¡¯?¡± His tone carried the weight of skepticism. ¡°Are you suggesting that there really was a murder in our house? Do you truly believe there¡¯s a ¡®Killer Among Us¡¯? Killer among us? What a poor choice of word! In this volume of ¡®The Adventure of Sherlin Hound¡¯ series, there are three characters who play the role of ¡®Person of Interest.¡¯ First is my client, Helena Stonehenge. Second is her sister, Julien Stonehenge, who was tragically deceased as ¡®the Victim.¡¯ And finally, this gentleman, Dr. Rochette Grinstone, the siblings'' stepfather, a violent man by nature and at risk of losing their mother¡¯s fortune to them. Don¡¯t you find it a bit suspicious that he was the one to raise the idea of ¡®a Killer Among Us¡¯? You see, the number of people was too low to initiate the game of ¡®Killer Among Us.¡¯ So, Come on, he just cast the spotlight on himself! From what I can imagine, there are only a few directions the plot could take for a real twist. Perhaps Julien faked her death? Or maybe John¡¯s client, Helena, turns out to be the true murderer? But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve already checked the clues. The story isn¡¯t deviating too far from the one I read. You won¡¯t see that kind of ¡®Plot Twist¡¯ happening in this chapter¡ªyet! ¡°Yes, this is Murder, Dr. Grinstone!¡± I declared, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere of Miss Julien¡¯s room. ¡°So, first, let¡¯s start with the most basic question¡ªwhat is the true cause of Miss Julien¡¯s death? But before I give you the answer, let me emphasize my role here: I¡¯m a Detective Consultant, not a forensic pathologist. I can¡¯t offer you another autopsy report. What I offer is a theory.¡± ¡°Theory? Are you joking?¡± Dr. Grinstone scoffed. ¡°No offense, but an autopsy report comes from a real forensic scientist¡ªsomeone with diplomas, laboratory equipment, and years of training. Are you seriously suggesting that the theory of some Lady¡ªI mean, Detective¡ªis more reliable?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t expect my presumption to be more reliable than the autopsy, Dr. Grinstone,¡± I replied calmly. ¡°But I do expect it to explain why no apparent cause of death was found.¡± Dr. Grinstone¡¯s skepticism deepened as he narrowed his eyes. ¡°Alright then, what¡¯s your explanation? What killed her?¡± ¡°From the manner of her death,¡± I said, meeting his gaze, ¡°it was clearly Toxication.¡± ¡°Impossible!¡± Dr. Grinstone snapped. ¡°The autopsy confirmed there was no trace of poison. How can you still claim Toxication?¡± ¡°Oh,¡± I said, raising an eyebrow, ¡°who said anything about poison, Dr. Grinstone? It wasn¡¯t poison that toxicated Miss Julien¡ªit was Venom.¡± ----- Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, In case you¡¯re not quite familiar with the difference between ¡®Poison¡¯ and ¡®Venom,¡¯ allow me to welcome you to my ¡®Reincarnated Detective Training Program.¡¯ Today¡¯s topic? Involving with ¡®Toxicology,¡¯ of course! But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not about to bore you with some lecture from a pharmacy campus, or make you flip through pages of a sleepy textbook. Let¡¯s stick to the basics¡ªthe kind of stuff you¡¯ve probably seen on a nature documentary channel. First things first, let¡¯s define our terms. I¡¯m using medical definitions here because, in my opinion, they¡¯re the least chaotic way to explain this two types of toxins. Poison is passively delivered¡ªyou get poisoned by ingesting or absorbing the toxin through your skin, lungs, or stomach. Venom, however, is actively¡ªand sometimes, aggressively¡ªdelivered to the victim. It¡¯s a weaponized toxin, injected to the body. Still, in case someone has this question to ask me: Injecting someone with a lethal dose or forcefully putting toxins into someone¡¯s mouth doesn¡¯t make you venomous¡ªit just makes you a criminal. To be truly ¡®Venomous,¡¯ you need biological tools like fangs or stingers. And if you can do that¡­ well, you''re not human anymore. Alright, now for the tricky part: Why wouldn¡¯t venom show up in an autopsy? Well, this gets a little complicated. But if you remember anything from high school biology about ¡®Enzymes,¡¯ you¡¯re already ahead of most people in this era, where folks mostly don¡¯t even know enzymes exist! ------ ¡°When compared to poison, which is a simple substance, venom is a much more complex mixture of enzymes,¡± I explained, addressing the room with measured confidence. Dr. Grinstone, Helena, John, and the local Sheriff listened intently, though the good doctor¡¯s expression hinted at skepticism. ¡°And just like the enzymes in our bodies, venom becomes unstable once it¡¯s outside its source. Our current technology makes it difficult to extract, preserve, or even detect it¡ªespecially since we don¡¯t fully understand it yet. But as a knowledgeable zoologist, Dr. Grinstone, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re familiar with this concept, right?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s quite the enlightenment, Lady Hound,¡± Dr. Grinstone clapped his hands, feigning praise, though his mocking chuckle made it hard for me to take him seriously. ¡°What? Besides being a Detective Consultant, do you hold a doctorate too? Fine, you¡¯re correct about venom, but what¡¯s the point of all this? If even forensic laboratories lack the resources to detect venom, then how do you expect to prove anything by this?¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ----- Look, I believe I don¡¯t need a PhD to explain ¡®Venom¡¯ and ¡®Enzyme.¡¯ You know, in OUR world, ¡®Science¡¯ is a part of compulsory education¡ªYou cannot legally escape from it! ----- Still, ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I admitted. ¡°I believe we cannot definitively prove the presence of venom. Even if we could find a method, it¡¯s too late to trace it in Miss Julien¡¯s body now. However, the source of the venom is something my investigative partner should be returning with at any moment.¡± Speaking of my little devil¡­ As if on cue, the rumbling sound of something rough moving through the ventilation system interrupted the conversation. An eerie hissing sound echoed through the room, causing everyone to turn toward the nearby vent. The noise grew louder, sharper, followed by a sudden movement that sent a chill through the air. ¡°GOOD GODDESS! IT¡¯S A SNAKE!¡± the Sheriff exclaimed, stumbling back a step. Miss Helena let out a piercing scream. The only ones who remained calm were Dr. Grinstone, John and me, as we were both prepared for this sight. ----- Yes, the Speckled Band was a snake! And it wasn¡¯t just any random snake, but a deadly venomous one. ----- ¡°My Ladies, stay behind me!¡± the Sheriff commanded with instinct, dragging Helena and me behind him. I must confess, though, it wasn¡¯t exactly necessary. Despite its aggressive hissing¡ªan unmistakable warning to anyone who dared approach¡ªthe snake¡¯s movements had lost their once-deadly grace. It must have been severely wounded before it emerged from the vent, leaving a trail of fresh blood marking its path. The creature¡¯s hiss was more desperate than threatening, its energy nearly spent. Suddenly, from the same ventilation grate, my true cavalry, Raja arrived. He followed his prey with focus and, like a bolt of lightning, pounced. In a single, swift bite to the snake¡¯s neck, Raja delivered the final blow, ending the threat once and for all. The room fell into a silence, broken only by Miss Helena''s quiet sobbing and the nervous breaths of the Sherliff. Dr. Grinstone¡¯s eyes narrowed as he watched me, his face impassive. I wondered if there was any trace of regret for the creature he had sent to do his dirty work, but like any criminal mastermind whose assassin had been caught or killed, he was unwilling to accept responsibility. ¡°So,¡± his voice was calm but icy, ¡°you¡¯re telling me this snake killed my stepdaughter? If that¡¯s the case, Lady Hound, you can no longer call this a murder.¡± I met his gaze with a calmness that matched his. ¡°Dr. Grinstone, while we may not be able to interrogate the dead snake, we still have its body. And once it¡¯s identified by an expert, they¡¯ll confirm what I already suspect: this snake is not native to our Home Continent. It comes from the tropical colonies, likely from the far eastern reaches of the Empire¡ªthe same region you¡¯re known to have visited. A dangerous animal like this wouldn¡¯t just happen to show up at a well-kept estate like yours. This is no coincidence, Doctor.¡± I took a step closer, watching his reaction carefully, before pressing on by delivering the ultimatum. ¡°This is your opportunity to confess. Admit your role in this, and maybe the court will show you some leniency. But if you refuse, I will request a full inspection of your quarters. It seems the most likely source of where this creature was kept.¡± Dr. Grinstone let out a long, controlled breath, his eyes darting briefly between the dead snake and the Sherliff. He raised his hands in a gesture of submission, though his voice remained as cold as ever. ¡°Very well, my lady. There is no need for an inspection.¡± He gave me a thin, humorless smile. ¡°I¡¯ll admit it¡ªI am guilty... but not of murder.¡± My eyes widened. ¡°Wait, what!?¡± He stood a little taller, as if his partial confession could somehow reduce his culpability. ¡°That creature¡ªthe snake¡ªit belongs to me. I¡¯ve been using it for research. I have the permit to prove it. But my only crime is negligence. It escaped on the day my poor stepdaughter died. Everything that followed was an unfortunate accident. A terrible one, yes, but an accident nonetheless.¡± ¡°Accident?¡± My voice cracked with anger. ¡°You bastard! Miss Julien¡¯s death was no accident! You set this all up, and if I hadn¡¯t exposed it, Miss Helena would¡¯ve been your next victim!¡± Grinstone¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he scoffed. ¡°Helena, too? That¡¯s mere speculation, Lady Hound. You have no evidence to back up such an outrageous claim.¡± ¡°Grrrr¡­ You, bastard!¡± My blood boiled. ¡°Why can¡¯t I just let you DIE?!¡± Dr. Grinstone¡¯s eyes flashed with sudden alarm, his tone shifting. ¡°Die? Oh, Lady Hound, it¡¯s gone too far! How dare you threaten me!¡± Oh, no! That is not gone too far! Following ¡®the Original Script¡¯ of ¡®the Case of the Speckled Band¡¯ is end with Grinstone¡¯s death! ----- Oh, no! It¡¯s not gone too far! Following the ¡®Original Script¡¯ of ¡®The Case of the Speckled Band,¡¯ the end must be Dr. Grinstone¡¯s death! In this climactic act of the story, Sherlin Hound set up a trap to foil Dr. Grinstone¡¯s plan by swapping bedrooms with Helena. With the assistance of the trained mongoose, similar to Raja, Sherlin waited for the snake to slither into her room. Knowing the harm it could cause, it frightened it, sending it crawling straight back toward its master. In a panic, the snake bit its own owner. To most people, this would be unarguably poetic justice. But for me, who knowing the consequences all too well, following the script would only make me commit ¡®Voluntary Manslaughter.¡¯ No one might blame me for his tragic end, but I know myself¡ªI couldn¡¯t make up my mind to intentionally kill someone. And yet, URGH!!! It seemed that my well intentions had now been cheekily exploited! ----- ¡°Lady Hound, please stop!¡± After passively listening for a long time, the Sheriff finally broke his silence. His voice rose, attempting to diffuse the confrontation. ¡°As a local officer, I am deeply grateful for your efforts in solving the mystery of Miss Julien¡¯s death. However, accusing someone of murder without solid evidence is beyond the boundaries of law, and you are now overcome by emotion!¡± ¡°But, sir¡ª¡± I began, my voice trembling with frustration. ¡°Yes, Sherlin, the Sheriff is right,¡± John''s commanding tone sliced through my words. ¡°Your theories have been invaluable, but they clearly are not enough to prove murder.¡± ¡°But, John!¡± I protested, only for him to raise his hand, cutting me off. ¡°No¡ª¡®But¡¯¡ªSherlin. You are angry, and everything you say will only make this worse. Besides, we already agreed that you will handle everything until the mystery is solved. Now, everything comes to light, let me continue!¡± ¡°URGH!!!¡± I groaned out but, like he told me, this was nothing I could do more. ¡°And you, Dr. Grinstone,¡± He turned to Dr. Grinstone, his expression growing colder. ¡°Even if we accept your argument that this was not murder, negligence leading to death is no small matter. Do you agree?¡± Dr. Grinstone stiffened, his smug demeanor faltering briefly before he nodded. ¡°Yes... I suppose that is true.¡± ¡°Good. Then I suggest you surrender yourself to the Sheriff. You will explain everything to the local authorities. I trust you will comply without resistance.¡± Dr. Grinstone¡¯s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. ¡°Very well. I surrender myself to the Sheriff. There is no need for force, I will cooperate.¡± As the Sheriff stepped forward to escort him away, Dr. Grinstone turned back to me, his devilish smirk returning with full force. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lady Hound. Next time, I will be far more discreet. I assure you, there will be no mistakes.¡± My brain reached a boiling point! Leading to the snapping of my restraint! Without a second thought, I lunged at him, fury propelling my every move. In that moment, I didn¡¯t know what I truly intended¡ªbut the overwhelming force of my body had already acted on its own. ¡°Stop, Sherlin!¡± John¡¯s sharp voice rang out as his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me firmly in place. ¡°Let me go!¡± I screamed, struggling against his grip with all my strength. But his unyielding hold would not be broken. Helplessly, I watched as the Sheriff escorted Dr. Grinstone away, disappearing from view. Only then did John¡¯s grip loosen, and my rage began to fade. But let me confess: it wasn¡¯t because I¡¯d calmed down; it was because I just had surrendered. ¡°Alright,¡± John said quietly, his voice steady. ¡°I¡¯ll let you go now. But promise me you won¡¯t do anything foolish.¡± I didn¡¯t answer, yet somehow, John still released me. Perhaps he assumed my silence meant agreement. But no¡ªbefore he could stop me again, I bolted. Even as John shouted, ¡°SHERLIN, STOP!¡±¡ªI didn¡¯t stop. ----- ¡°Whatever you think you¡¯re doing, don¡¯t open that carriage door!¡± ----- Knowing he couldn¡¯t catch me in time, John resorted to warning me. His voice carried an urgency I couldn¡¯t ignore¡ªhowever I did anyway. Something about his words felt important, but not enough to slow my pace as my hand reached the door¡¯s handle. It wasn¡¯t locked, so I opened it. Dr. Grinstone had only entered a few minutes earlier, but the sight inside froze me in place. ¡°He¡ªHel¡ª¡± Dr. Grinstone was slumped in the corner, his pale face and shallow breaths revealing the extent of his suffering. His entire body was paralyzed, muscles locked in unnatural stillness, and his ability to speak¡ªor breathe¡ªwas failing rapidly. This was unmistakably the work of ¡®Neurotoxin¡¯¡ªthe same kind that killed Miss Julien in the book. But this time, the culprit wasn¡¯t a snake. It was a spider. The creature still crawled across Dr. Grinstone¡¯s deathly still face, its spindly legs creeping closer to his hollowed eyes. ¡°Sherlin, step back. Now.¡± John commanded me, but before I could obey, the spider had already leapt toward me. In a split second of life and death, John lunged forward with a jar in hand, and captured the arachnid midair. Its frantic movements were now contained within the glass, its tiny body slamming against its transparent prison walls. ¡°That was too close,¡± he exhaled, a trace of relief escaping with his words. Yet when his gaze fell on Dr. Grinstone¡¯s crumpling form, a small, knowing smirk twisted his lips. ¡°John, you know something, don¡¯t you?¡± My voice broke the heavy silence. He chuckled lightly, the sound tinged with amusement. ¡°That¡¯s mere speculation, Lady Hound,¡± he replied, quoting Dr. Grinstone¡¯s earlier words with cold precision. ¡°You have no evidence to back up such an outrageous claim.¡± That smirk. That infuriating smirk. I clenched my fists, my heart pounding in my ears. Enough of the half-truths. ¡°Who are you exactly?¡± I demanded, my voice cutting through the dimly lit space between us. ¡°If you don¡¯t tell me honestly, we won¡¯t see each other again.¡± John remained still for a long moment, his piercing gaze locked onto mine. The weight of his silence pressed down on me, as if he were measuring my resolve. And then, knowing I was dead serious¡ªhe answered. ¡°I am ¡®John¡¯¡ªabandoned on the street at birth, raised by the orphan.¡± His voice was calm, but something flickered in his eyes¡ªsomething buried deep. ¡°And, like my orphan ¡®Mother¡¯ before me, I have no real surname.¡± I held my breath, waiting. There was more. ¡°But,¡± he continued, his lips curving ever so slightly into that knowing smirk of his, ¡°if you ask me for what I use in legal documents and official introductions¡ªit¡¯s ¡®Moriaty¡¯¡ªJohn Moriaty.¡± Chapter 9 Interlude Chapter 9 Interlude
After Dr. Grinstone was declared dead by the Sheriff, the Constabulary Knights were summoned to make a full investigation. With their help, we conducted a full inspection of his quarters. What we uncovered was a menagerie of venomous creatures¡ªa lot more than just the snake he had already used in his schemes. The discovery led them to assume that the spider, like the snake, must have come from Grinstone''s own collection. Despite the oddity of its presence, the lack of evidence pointing to tampering or external interference led the investigators to a straightforward conclusion: the Doctor had simply tasted his own medicine. ------ As for the truth? I don¡¯t want to talk about this sh*t! ------ ¡°Look at that restaurant!¡± John suddenly said, tapping the window. After we had returned Raja to his owner, the atmosphere in the carriage had turned so awkwardly silent that even the sound of the wheels felt deafening. Well, at least for me. Because for ¡®John Moriaty,¡¯ that jerk didn¡¯t even try to shut the f*ck up. ¡°The line is always long,¡± he continued cheerfully. ¡°You¡¯d need a reservation weeks in advance. But if you¡¯re interested, I can get us in through the back entrance. I know the owner¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t dare refuse me.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Alright, what about shopping?¡± His voice remained light, but his smile wavered ever so slightly. ¡°You helped me handle my commission¡ªanything you want, it¡¯s on me.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Hey, please stop brooding,¡± He exhaled in frustration. ¡°I can take you anywhere you like, as long as it makes you happy. Just¡­ say something.¡± If that¡¯s really what he wanted to know, then fine. ¡°Home.¡± John sighed, leaning back against the seat. His expression darkened. ¡°Sherlin, I understand that you¡¯re angry about my methods. But if your righteous way is truly correct, then tell me¡ªwhy does your culprit keep slipping through your fingers? Is this the justice you seek for the victim? And what if he strikes again? What if next time, he succeeds?¡± His eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unwavering. Even though I pretended to watch the world outside, I could still see him through the reflection in the window. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be neglect on your part?¡± ¡°Stop it,¡± I said flatly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear your excuses.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not an excuse,¡± he countered. ¡°It¡¯s a justification. I won¡¯t regret my decision to cleanse this world of demons.¡± A bitter chuckle escaped me. ¡°Have you ever heard the saying? If one fights evil with evil, the world will always have one more evil to deal with. And even if that evil manages to cleanse all others, there will still be one final evil left standing.¡± I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at him any further. That was when John moved. Stealthy as a shadow, he switched seats in an instant, slipping from across me to right beside me. The only warning he allowed me was the faintest vibration against the seat. Only then did I turn¡ªHe was close. Too close. His face was inches from mine. His breath, warm against my skin. ¡°If that one evil left standing is me¡ªthen don¡¯t worry.¡± A slow, amused smirk played on his lips. ¡°If that¡¯s what you desire¡­ I¡¯ll cleanse myself away too.¡± ------ My breath was nearly stolen away, and my heart pounded heavier with each moment of this intimacy. His deep blue hair gleamed under the dim carriage light, his features sculpted to perfection¡ªan artist¡¯s masterpiece given life. But if you ask for my inside¡­ It felt like a dark creature had been unleashed straight from hell, sent to feast on my very soul. My warmth and my living energy was being siphoned away, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell, filled only with nightmare and suffering. ------ ¡°Lady Hound, we arrived at the gate of your ma¡ª¡± ------ Before John¡¯s butler could even finish, I shoved John away, scrambling to get out. ¡°Thank you, Mister. Careful on the road.¡± I leaped out of the carriage the moment the door swung open, my boots striking the cobblestone with a force that echoed through the silent night. I didn¡¯t look back. I didn¡¯t spare John a single glance. The grand doors of Hound Manor loomed ahead, and I rushed inside, not bothering with pleasantries or parting words. The warmth of home enveloped me¡ªgolden chandeliers, polished marble, the ever-familiar scent of tea. Yet, inside me, I felt nothing but cold. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Welcome home, my Little Lady,¡± Hudson greeted me as always, her voice calm and unreadable. ¡°I trust your evening was¡ª¡± ¡°ARGHHHHHH!!!!¡± A guttural scream tore from my throat, echoing through the manor. The response was immediate. ¡°Sherlin! What happened?¡± My mother¡¯s frantic voice rang out as she rushed down the hallway, her nightgown billowing behind her. My father followed at a steady pace, his gaze unreadable as always. I turned to him, my hands clenched into fists. ¡°FATHER! DO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS!?¡± He arched his brow. ¡°I don¡¯t know him personally, but I see him for what he is¡ªsomething fishy.¡± ¡°THEN WHY DID YOU LET HIM INTO OUR HOUSE IN THE FIRST PLACE!?¡± I demanded. His reply was maddeningly composed. ¡°He saved you when you were in trouble, Sherlin. Considering the nature of him, a man like that shouldn¡¯t leave his obligations unpaid for too long.¡± My breath hitched. My voice cracked. ¡°But I just helped him¡­ kill a man.¡± ¡°Helped him?¡± He crossed his arms, studying me. ¡°That seems exaggerated. Please clarify.¡± ¡°He killed the man¡­¡± I swallowed. ¡°The one I identified as the murderer.¡± A flicker of understanding crossed his face. ¡°So, he acted only after you confirmed the man¡¯s guilt?¡± My father mused. ¡°In my opinion, that¡¯s more ethical than most hired killers. And tell me, was the man¡¯s punishment undeserved? Was he about to escape justice?¡± ¡°Yes, but¡­ you¡¯re missing the point¡ªhe still killed a man!¡± I snapped. My father exhaled, almost amused. ¡°Sherlin, I¡¯ve also killed people, some even with my own hands. Your mother has killed far more in her career. Does that make us bad people?¡± ¡°Well, yes! But at least you served official organizations! And more importantly, you¡¯re retired!¡± He shook his head slightly, his gaze steady. ¡°I can still kill, if needed. And I imagine your mother would gladly go on a rampage for old times¡¯ sake, should the opportunity arise.¡± ¡°URGH!!!¡± My frustration boiled over. ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­ why are you sympathizing with that human-skinned demon!?¡± He let out a quiet chuckle. ¡°Sherlin, he¡¯s practically who we were when we were young. How could I not understand him?¡± ¡°ARGHHHHH!!!¡± I couldn¡¯t restrain myself from screaming. My own voice rang in my ears, yet it did nothing to ease the turmoil within me. With a frustrated stomp, I marched straight to my bedroom, ignoring my parents'' concerned gazes. The door shut behind me with a dull thud, muffling the world outside. But I felt no relief. I wanted to rid myself of ¡®the Death Scent¡¯ that clung to me¡ªthick, suffocating, inescapable. Without hesitation, I strode toward the bath chamber, reaching for the silk ribbon that held my dress together. The layers of fabric peeled away, one by one, pooling at my feet in a careless heap. The moment my corset hit the floor, I inhaled deeply, as if I had been freed from an invisible noose. A gentle knock interrupted my thoughts. ¡°My Little Lady, may I come in?¡± ¡°¡­¡± My answer was silent, yet Hudson entered anyway, carrying herbal shampoo and perfumed soap. As I sank into the water, her hands worked through my hair, scrubbing gently, the scent of lavender filling the air. But no matter how much she washed me, I still felt that Moriaty¡¯s presence lingered. ¡°Can the man who you only met twice really leave you with such a terrible experience?¡± ¡°Come on, Ma¡¯am. He¡¯s not the first person to leave a bad impression at first sight.¡± ¡°True. But nobody else has made you scream like a madwoman upon returning home.¡± ------ Yes, she¡¯s right¡­ No one¡ªnot a single villain or scoundrel¡ªhas ever unnerved ¡®Sherlin Hound¡¯ like ¡®Moriaty.¡¯ Among every media adaptation, he has always been the greatest nemesis¡ªthe mortal enemy whose conflict with the detective would only end in the death of one side. If Sherlin is the ¡®Napoleon of Law,¡¯ then he is the ¡®Wellington of Crime.¡¯ If she is Hannibal, then he will be Scipio, the one destined to oppose her at every turn. And if she dares to crown herself as the mighty Queen Arthuria, then he will rise as Mordred, the blade fated to shatter her empire. Their rivalry is nearly constant in all universes. Moriaty¡¯s life purpose has always been the same¡ªto make the Detective Protagonist suffer as possible. So, I have no reason to believe John is any different. ------ ¡°If I say ¡®Yes,¡¯ Ma¡¯am?¡± I asked Hudson with a desperate voice. ¡°What should I do!? How should I get away from that creepy jerk!?¡± Hudson continued massaging the herbal shampoo into my scalp, her fingers steady despite my outburst. ¡°I have an idea, but knowing your personality, I doubt you¡¯ll like it.¡± ¡°Just say it! Whatever it is, spit it out!¡± ¡°Marriage, my Little Lady. Even if it¡¯s a bit early for you, a betrothal could do the trick. There¡¯s no better shield against men¡ªthan another man himself.¡± ------ Huh? This topic again!? Even though I¡¯ve accepted the fact that marriage is an inevitable matter for a noblewoman, I still can¡¯t help but feel frustrated whenever it¡¯s brought up. But if I think about it rationally¡­ marriage isn¡¯t just a pure trouble. If used wisely, it could be a valuable tool. The idea I got from ¡®Romance Manhwa¡¯ might seem completely out of place in a detective story, sure. But if other reincarnated protagonists chose this method and successfully secured their happy endings¡ªthen why shouldn¡¯t I give it a try? It¡¯s called ¡®Contractual Marriage¡¯¡ªone of the most classic plot devices in romance novels! Female leads use it to escape unwanted engagements, silence nagging aristocrats, or even secure their position in dire circumstances. But my situation? It¡¯s far more dangerous than any of theirs. No matter their reason for forging such a contract, none of those heroines were being chased by ¡®Moriaty¡¯¡ªa man who isn¡¯t just some delusional suitor or noble a**holes. He¡¯s a criminal mastermind with deadly intelligence, a mind that could only be matched by the brilliance of the original ¡®Lady Sherlin Hound.¡¯ So tell me¡ªhow the heck am I, the dumbed-down version of her, supposed to survive against a man like that alone!? ------ ¡°Hudson, is it¡­¡± I bit my lip, staring at the reflection in front of me. ¡°...really possible to choose a suitor on my own?¡± ¡°Your parents are open-minded, My Little Lady,¡± she said, her hands never faltering in their work. ¡°They trust you to handle this matter yourself. In fact, it¡¯s the reason you¡¯ve never been dragged into any arranged dates or forced engagements. You¡¯re free to decide for yourself.¡± ¡°So, what should I do?¡± I frowned, feeling uncertainty. ¡°I mean, where do I even begin?¡± ¡°There are two ways you can proceed, my Little Lady. First, you could ask your father to open up suitor applications and wait. The daughter of a prominent Duke like you will certainly have a long line of suitors. In fact, many have already sent proposals to the manor before, but you¡¯ve always complained about it, so they get rejected on their own. The second option is, if you¡¯re more impatient, I¡¯d recommend trying the services of the ¡®Matchmaking Guild.¡¯¡± ¡°The Matchmaking Guild?¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°What on bloody earth is that?¡± ¡°Well, according to their official description, they claim to be a prestigious and highly reputable organization specializing in supporting people in forming personal unions. Their goal is to help build beautiful and healthy relationships within society,¡± Hudson explained. ¡°But, if you ask me, it¡¯s more like a place for youngsters to do blind dating on their own¡ªwith plenty of facilities.¡± So, it¡¯s like Steamburg¡¯s version of dating apps, I see. ¡°But what about its trustworthiness in terms of privacy and security?¡± I raised my concern. ¡°Oh, such complicated things were never on my mind,¡± Hudson spoke nonchalantly. ¡°I¡¯ve only known that it¡¯s very fun.¡± Chapter 10 Matchmaking Mystery Chapter 10 Matchmaking Mystery
The gentle hum of conversation intertwined with the distant melody of a string quartet, creating a lighthearted yet elegant atmosphere. Laughter and whispered exchanges filled the air as couples-in-the-making engaged in carefree courtship, unfazed by the curious glances of onlookers. Unlike the stiff, business-like formalities of aristocratic marriage meetings held in grand manor halls, the Matchmaking Guild embraced a far more inviting approach¡ªone that encouraged natural interactions without the weight of rigid expectations. This place was designed for those who rejected the traditional process, for men and women who sought the freedom to find their own partners at their own pace. It was a space free from family negotiations and political maneuvering, where personal choice reigned over duty. While aristocrats, who¡¯re still bound by the old customs, rarely stepped foot inside, the Guild was far from lacking in high-profile clients. The wealthy bourgeoisie, learned intellectuals, and even esteemed servicemen were among those who sought companionship on their own terms. ------ ¡°Guest Number 48, this is your cue.¡± ------ I glanced at the number on my ticket before rising from my seat. Just as I approached the receptionist¡¯s desk, preparing to be led to my appointment, a new voice intercepted. ¡°Are you Lady Sherlin Hound?¡± I turned to find a refined-looking woman standing before me, her sharp gaze assessing me with a polite, knowing smile. Unlike the receptionists, whose uniforms were simple, her attire held an air of authority¡ªsignifying her higher position within the establishment. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°My name is Belle Marigold¡ªI am the Guildmaster here. Would you mind following me to my office?¡± ¡°Huh!? Did I do something wrong? Don¡¯t tell me aristocrats are banned here!¡± Marigold chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°Of course not. How could we possibly turn away customers with such generous pockets? I simply wish to handle your paperwork personally. No need to worry.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Alright then.¡± I gave a small nod. ¡°Please lead the way.¡± Inside the Guildmaster¡¯s office, Marigold gestured for me to take a seat before settling comfortably behind her polished mahogany desk. The room was tastefully decorated¡ªnot overly extravagant, but refined, much like the woman herself. She folded her hands together and leaned forward slightly. ¡°So, you¡¯re interested in finding a partner?¡± ¡°Well, yes. That¡¯s exactly why I came to the Matchmaking Guild.¡± ¡°But what kind of partner do you desire?¡± I paused for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure¡­ someone intelligent, brave, and dependable, perhaps?¡± Marigold let out a soft hum, tilting her head. ¡°No, I think my question was a bit too vague. What I mean to ask is¡ªwhat exactly is your purpose in finding a partner?¡± I blinked. ¡°Wait¡­ what do you mean?¡± ¡°Noble ladies are rare customers of ours,¡± Marigold continued. ¡°And they often have unique preferences. These clients usually come through the recommendation of our inner circle.¡± ¡°You say¡­ inner circle?¡± I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Yes, in your case, isn¡¯t it obvious? It¡¯s our ¡®VVIP¡¯ client, Madam Hudson.¡± ¡°Hudson is VVIP!? What on earth are people doing here!?¡± ¡°There are many specific purposes, my Lady. Some come to find a part-time escort for a single ball, others hire a rental husband for a short period, or simply seek someone who shares the same level of sin. As for Madam Hudson, she¡¯s not only a regular customer¡ªshe¡¯s practically a prime commodity for our Guild. Many male clients have a special ¡®Governess-fetish¡¯ like her, and she has no problem making multiple relationships at once.¡± Oh, that¡¯s interesting¡­ But, ¡°What do you mean multiple relationships!?¡± Marigold nodded with a knowing look. ¡°Multiple relationships mean multiple relationships, Lady Hound. She might not have told you before, but Madam Hudson enjoys the variety.¡± Marigold leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. ¡°Now, Lady Hound, what exactly are you looking for?¡± ¡°Listen,¡± I signed. ¡°I have no intention of getting involved in something so¡­ weird. But if your organization is so special, can you help me find someone who could serve as an ¡®Investigative Partner,¡¯ while posing as my suitor? I am ready to pay that person if I must.¡± ¡°Investigative¡­ Partner?¡± Marigold looked genuinely intrigued. ¡°That¡¯s a new request. But with an additional fee, I can assure you there¡¯s nothing we can¡¯t do.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t a problem,¡± I reached into my pocket and pressed 50 gold coins onto the table, sliding them toward her. ¡°This is upfront. I¡¯ll pay more, including expenses for using the facility here.¡± Marigold¡¯s lips curled into a small, approving smile as she eyed the money. ¡°You truly are a woman of business, Lady Hound. Very well. Here are the terms of service and guidelines for you to study, and this is the registration form¡ªplease fill in your personal information while I make the necessary arrangements.¡± I unfolded the stack of papers and began skimming, starting with the terms of service. By entering into this agreement and utilizing the services provided by the Matchmaking Guild, the client must agree to adhere to all policies and guidelines... blah, blah, blah¡­ The Guild is committed to facilitating discreet, respectful, and personalized matchmaking services tailored to your needs¡­ blah, blah¡­ You know what? This was too boring. Let¡¯s just skip to the real practical guidelines. ------ The first section covered the Registration Process. Obviously, just filling out paperwork¡ªexactly what I was doing at that moment. The form required personal details and preferences, but it also asked me to create a pseudonym for my public profile. The second section explained the Matching Process. Once my profile was posted on the board, potential matches could express interest. If both parties showed mutual interest, the Guild would act as an intermediary to arrange an appointment. Personal details wouldn¡¯t be revealed until both sides consented¡ªonly stated preferences would be visible to tune compatibility. Then came the third section, the Blind Confession. Before progressing to a formal meeting, the Guild encouraged an anonymous conversation¡ªa trial round, so to speak. This would take place in the Confession Booth, which, judging from the illustration, looked exactly like an actual church confessional, where sinners spill their darkest secrets! Finally, the last section was called the Nurturing Process. But honestly, from what I read, it felt more like an advertisement for the Guild¡¯s premium services and exclusive facilities... ------ ¡°Lady Hound, have you finished your form?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, setting down the quill. ¡°By the way, how long does it usually take for your clients to receive a response?¡± ¡°For most cases, it takes days, perhaps even weeks. But for you, my Lady, it was instant!¡± ¡°Hm!? Instant!?¡± My brow arched in suspicion. ¡°Yes, my Lady! The moment I mentioned someone was looking for an ¡®Investigative Partner,¡¯ one of our VVIP clients became immediately interested. He found the idea... quite fun!¡± ¡®Fun.¡¯ That word again. Let¡¯s hope it wasn¡¯t the same fun Hudson used on last night. ¡°Well,¡± I crossed my arms, ¡°can you tell me anything about him?¡± ¡°I can provide you with his profile, my Lady, but beyond that, I am bound by the Guild¡¯s policy.¡± ¡°Hey, aren¡¯t you the Guildmaster?¡± I frowned. ¡°And I already paid you 50 gold coins¡ªI¡¯m even willing to pay more! Surely, that should warrant a little... giveaway?¡± Marigold smiled but remained unfazed. ¡°No, my Lady. Because I am the Guildmaster, I must uphold the policy. However, I can tell you this¡ªhe is intelligent, brave, and dependable. Exactly the specifications you provided.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. She dragged me outside the office before gesturing toward the confession booth. ¡°Trust me. When you step inside, you¡¯ll have the chance to interview him yourself.¡± I took a deep breath and walked into the curtain. The interior was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from an ornate brass lantern hanging overhead. A cushioned seat awaited me, separated by a wooden lattice screen. The other side of the booth was silent, but I could sense someone¡¯s presence¡ªwaiting. Well, time to see who this ¡®Intelligent, Brave, and Dependable¡¯ candidate was. ------ ¡°You are Lady Malus?¡± the man behind the other side of the lattice inquired. ¡°And you must be Sir Calculus?¡± I replied, sitting on my seat. ¡°Yes, I am that person. Now, tell me, my Lady, are you a sinner? Do you have anything to confess?¡± I let out a soft chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s very funny, Sir Calculus. Tell me, sir, are priests even allowed to join matchmaking?¡± ¡°If one doesn¡¯t tell anyone he is a priest, then it might be possible.¡± ¡°I see,¡± I mused, tapping my fingers against the chair¡¯s armrest. ¡°But judging from your pseudonym and profile, you seem more like a mathematician than a clergyman.¡± ¡°Not quite, Lady Malus. I am not yet qualified for that title. I still study at the Imperial Academy and haven¡¯t obtained my certification¡ªbut I use my knowledge to make money through part-time work.¡± ¡°Part-time work while studying? You must be quite diligent.¡± ¡°What choice do I have, my Lady? Education requires money, and I wasn¡¯t born with a silver spoon. Still, diligence is not my core value¡­ What I believe in is intelligence. I have no desire to work myself to the bone and get nowhere.¡± ¡°A practical mindset.¡± I nodded. ¡°But is that why you responded to my request for an ¡®Investigative Partner¡¯? Do you need additional income?¡± ¡°Oh, not at all! As I said, I value intelligence more than diligence, so my part-time work provides passive income. You could say I¡¯m an investor. My mathematical knowledge helps me predict financial trends, and all I need to do is collect my profits. I don¡¯t prefer active work¡ªunless I want to.¡± ¡°Then, sir, what do you expect to gain from becoming my ¡®Investigative Partner,¡¯ if not money?¡± ¡°Must I have a reason beyond simply seeking fun?¡± ¡°Perhaps a thirst for challenge, a sense of duty¡­ or maybe, if you¡¯ve lost something precious to crime, even vengeance?¡± ¡°A thirst for challenge¡­ perhaps. But isn¡¯t that just another way to describe ¡®Fun¡¯? As for duty, absolutely not.¡± He paused. ¡°And vengeance? Can a person truly take revenge against crime itself?¡± I arched my brow. ¡°Why did you say that?¡± ¡°Crime is not an entity, Lady Malus. You cannot stab it in the heart or throw it behind bars. So, tell me, how does one take revenge against the crime?¡± ¡°Well,¡± I mused, ¡°I once read the story of a masked hero¡ªa wealthy young man who lost his parents to a common mugger. That one random act stole his childhood away. But instead of wallowing in grief, he dedicated his life to training, reaching the peak of human ability. He invested his fortune into gadgets, all for one purpose¡ªto become a fearsome knight who could stop and avenge the crime that took his family.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an impressive backstory for a fictional hero,¡± Sir Calculus admitted. ¡°But let¡¯s consider this logically. Just because a single mugger kills his parents, he responds by beating down every criminal he finds? If such a man existed in real life, wouldn¡¯t he simply be a man with anger issues?¡± ¡°Fair point. But at least he doesn¡¯t kill.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no action scene without injury,¡± he countered smoothly. ¡°So even if he doesn¡¯t kill, how severely did he beat others down just because they happened to be muggers?¡± ¡°Oh, uh, about that¡­¡± I hesitated. Now, thinking about it, the protagonist had really left plenty of criminals with fractured ribs, broken bones, and head trauma. ¡°Okay, maybe he¡¯s a little excessive. But he does have character development! Over time, he learns to control himself¡ªeven sympathizes with some villains who have their own justifications. Eventually, he realizes he doesn¡¯t truly seek vengeance¡ªhe seeks justice. That¡¯s the moment he transitions from a vigilante to a true hero.¡± ¡°Sympathizing with villains?¡± he mused. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s appropriate for an investigator?¡± ¡°Yes, before being a decent detective, one must be human, first.¡± ¡°But Lady Malus, true Lady Justice must be blind¡ªabsolutely impartial, with no tolerance for any evil.¡± ¡°With ethics that strict, life must be hard for her,¡± I said lightly. ¡°But fortunately, I am not Lady Justice.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re fine if your ¡®Investigative Partner¡¯ is a ¡®Bad Person¡¯?¡± ¡°Sir Calculus, it seems you¡¯re the one who should be making a confession!¡± I chuckled. ¡°But yes, I¡¯m fine with ¡®Badness¡¯¡ªas long as it stays within my acceptable range.¡± ¡°I see. But how would you study my ¡®Badness¡¯?¡± ¡°Sir Calculus, could you please clarify?¡± ¡°¡®Badness¡¯ is like a hideous scar concealed beneath fine fabric. It¡¯s impossible to reveal in a mere blind conversation.¡± ¡°Then let me treat you like a book.¡± ¡°A book?¡± ¡°I won¡¯t judge you by your cover, I¡¯ll read it. At least, the synopsis first.¡± ¡°Hm¡­¡± He let out a thoughtful hum. ¡°It seems you¡¯re willing to accept me as your ¡®Investigative Partner.¡¯¡± ¡°Hold on, sir. This whole conversation feels like a free-trial. I must admit, you¡¯ve made me curious. So, I¡¯d like to give you a chance¡ªif you agree to meet me face-to-face.¡± ¡°Lady Malus, you speak as if you hold the upper hand in this deal,¡± he remarked. ¡°But did you not notice? This lattice has two layers separating us¡ªone controlled by me, the other by you. If I pull the switch but you don¡¯t, your lattice will remain closed. The same applies if you pull yours while I do not. To reveal our faces, we must both agree. That means I¡¯m not the only one who must prove myself¡ªyou must as well.¡± ¡°That seems fair. But what more do you want?¡± ¡°A few more words¡ªthrough my own little interview. Answer honestly.¡± ¡°Very well, ask away.¡± I leaned back in my seat. ¡°Between coffee and tea, what do you prefer?¡± ¡°Tea,¡± I answered easily. ¡°But if you¡¯re asking about my best caffeine source¡ªchocolate.¡± ¡°What is your favorite pet?¡± Obviously, ¡°Cats!¡± ¡°What activity do you enjoy most?¡± ¡°Well¡­ books.¡± If I still had games, anime, and films as options, I might¡¯ve chosen one of those. ¡°Hm. How odd for a detective not to choose puzzles.¡± ¡°Eh?¡± I blinked. ¡°What did you say?¡± ¡°Oh, nothing. Please Ignore that,¡± he said quickly. ¡°You¡¯re a woman, but can you read and write?¡± ¡°Excuse me? How could I enjoy books if I couldn¡¯t read and write?¡± ¡°Between reading and writing, which do you prefer?¡± ¡°Writing.¡± ¡°Wait, writing?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve written a few novels.¡± Surprised? Allow me to explain: the novel trends in this world are different from where I come from. So how else could I get the stories I want, if not by writing them myself? ¡°What kind of novels, may I ask?¡± ¡°Mostly romance and fantasy.¡± ¡°I see. You must have a deep passion for books.¡± He paused before asking, ¡°Then tell me¡ªif life were a novel, what role would you play? The protagonist or the villain?¡± ¡°The damsel.¡± ¡°...Why!?¡± ¡°Because the villain is obviously bad,¡± I grinned. ¡°And the protagonist carries too much responsibility. If I were the damsel, then if anything went wrong, it wouldn¡¯t be my fault. My only job would be to forgive the villain and not blame the protagonist. That sounds like the ideal role in life¡ªto do nothing at all.¡± ¡°That is¡­ a unique perspective,¡± he admitted. ¡°But isn¡¯t a detective supposed to have the spirit of a protagonist?¡± I exhaled, the humor fading slightly. ¡°You¡¯re right. And that¡¯s what troubles me.¡± ¡°Troubles you? How so?¡± ¡°Honestly? I don¡¯t want to be the protagonist. But let¡¯s just say¡­ I have a blessing. One that¡¯s hard to ignore. If I could find another protagonist to transfer it to, I¡¯d gladly do so.¡± ¡°Even if that reduces you to a mere helpless damsel?¡± ¡°Is that wrong?¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s very, very wrong,¡± he answered firmly. ¡°Because in reality, a person like that is easy to exploit. They get locked in towers, auctioned like cattle, or even discarded when they¡¯re no longer useful.¡± ¡°But if this world is really a story like you say, then I can rely on the Protagonist. It¡¯s his duty to protect his Damsel!¡± ¡°Are you sure? I might not spend time reading novels like you, but I¡¯ve heard that Protagonists have a ¡®Righteous Trend.¡¯ They¡¯re always ready to sacrifice everything for the greater good! Do you really think they¡¯re reliable enough not to sacrifice you?¡± ¡°Well then,¡± I mused, ¡°should I seek help from a villain?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say villains are bad?¡± ¡°Perhaps. But some villains can become heroes¡­ if they have the right damsel.¡± ¡°Sorry, that sounds too much like fantasy. That might work in a novel, but from what I¡¯ve heard about your trouble, you need something more practical. How about a ¡®Secondary Protagonist¡¯? Someone who might not carry the same blessing, but still carries responsibility.¡± ¡°So¡­ are you suggesting yourself to be my ¡®Secondary Protagonist,¡¯ hm?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that your purpose when you walked into this confession booth?¡± ¡°Does this mean I¡¯ve proven myself? That I¡¯m worth your interest?¡± ¡°Want to know the answer? Why don¡¯t you try to pull the switch?¡± I hesitated for a moment, my fingers hovering over the cold metal lever. Then, taking a slow breath, I pulled. Click¡­ The lattice shifted, its iron framework groaning. But then, I realized¡ªonly my side was moving. The other lattice had already been open from the start. That could only mean one thing: I was the only one who hadn¡¯t pulled the switch. ------ ¡°Y¡ªYou!¡± ------ A presence, thick and suffocating, seeped into the air like a silent storm rolling in. The temperature plummeted, the warmth around me bleeding away. Even the single lamplight flickered, struggling to stay alight as shadows stretched unnaturally. The Death Scent flooded the narrow space. It was overwhelming, pressing in from all sides¡ªa silent, oppressive force that clung to the very air I breathed. ¡®Sir Calculus¡¯ is John! He was the one I had been speaking with all along! ¡°Oh, Sherlin, what a surprise to see you here!¡± That jerk greeted me with a grin. ¡°What a twist of fate, bringing us together in such a place.¡± Chapter 11 Even Death Don’t Let Them Apart (1) Chapter 11 Even Death Don¡¯t Let Them Apart (1)
¡°Hey, Sherlin¡­ wait!¡± As soon as the ¡®Blind Confession¡¯ ended, I started leaving. John rushed to grab my right arm, but I reacted quickly¡ªslapping his face with my free hand. The sound was loud enough to draw a few surprised gasps from the onlookers. SMACK! ¡°This is for bugging me every single time we meet!¡± Frustration that had been building up over the day finally exploded. I grumbled under my breath as the crowd leaned in, eager to see what would come next. SMACK! ¡°This is for tying me up that day. You have no idea how much that makes me MAD!¡± Hearing, the crowd gasped even louder. SMACK! ¡°And this¡ªthis is for tricking me into taking part in your mur¡ªMRPH!!!¡± Before I could finish the word ¡®Murder Plot,¡¯ John¡¯s hand shot up to cover my mouth. ¡°Sherlin, I must ask you to refrain from ranting further,¡± he whispered, his voice low, eyes narrowing dangerously. ¡°Revealing that story would surely jeopardize my position in society and force me to disappear from it. But, I assure you, if I have to be a missing person, I¡¯ll make sure you are missing with me.¡± His tone shifted, even colder now, as he leaned in closer. ¡°So, calm down, and talk civilized, will you?¡± John¡¯s hand loosened, allowing me the ability to speak again. When I could finally talk, I did what seemed the most civilized thing an angry person could do. ------ ¡°Ms. Marigold! I¡¯m leaving!¡± ------ ¡°L¡ªLady Hound, you cannot do that! According to the rules, the couple who makes a ¡®Blind Confession¡¯ must schedule a date for at least two hours.¡± ¡°And what if I refuse? Do I need to pay a penalty fee or something?¡± I asked, crossing my arms. ¡°Well, yes¡­¡± the guildmaster answered. ¡°Great! Just send me the bill later!¡± I huffed. Whatever the cost, it would be a cheap price for my sanity! However, ¡°My Lady, you don¡¯t understand the situation!¡± Marigold interjected, looking distressed. ¡°A penalty fee is a payment to the partner.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s the problem?¡± I frowned to the question. Marigold hesitated, her gaze flickering toward John. ¡°Mr. Moriarty¡­ isn¡¯t the type to accept money.¡± I turned to John, who simply smiled. ¡°Ms. Marigold, that¡¯s enough,¡± John interrupted smoothly. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t inconvenience Lady Hound further. She is, after all, your customer. If you wish to address the real issue here, perhaps you should evaluate your service first. However, if there¡¯s a fundamental flaw in your ¡®Matching System¡¯ that negatively affects customer satisfaction, I may have to reconsider our business partnership.¡± Marigold¡¯s face went pale. ¡°Mr. Moriarty! Please, don¡¯t do this!¡± ¡°Hey, you jerk!¡± I snapped. ¡°Are you seriously holding people¡¯s business hostage just to get what you want?¡± ¡°It¡¯s my investment, so it¡¯s my liberty,¡± John shrugged. ¡°Fine!¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°How much of the shares do you own? I¡¯ll buy them myself!¡± Marigold¡¯s jaw dropped in shock. Even John blinked, clearly caught off guard. ¡°Hold on a second¡ªwhat do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± I glared at him. ¡°How much of the shares do you have? I¡¯ll buy them.¡± John let out an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head as if I had personally wounded him. ¡°What is this, Sherlin? Do you really hate me that much?¡± ------ Look at him¡ªhe¡¯s ¡®Moriaty¡¯! The archetype of a criminal mastermind. The epitome of villainy! If you¡¯ve ever read a detective novel, you don¡¯t even need context¡ªjust hearing his name alone is enough to set off alarms. ¡®Narcissistic.¡¯ ¡®Manipulative.¡¯ ¡®Menacing.¡¯ ¡®Obsessive.¡¯ ¡®Completely devoid of moral restraint.¡¯ And if a man like this were the protagonist of a romance novel? Oh, he¡¯d be the walking ¡®Red Flag¡¯¡ªthe kind of Male Lead who forces some twisted, non-consensual romance onto the Female Lead. Maybe he¡¯d make her his captive, keeping her locked away just long enough to incubate ¡®Stockholm Syndrome.¡¯ I am not playing Shakespeare¡¯s ¡®The Taming of the Shrew.¡¯* So¡ªf*ck him! (*Runny Note: For those unfamiliar, ¡®The Taming of the Shrew¡¯ is one of William Shakespeare¡¯s works, categorized as a Comedy. But, it¡¯s understandable if it¡¯s not really funny to somebody, since it¡¯s quite controversial. Because the story is about a domineering man who ¡®Tames¡¯ his strong-willed wife into submission. You could say it¡¯s the Renaissance ¡®Toxic Relationship¡¯ romance comedy.) ------ ¡°Yes, I hate you, you jerk!¡± ------ John exhaled sharply, his usual teasing demeanor faltering. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you despise me to this extent, but shouldn¡¯t you at least follow your own wisdoms to not judge a book by its cover?¡± ¡°Oh, about that?¡± I shot back, remaining unfazed. ¡°I¡¯m treating you like this because I¡¯ve already read your synopsis, prologue, and first chapters. And let me tell you¡ªit¡¯s way too disturbing to keep reading!¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± his eyes darkened, his usual amusement draining away. ¡°So, it¡¯s because I¡¯m a ¡®Villain¡¯ to you.¡± ¡°Of course!¡± His gaze bore into mine, unreadable now. ¡°Then¡­ don¡¯t you think that you should at least try to redeem me first?¡± For the first time in this argument, I froze. This was different. It wasn¡¯t the usual witty banter, nor was it his playful, calculated manipulation. For the first time, there was something genuine beneath his words, and it was ¡®Resentment.¡¯ Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. I could not immediately retort. Should I apologize? Double down? Pretend I didn¡¯t hear it? But before I could decide¡ªA bloodcurdling scream tore through the air. ------ ¡°MURDER! There is murder!¡± ------ ¡°JOHN!!!¡± I screamed at his face. ¡°...What?¡± he asked, clearly confused. ¡°What have you done!?¡± ¡°Wait¡ªwhat?!¡± John recoiled, clearly caught off guard. ¡°We don¡¯t even know anything yet, and you¡¯re already accusing me?!¡± I pointed a finger at him. ¡°You are the most suspicious person in my eyes!¡± ¡°What on bloody earth¡ª?¡± For a brief moment, he looked genuinely offended, but then, as if switching gears, that insufferable devilish smirk returned. ¡°Hey! I was right there with you the entire time in that booth!¡± As much as I hated to admit it, he had an airtight alibi. And, unfortunately, that alibi was me. ¡°URGH!!! Let¡¯s see what¡¯s going on,¡± I snapped, stomping forward. ¡°Oh? A sudden change of heart? Don¡¯t you hate me anymore?¡± ¡°WILL YOU COME OR NOT!?¡± I spun around and shot him a glare. ------ ¡°Staff, please close the Guild until further notice, and keep the customers contained until the authorities arrive. Call the Guildmaster and contact the authorities. In case you worry that alerting them might lead to a scandal, notify the close associates of Chief Inspector Henry Lestrade. They know how to discreetly handle the situation.¡± The woman¡¯s voice was authoritative and organized, much like the way she managed things at Bakerstead. ------ ¡°Wait, is that... Hudson?¡± I murmured, a bit caught off guard when I spotted her. ¡°Oh, my Little Lady! How¡¯s the service today?¡± Hudson greeted me at the door with her usual cool smile. Her eyes quickly flicked over to John, who had followed me in. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is this gentleman the one you¡ª¡± But she paused mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as recognition hit her. ¡°Wait¡­ isn¡¯t this man the reason that you¡¯re finding ¡®an Investigative Partner,¡¯ who can pose as a suitor?¡± ¡°What does she mean, I¡¯m the reason?¡± John jumped in, trying to join the conversation. ¡°Ahem!¡± I immediately interrupted him, cutting him off before he could dig deeper. ¡°Uh, hey, what exactly are you doing here?¡± Hudson glanced at me, raising an eyebrow before responding. ¡°If you''re asking why I¡¯m here... Well, I came for the services, of course. My Little Lady is heading out elsewhere, so I asked the Duke for a day off. But, as for what I¡¯m doing here¡­¡± She paused, her gaze briefly shifting to the scene behind her. ¡°I¡¯m helping my dating partner organize the staff to respond to the situation.¡± ¡°Wait a minute... Dating partner?¡± I blinked. Is this one of the people with a weird ¡®Governess-fetish¡¯ that Marigold mentioned? ¡°Madam Hudson, is everything alright?¡± a deep voice called from inside. ¡°Yes, Henry, everything¡¯s under control. Ms. Marigold is here,¡± Hudson assured, her tone as calm as ever. Then, with a small smirk, she added, ¡°and you¡¯re in luck¡ªyou have some extra assistance here.¡± Henry? Who is this Henry? ¡°What do you mean?¡± the man replied, his footsteps hurriedly approaching. ¡°Wait, let me see for myself!¡± The moment he stepped into view, my eyes widened. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s Chief Inspector Henry Lestrade (the older and the father),¡± I muttered, recognizing him immediately. But then, something hit me. Wait¡­ WAIT!!! ¡°He is your dating partner!?¡± I blurted out, unable to hold back my shock. ¡°Huh¡ªLady Hound!?¡± Lestrade visibly recoiled as if he had just seen a ghost. ¡°What are you doing here!?¡± ¡°Oh, no! Don¡¯t you dare turn this on me! The real question here is¡ªhow is a married man and father, like you, one of those ¡®Governess-fetish¡¯ people?!¡± ¡°M¡ªMy Lady, what¡¯s wrong with that!?¡± Lestrade sputtered, turning red. ¡°Gregory¡¯s mother has been dead for many years! I am not owned by anybody anymore!¡± My brain short-circuited. That wasn¡¯t a denial. What he replied was asking me back, ¡®What¡¯s wrong with that?¡¯ What the hell happened to people here!? ¡°My dear Sherlin, shouldn¡¯t you concentrate on the urgent situation?¡± John amusingly interjected. Lestrade, still flustered, turned his attention to John. ¡°Who is this gentleman, Lady Hound?¡± I crossed my arms, saying. ¡°He¡¯s a jerk.¡± John, ever the opportunist, smirked. ¡°A jerk who she willingly made a ¡®Blind Confession.¡¯¡± I shot him a glare. ¡°My dear John, shouldn¡¯t YOU concentrate on the urgent situation!?¡± I threw his own words right back at him. ¡°Alright, what can you tell ¡®Us,¡¯ Chief Inspector?¡± John asked a question. Lestrade let out a long sigh, rubbing his temple, preparing a long speech. ------ The Crime Scene is this private dining area. The crime scene is this private dining area. It¡¯s divided into five rooms, each designed strictly for two people¡ªand reservations are only accepted for couples. At the time of the crime, only two rooms were occupied¡ªmine and Hudson¡¯s, and the victims¡¯. So, there were only four people here total, aside from the staff. The first sign of trouble came from two waitresses on their way to serve our table. They saw a woman stumble out of that room, clutching her stomach. Her steps were unsteady, her face pale and drenched in sweat. She staggered forward as if trying to call for help¡ªbut after only a few seconds, she collapsed to the ground. One of the waitresses panicked and screamed, which is how we realized something was wrong. Hudson immediately took control of the situation, directing the staff to maintain order, while I rushed to the woman¡¯s side. By the time I reached her, she was already in severe distress¡ªit¡¯s already too late to save. ------ John, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. ¡°This private dining area is only available to couples, correct?¡± Lestrade nodded. John tilted his head. ¡°Then where¡¯s her partner?¡± ¡°Oh, him?¡± Lestrade exhaled sharply before leading us inside the area. ¡°He¡¯s still inside the room. But he¡¯s dead too.¡± Hudson remained at the door, continuing to handle the situation with Marigold. The hallway stretched before me. The elegantly dressed woman¡ªthe first victim¡ªwas slumped against the wall, just a few meters from the room she had left. She hadn¡¯t made it far. Her body lay still, her face twisted in pain. In her hand¡­ ¡°Lestrade, may I?¡± I knelt down, asking the Chief Inspector. ¡°I see, that might be important, but could you wait until¡ª¡± Lestrade''s words were cut short as he suddenly shouted: ¡°MISTER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?¡± ¡°John, stop!¡± I snapped, but it was already too late. He had pried the paper from her cold grip. ¡°Oh, sorry. I saw your interest in this paper, so I helped.¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you!?¡± I shot back. ¡°You¡¯re tampering with evidence!¡± John gave me an unimpressed glance. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just ask the Chief Inspector if you could do the exact same thing?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the point¡ªI asked for his permission!¡± ¡°Then, should I put it back?¡± ¡°Yes! Exactly! And make sure it¡¯s the same¡ªevery fold, every finger position!¡± ¡°Understood,¡± he replied, completely unbothered, before casually adding, ¡°But since I already pried it out, don¡¯t you want to see it first?¡± ¡°URGH!!! Just check what it is!¡± I groaned. John unfolded the paper and skimmed over it. ¡°A marriage certificate.¡± The ink was fresh¡ªnot just signed today, but very recently signed. I exhaled sharply and turned toward the doorway. ¡°Hudson, my dear Madam, if you¡¯re with Ms. Marigold, tell her to pull up the records of two clients¡ªGenevieve Leclair and Cornelius Aldenworth. I want both profiles and their service history.¡± Then, I looked back at the scene before me. ¡°Even standing at the edge of death, she still clutched the marriage certificate so hard? I wonder what she thought?¡± John mused. My gaze followed his words, landing on the gentleman slumped at the dining table, his mouth foaming, frozen in his final moments. "Did she intend to take it to her husband in the Afterlife?" A newlywed couple, dead at the same time. Their cause of death was clearly poison. But, uh¡­ and then what? ¡°This isn¡¯t good,¡± I murmured under my breath. John must have noticed something in my reaction because he smirked. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Lady Detective? Is your blessing failing you today?¡± ¡°In a manner of speaking¡­ yes. My blessing won¡¯t work today.¡± This mystery was fresh to me. It might never have existed before, or perhaps, I had just simply never read it. John mockingly chuckled. ¡°Oh? And what will you do? Surrender?¡± ¡°Of course not,¡± I scoffed. At least, not in front of him. ------ Investigation is just like taking an exam. If every question had a pre-memorized answer, it would be easy. But sometimes, professors are stern as hell. They won¡¯t just hand out grades for regurgitating the textbook. Exams should be ¡®Analytical Testing,¡¯ they said. The ability to ¡®Problem-Solve¡¯ and ¡®Apply Knowledge¡¯ must be evaluated. With my previous normal brain, even remembering straightforward answers was already hard enough, so don¡¯t expect me to have ever excelled at those infernal trick questions. While I agree that these values made modern education more efficient, I must admit that they also turned my past academic life into an absolute nightmare. But now¡­ I no longer have that normal brain. ------ ¡°There are two different concentrated substances appearing on the body of each victim,¡± I said, taking a slow breath to steady myself. John furrowed his brows. ¡°Two?¡± I nodded. ¡°Each substance must be the cause of their deaths.¡± His eyes gleamed with amusement. ¡°Oh? And how exactly do you know that?¡± I hesitated for just a moment before meeting his gaze. ¡°I have a sense¡­¡± Chapter 12 Even Death Don’t Let Them Apart (2) Chapter 12 Even Death Don¡¯t Let Them Apart (2)
According to the information from The Adventure of Lady Sherlin Hound Fandom wiki, Sherlin possesses four special functions within her brain¡ªones that seem to be innate, even supernatural. Her supreme ability is ¡®The Power of Deduction¡¯¡ªa brilliant talent that allows her to piece together facts and uncover hidden truths. But it wouldn¡¯t be a true power if it weren¡¯t extraordinary. The original Sherlin had the ability to construct a Mind Palace¡ªa mental space where she could build a 4D investigative board, mapping out connections and reconstructing past events with stunning clarity, as if watching a theater of the mind. I, however, am not that Sherlin. I lack the intelligence to wield this detective¡¯s Ultimate Skill, and even if I did possess it, I doubt my ¡®Stupid Self¡¯ would ever harness it. And yet, living in her body, I have inherited the other three basic skills¡ªones that do not require genius but are still effective in their own right. The first of these three skills is ¡®Photographic Memory¡¯¡ªa gift that allows me to recall everything I¡¯ve seen, down to the smallest detail, like what a picture did. And, after the information recorded in the vast mental archive, that depended on me to search for the right piece of information at the right time. The second is ¡®Enhanced Cognition¡¯¡ªa function that accelerates my thought process, allowing me to analyze vast amounts of information in mere seconds. When activated, this ability buys me extra time to think in urgent situations, even making the world appear in slow motion for a few seconds when necessary. And finally, the third: ¡®Hypersensitive Perception¡¯¡ªa heightened awareness that amplifies all my senses beyond that of an average person. In investigations, it¡¯s a gift that helps me catch the smallest clues others overlook. At a ballroom, it means I can eavesdrop on whispered gossip from across the room. Sounds like an amazing gift, doesn¡¯t it? But beware¡ªit comes with significant drawbacks. A heightened perception means I¡¯m sensitive to everything¡ªpleasant and unpleasant alike. Trust me, an ear-piercing sound, a noxious smell, or unappetizing food can easily ruin your day¡ªand of course, pain, another form of sensation. That, too, is amplified by your heightened sense. ------ ¡°What do you mean by ¡®Sense,¡¯ Sherlin?¡± he asked, tilting his head slightly. ¡°Are you suggesting that you have supernatural powers in perceiving things?¡± I narrowed my eyes on him. ¡°And if I say ¡®Yes,¡¯ do you have a problem with that?¡± John¡¯s lips curved into a smirk. ¡°Oh, in that case, can I borrow you to find a missing item? By just sniffing the scent, you should be able to trace whatever I¡¯m looking for, right?¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°Even if I could do that¡ªTHAT JOKE IS NOT FUNNY!!!¡± His smirk faltered for a split second. ¡°Wait, you can really do that?¡± I refused to answer. Silence, after all, was often more effective than engaging in his nonsense. John, taking my lack of response as confirmation, simply hummed in amusement before returning to the topic at hand. He gestured toward the corpse. ¡°Alright, then. Please tell me¡ªwhat exactly is this concentrated substance?¡± I crossed my arms. ¡°How should I know? We need to run a forensic test.¡± ¡°A forensic test?¡± John sighed, shaking his head. ¡°That would take too long. Can¡¯t your ¡®Sherlin¡¯s Super Sense¡¯ help identify it?¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t a chef¡¯s ¡®Taste Challenge,¡¯ John. I might be able to see traces of something, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m about to lick or sniff whatever that is!¡± ¡°So, Sherlin¡¯s Super Sense has its limits¡ªand those limits are overcome by my non-supernatural ability.¡± ¡°Oh? So you can do it? Please, enlighten me¡­¡± John chuckled at my sarcasm, but instead of a retort, he casually accepted the challenge. ------ Let¡¯s begin with the gentleman. He was slumped in his chair, his body still, his mouth foaming¡ªno signs of struggle. Given how quickly he succumbed, it¡¯s safe to assume he died almost instantly, or at the very least, so quickly that he had no chance to resist. That means the poison used on him must have had a rapid onset, something that shut down his respiratory system before he even had time to react. But for me, the flag of this poison is ¡®Bitter Almond¡¯¡ªI don¡¯t need to lick or sniff, the ¡®Cyanide''s¡¯ scent is distinct enough to notice. Now, turn to the lady. She met something far nastier. Unlike her newly-wed husband, she had time to react¡ªshe even managed to stagger toward the door before collapsing. That alone tells us her poison was delayed-acting, giving her a few moments before death took her. Now, observe closely. No foaming at the mouth. Lips turned bluish-purple. Trembling hands clutching the marriage certificate. Fingernails slightly darkened. All of these point to systemic failure¡ªtwo poisons fit this profile: Arsenic and Ricin. But if I had to bet, I¡¯d place my wager on ¡®Ricin.¡¯ ------ ¡°You speak so smoothly about poisons, almost like you¡¯re an apothecary,¡± I remarked dryly. John smirked and leaned in just enough to whisper in a conspiratorial tone. ¡°Well, actually, let me tell you a secret¡­¡± His voice dropped lower, just for my ears. ¡°As a consultant, I must advise my clients on the proper use of these substances.¡± ¡°Ah, yes, how could I forget?¡± I scoffed. ¡°You are an expert at doing bad.¡± John chuckled but didn¡¯t deny it. I shifted my gaze back to the corpses. ¡°By the way, can your expertise help you notice something else? Look carefully¡ªboth of them have traces of poison not only in their bodies but also on their pockets.¡± I paused, gauging his reaction. ¡°And here¡¯s the odd part¡ªthe substances are swapped from what was found on the body. The poison that killed the gentleman left traces on the lady¡¯s pocket, and the poison that killed the lady left stains on the gentleman¡¯s.¡± John¡¯s expression flickered, his amusement giving way to brief surprise. That wasn¡¯t something I saw often. ¡°Pockets? Swapped?¡± he echoed, as if even he hadn¡¯t expected that. ¡°And there¡¯s more,¡± I continued. ¡°The containers are still here. Even though they appear empty, I can sense traces of their contents.¡± John straightened, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scene. ¡°If the containers are still at the crime scene, and it¡¯s unlikely that anyone else entered after their deaths¡­ then¡ªis it possible this was a ¡®Murder-Suicide¡¯?¡± ¡°If that¡¯s your theory, then there¡¯s an inconsistency,¡± I tapped my chin. ¡°If one of them had planned a ¡®Murder-suicide,¡¯ why would they use different poisons? Even the idea of a typical murder by a third party doesn¡¯t make sense for the same reason.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± John¡¯s smirk returned, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the puzzle. ¡°Then, do you have an explanation?¡± ¡°I have one, but it¡¯s need valid motive¡± ¡°My Little Lady.¡± Hudson¡¯s familiar voice cut in from the entrance of the private dining room, her composed presence a stark contrast to the crime scene¡¯s grim atmosphere. She stepped forward with a slight bow. ¡°Ms. Marigold has brought the document you requested. I asked her to remain outside, as I believe this scene would be¡­ unpleasant for her.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said, glancing toward the door. ¡°Ask her to wait. I have a few questions for her myself.¡± ------ Marigold stepped forward, clutching a stack of neatly bound documents. ¡°Lady Hound, these are the profiles and personal information of Ms. Leclair and Mr. Aldenworth, as you requested, but¡­¡± She hesitated as I moved around her, like a predator circling its prey. Her grip on the papers tightened. ¡°Eh? What¡¯s happened, Lady Hound? Why do you need to interrogate me?¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°My apologies if this makes you uncomfortable,¡± I took the documents from her but didn¡¯t bother flipping through them. Instead, I set them on a nearby table with little interest, my gaze fixed on her instead. ¡°But I believe an interview is often the most efficient way to obtain information. As the guildmaster, you likely have valuable insights into this situation¡ªso please, cooperate with me.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± Marigold replied, yet still hesitated. ¡°Tell me¡ªdo you know the possible reason for them to get killed?¡± I paused for a beat, then tilted my head. ¡°Or, perhaps, is there any possibility for what reason they would have to kill each other?¡± John raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hm? What makes you think that?¡± ¡°John, think about it¡ªtwo people, both poisoned. But if someone intended to murder them both, why bother using two different poisons? That¡¯s not typical behavior for a killer who chooses poison as their weapon.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re suggesting these were two separate acts of murder?¡± ¡°And I suspect that they were each other¡¯s murderer,¡± I nodded. ¡°Interesting theory, but if that¡¯s the case, what reason would they have to approach their potential killer so willingly?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. But, there are many possibilities¡ªvengeance, passion, greed... or maybe, just stupidity.¡± John let out a quiet chuckle. ¡°My dear Sherlin, don¡¯t tell me¡ªyou got this idea from a novel again?¡± ------ Tsk¡­ What a smart jerk! But yes, of course, it came from novels. In my previous life, I had read plenty of stories built on the theme of Mutual Destruction Tragedy¡ªMacbeth, Hamlet, Game of Thrones. Every one of them followed the same cycle: characters so determined to destroy their enemy that they ended up suffering a loss so great it was sometimes worse than death. And, oh, let¡¯s not forget Sherlin¡¯s Final Problem. If we followed the original script, Moriarty had summoned Sherlin to settle their rivalry once and for all. Through his perfect calculations, he was certain she had no chance of defeating him¡ªhe had accounted for everything, every possible outcome of their battle. But Moriarty, ever the self-obsessed scumbag, had never understood the concept of ¡®Sacrifice.¡¯ So, when Sherlin realized she couldn¡¯t win, she did something he never expected¡ªshe threw herself at him, dragging them both into the abyss. ------ ¡°Anyway, this is a Matchmaking Guild. Those two murderers wouldn¡¯t have met if they hadn¡¯t been matched,¡± I said, my gaze locking onto the increasingly nervous guildmaster. ¡°Ms. Marigold, I expect you to answer truthfully. I wonder¡­ do you have any information that has been kept off the record?¡± ¡°L¡ªLady Hound,¡± Marigold stiffened. ¡°We¡¯ve provided you with all the information we have!¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°E¡ªEven if there were more, we couldn¡¯t share it,¡± she swallowed. ¡°That would violate our policy.¡± I exhaled sharply, then¡ªwith a swift motion¡ªslammed my palm onto the table. Marigold flinched. ¡°You might not realize your situation,¡± I leaned in slightly, shifting into my ¡®Bad Cop¡¯ persona. ¡°A couple just died in your private dining area. If I don¡¯t solve this mystery soon, your Matchmaking Guild will be one of the prime suspects. And when that happens, your reputation won¡¯t just take a hit¡ªit will crumble. And you won¡¯t be the only one suffering the consequences. Every staff member will be caught in the fallout if this business collapses.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°So¡­ do you really have nothing more to say?¡± Marigold hesitated. Her lips parted as if she wanted to answer¡ªbut nothing came. ¡°I¡­ I really can''t say anything more, Lady Hound.¡± That wasn¡¯t a lie. She was trembling¡ªgenuinely afraid of something. But what? I sharpened my focus, studying her closely. Then, I realized I wasn¡¯t the source of her fear. Her eyes kept flickering elsewhere. So, I followed her gaze¡­ and it landed on him. That insufferable ¡°JOHN!!!¡± I gritted my teeth, cursing his name. ¡°Oh?¡± John blinked at me, entirely unfazed. ¡°May I be of service, my fair Lady?¡± I jabbed a finger at him, sharp and accusing. ¡°You know something, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± he replied smoothly, without the slightest hesitation. ¡°The customers¡¯ information belongs to the Guild. I merely consult with them to assist in refining the matchmaking system.¡± My gaze flicked back to Marigold. Her face had gone deathly pale. ¡°Ms. Marigold,¡± I pressed, my voice turning cold, ¡°is this place just a front for some illicit operation?¡± ¡°N-No, my Lady!¡± Marigold jolted, flustered. ¡°This business is legal! Even if I occasionally seek Mr. Moriarty¡¯s expertise¡­¡± ¡°About that, I can confirm.¡± John placed a hand over his heart, his ever-present smirk unwavering. ¡°The Guild operates strictly within legal bounds. However, countermeasures are necessary for undesirable clientele¡ªthose who visit the Matchmaking Guild with ulterior motives. So, I simply lend my expertise¡­ in exchange for a share of the profits and a VVIP membership.¡± ¡°You¡ª!¡± I shut my eyes, inhaling sharply as my fist clenched at my side. ¡°You better give me an explanation for this.¡± ¡°Absolutely,¡± John answered with a flawless customer-service smile. ¡°Ms. Marigold, I give you permission to bring out The Black Book for Lady Hound to review.¡± Marigold stiffened at John¡¯s words, but after a long moment of hesitation, she gave a reluctant nod. Without another word, she disappeared into her office before returning with a worn, leather-bound ledger. Since it was called The Black Book, it was, indeed, black. ¡°Let me see,¡± I murmured to myself as I flipped it open. Inside, pages upon pages were filled with specific client records¡ªnot the usual matchmaking profiles, but dossiers marked with warnings and annotations. These individuals had been flagged as potential troublemakers. Since it was inappropriate for the Matchmaking Guild to outright ban someone without a legal or policy violation, the receptionists were trained to proactively identify risks. While these individuals were still allowed to participate in the Guild¡¯s activities, they were placed under strict surveillance. Abusive Suitor¡­ Serial Cheater¡­ Marriage Scammer¡­ The Guild segregated them from legitimate clients. But not only that¡ªrather than removing them completely, they matched these people together, keeping them too busy to interfere with respectable customers. I wanted to praise its brilliance. But if I did, I knew someone might be excited to death. ------ ¡°John, do you realize what you¡¯ve done!?¡± ------ ¡°Well, I don¡¯t realize,¡± John answered, utterly unbothered. ¡°Please tell, what have I done?¡± ¡°In this ledger¡ªGenevieve Leclair and Cornelius Aldenworth¡ªboth listed as scammers. One posed as a wealthy widow, the other as a shipping magnate. Leclair preyed on businessmen, Aldenworth haunted rich single women.¡± I exhaled sharply, fighting the urge to throw the book at his head. ¡°And guess what? Thanks to the special system that you designed, the Guild matched them together!¡± Realizing what role he played in the tragic poetry of it all, a slow grin spread across his lips. ¡°Ah, what a tragic irony, and a fine match, indeed. Even Death seems to agree with me, so they also refused to let them part!¡± I stared at him, skeptical. ¡°Fine match!? No, this is not fine! If this book was created under your consulting,¡± I pointed at him, my voice rising. ¡°Then you are responsible for their murder!¡± ¡°Oh? How so?¡± John raised a brow. ¡°Would you mind explaining it more clearly?¡± ----- The woman and the man¡ªa scammer couple. She pretended to be a wealthy widow, and he posed as a shipping magnate. And what a twist for them both¡ªthey were matched together. The woman sought a businessman, and the man hunted for a rich, single woman. Their plan is straightforward. To trick each other into marriage. And today, the very day they signed the certificate to make it official. Their intentions were mutual¡ªsecure the marriage, claim the inheritance, and poison the other. The only flaw in their plan was they never expected their so-called ¡®Beloved¡¯ to do the same. The man preemptively poisoned the woman from the start with a slow-acting poison¡ªone that would only take effect after she had already signed her name. Meanwhile, the woman took a simpler yet surer approach. She waited until she had his signature, then slipped him a rapid-onset poison, ensuring he died instantly in his chair. ------ ¡°I knew it! It must work! My refining matchmaking procedure works perfectly!¡± ------ John clapped his hands together with enthusiasm, as though he had just completed a grand masterpiece. "Seriously, this isn¡¯t a joke," I snapped. ¡°Someone just died!¡± John didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, his calm demeanor utterly unshaken by my anger. ¡°And what if the Matchmaking Guild had paired them with someone else?¡± he asked, his voice disturbingly casual. ¡°Don¡¯t you think the casualties might¡¯ve fallen on the innocent? They could¡¯ve dragged someone else into their toxic love.¡± "So, you don¡¯t feel guilty at all?" I demanded, my blood boiling over. John¡¯s expression remained unchanged. His indifference was infuriating. ¡°Oh? Should I be the one to ask¡ªwhat guilt have I committed? Those two were scammers from the start. They were going to deceive each other whether the Guild matched them or not. Neither the Guild nor I told them to kill each other.¡± It was a flawless argument¡ªone I couldn¡¯t refute. If only he were as good of a person as he was at debates, I was certain he¡¯d be much more popular among women. Still¡ª¡°Oh, no!¡± Marigold stressed out, despite the fact that the incident had been successfully resolved. ¡°¡®Scammer Couple Killed Each Other at the Matchmaking Guild¡¯? That¡¯s still going to be a scandal!¡± ¡°The facts are unavoidable,¡± I hummed, tapping my chin in thought. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t¡­ refine the narrative a little.¡± John¡¯s eyes glinted with curiosity. ¡°That¡¯s interesting. Go on.¡± Before I could answer, the heavy boots of the Metropolitan Knights announced their arrival. But they weren¡¯t alone¡ªa swarm of journalists poured in right behind them. And who else would be the center of attention, if not the first Investigative Knight to respond to the scene? ¡°Chief Inspector Lestrade! What happened here? What can you reveal about the situation?¡± Lestrade stiffened under the barrage of questions, clearly overwhelmed. I took a step forward, snatching John¡¯s top hat straight off his head and tilting it at a perfect angle to cast a shadow over my face. ¡°Just shut up and play along,¡± I murmured. John shot me an incredulous look, but before he could protest, I turned sharply toward the crowd. ¡°Between the inept authorities and the detective who personally solved the case, whose account do you truly want to hear?¡± The journalists hesitated. A few exchanged glances. But then¡ª¡°Lady Detective! It¡¯s her¡ªit¡¯s really her!¡± ¡°Wait, she¡¯s real? I thought she was just an urban myth!¡± And just like that, the dam broke. The crowd stormed toward me and John, cameras flashing like lightning. John let out a suffering groan. ¡°Seriously? This was your plan!?¡± I smirked, gripping the brim of the hat. ¡°Like I said¡ªyou just shut up.¡±