Chapter 1: First Encounter
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 1: First Encounter
Is this all there is?
The Auguste Detective Academy, London’s premier training institute, had been established to combat the bizarre and inexplicable cases plaguing the world.
I truly thought this place would be different.
In the middle of her lecture to the freshman class, Jane, a newly appointed professor, couldn't help but let out a soft, mocking chuckle as she watched the scene unfold.
"The method of the crime must have involved poison," one student deduced.
"That’s right. He’s looked pale for a while now; it must have been a slow-acting toxin."
Earlier, a male student had risen from his seat to answer a question, only to suddenly collapse, vomiting a spray of crimson blood.
At the Auguste Academy, hailed as a sanctuary for the world's greatest detectives, a calamity had occurred—a murder had taken place in the middle of a classroom.
Naturally, every aspiring detective in the room was drawn to the case.
"The motive... could it be a love affair?"
"Well, he was London’s most notorious scoundrel. There’s no shortage of people who wanted him dead."
As they stared at the lifeless body, the atmosphere grew heavy. The students scrambled to piece together the puzzle, desperate to uncover the killer’s identity.
Yet the professor, her expression apathetic from start to finish, quietly averted her gaze and whispered to herself.
I never imagined they wouldn't be able to find the culprit even when I’m standing right in front of them.
Indeed, the mastermind behind this "murder" was none other than the professor herself.
With so many detectives here, how has no one noticed?
Nowhere in Europe harbored more detectives than London, the heart of this prestigious academy. Jane had firmly believed that in this haven of investigators, someone would eventually uncover her crimes. At the very least, she expected to encounter one promising talent.
Just one person.
However, after a year at the academy, her expectations had been shattered. She had lost all hope in this gathering of "prodigies."
She had committed a blatant murder right in the heart of the enemy camp, bold and unscrupulous. Yet these so-called investigators failed to connect the dots, utterly oblivious to the predator in their midst.
For someone who had spent a year being disappointed, their ineptitude today was the final straw.
"I’ll hand in my resignation today," she decided.
There was no point in staying. These substandard students were the future of the field, and the thought bored her to tears.
Calmly withdrawing her gaze from the crime scene she had orchestrated, the professor began organizing her documents. There was no one in this academy who could quench her thirst for a challenge.
In fact, it was unlikely such a person existed anywhere in the world.
.
.
.
.
"Ugh..."
"Wh-What?"
"Bloody hell!"
Just as the professor was preparing to depart, the impossible happened.
"...My head hurts."
For some inexplicable reason, the male student she had targeted—the one who should have been dead—pushed himself up from the floor, wiping blood from his chin.
"...?"
The student stared at the professor with a hazy, dazed expression while the crowd of aspiring detectives recoiled in terror.
Jane’s composed facade wavered. She had confirmed it herself: the blond-haired youth had departed for the afterlife right before her eyes. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt that he was dead.
Yet, miraculously, he stood up—alive and breathing as if he had merely awakened from a long slumber.
She couldn't fathom how he had survived or what trick he had used to evade her grasp. This was the first time in her life such a thing had happened.
From her childhood through every felony she had ever committed, she had never failed. No one escaped her—her reach was a relentless, inescapable curse.
Until now. The curse had been shattered by an unpredictable student who had completely bypassed her perfect crime.
"Shouldn't you have mentioned you weren't feeling well?"
Her heart quickened. Jane addressed the student in a low, controlled voice.
"How about I take you to the infirmary?"
Her expression remained stoic, but her eyes, usually devoid of life, now glinted like a predator that had finally spotted its prey.
"...?"
However, the student didn't seem to be fully "there." His eyes were unfocused, staring blankly into the void.
...Is something wrong with his head?
Jane furrowed her brows, pondering this otherworldly development. For the first time in her life, she felt a burning desire to engage with someone. She couldn't let any "aftereffects" ruin her new source of entertainment.
"Student, what is written here?"
To test his cognitive state, she pointed to her name on the blackboard—the one she had written during her self-introduction.
"Uh, well..."
Annoyance flashed in the student's eyes, though they remained clouded.
"What am I supposed to do if you don't even know that?"
After a moment, the student began to speak, his voice tinged with blatant irritation.
"...James Moriarty is Sherlock Holmes’ most famous nemesis. His archenemy."
His voice reverberated through the silent classroom.
"A genius who published a paper on the Binomial Theorem at twenty-one, causing a sensation across Europe. However, due to his criminal bloodline, he’s also considered London’s most dangerous man."
The tension in the room became suffocating.
"His nickname is the Napoleon of Crime. He is the shadow behind half the crimes in London and responsible for nearly every major plot in the city."
The student continued, looking increasingly weary.
"But even this perfect guy ends up at the Reichenbach Falls eventually... Ugh, just forget it."
He cut himself off with a deep sigh.
"I told you to do your own research. Is game development a joke to you? You can't even do basic character research and you keep bothering me with this..."
...
"...Huh?"
As every eye in the room fixed on him, the student finally seemed to realize something was wrong. Meanwhile, the corners of the professor’s mouth curved upward.
"Where... where am I?"
It appeared her resignation letter would have to wait.
"You seem to be misunderstanding something, student."
For the first time in a long while, Jane felt her thirst being quenched. It felt as though destiny had delivered this person directly to her.
.
.
.
.
As the haze cleared from my mind, I looked at the woman questioning me.
She was tall and slender, with well-groomed ashen hair and impeccably neat attire. Though she looked young, every gesture and movement emanated a sharp, professorial aura. Deep dark circles hung under her eyes—likely from obsessive study—but they couldn't hide her striking features.
"I don't know every investigator in the city, but I am certain there is no detective named 'Sherlock' Holmes in London."
As she gazed at me, a mix of awkwardness and terrifying familiarity washed over me.
"And my name is 'Jane' Moriarty, not 'James' Moriarty."
She gently tapped the name on the blackboard, her eyes locked onto mine.
"I haven't even published the paper on the Binomial Theorem you mentioned. In fact, it’s scheduled for publication tomorrow. No one else knows about it but me."
Cold sweat began to trickle down my forehead.
"I’ll overlook the ridiculous nickname 'Napoleon of Crime' and the malicious insinuations you've made against my character."
Her curious gaze pinned me in place. She tilted her head slightly, like a curious young lizard, before posing a question that sounded exasperated but was laced with intense interest.
"But what in bloody hell is this 'Reichenbach Falls'?"
To an outsider, the tilt of her head might have looked cute. But in that moment, I realized the truth.
"What exactly is going to happen to me there?"
Just as described in the original setting, Professor Moriarty habitually tilted her head when she was deeply curious.
"Uh, well..."
The improbable final boss of the game—the one I had just insulted to her face—was Jane Moriarty.
"Come to my office after class."
My first encounter with her couldn't have been worse. I was sure of it.