Chapter 13: The Red Mana League (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 13: The Red Mana League (2)
“…Holmes?”
Dr. Rachel Watson, having closed her clinic early to enjoy her day off, had finally returned to the boarding house.
“Were you with a client?”
She couldn't help but tilt her head at the sight of a young girl sitting on the sofa, shivering in visible fright.
“Wh-who are you?” the girl stammered.
“Miss Watson. She is my assistant and partner, so please, relax.”
At those words, the girl began to mutter in a tiny voice, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Two… there are two of them now…”
“………”
“Whew. Deep breaths… Let’s calm down…”
Watson stared blankly at the bizarre scene before turning to Holmes, who sat composed in her armchair.
“So, what exactly is this girl’s story?”
“Well.”
Holmes’s keen eyes narrowed as if she had already pierced through to the heart of the matter.
“She appears to be under the delusion that she is a member of the Freemasons. She is deeply immersed in various conspiracy theories and the occult. Not to mention, she has a profound interest in Eastern culture. That’s about all I can deduce at first glance—she’s a student at the academy, by the way.”
As soon as she finished, Watson, long accustomed to this routine, pulled a notebook from her bag and began to record the observations. Meanwhile, the girl—the subject of Holmes’s analysis—stared at her, eyes wide with shock.
“Is that… is that some form of divination?” Diana Wilson asked in a flustered, meek tone.
“No. I’ve merely stripped away the intermediate deductions and presented only the starting point and the conclusion.”
“Eh?”
“Well, I suppose you could consider it a rather cheap form of divination. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
Concluding the performance, Holmes leaned back wearily against the sofa. Watson leaned in and whispered.
“How did you figure all that out?”
“The imitation pin shaped like a square and compass—the symbols of the Freemasons—pinned to her chest. The fish tattoo inked on her right wrist. The numerous superstitious rituals she performed before entering this boarding house. Reaching that conclusion is elementary once you piece the fragments together.”
“I see…”
Watson nodded, convinced, but soon furrowed her brows and posed another pressing question.
“But today… your attitude seems oddly off, doesn’t it?”
“Watson. Dealing with a client filled with illogical, fanciful thoughts—someone who is the exact antithesis of my rational mind—has proven more challenging than I anticipated.”
“To say that right to her face…”
“Not to mention, this client brought up that man…”
Watson was about to scold Holmes, but she froze, her expression shifting to one of pure surprise.
“…Isaac Adler?”
“D-d-do you know him?”
As Watson uttered Isaac’s name with a dubious look, Miss Wilson reacted with sudden vigor.
“What on earth is going on here…?”
“Senior Wilson. I apologize for the interruption, but could you please explain everything from the beginning once more?”
As curiosity flared in Watson’s eyes, Holmes propped her chin on her hand and gestured to the client.
“It’s quite a peculiar story, so I’d like to organize my thoughts while hearing it again. And sometimes… Watson offers perspectives I haven’t considered. It will undoubtedly be helpful for your case.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll tell you everything, as many times as it takes, if it helps solve this.”
Watson and Holmes fixed their gaze on her. Diana Wilson straightened her back and steadied her voice.
“I first met Isaac two weeks ago.”
.
.
.
.
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“So, that Isaac Adler….”
As the flushed Miss Wilson finished her explanation, Watson, who had been wearing a blank expression for some time, finally spoke.
“He abruptly confessed to you, face turning red, the moment you opened the door to his knock?”
“Yes, yes. He said he’d had a crush on me for a long time…”
“…That seems highly unlikely.”
Puzzled, Watson tilted her head. With Holmes still deep in thought, eyes closed, Watson took the initiative to cross-examine the client.
“What reason did he give?”
“At the library… he said he fell for me while I was reading a romance novel…”
“And you accepted that?”
At those words, Wilson bowed her head in shame, her face turning a deep crimson.
“It was the first time… the first time someone had ever approached me like that.”
“………”
“I was so taken aback that I missed the chance to refuse… and since that day, he kept coming to my room without fail…”
Knowing the notorious reputation of the infamous Isaac Adler, Watson frowned with a worried expression.
“He didn't do anything… strange to you, did he?”
“No, no!”
The girl shook her head vigorously.
“No, it was actually fun. He brought me books from the library that I’d been too shy to visit lately… and sometimes we played board games together.”
“……….”
“And, and he… he talked with me. I was scared at first, so I just rambled about anything… but then it started to become fun as we kept doing it over and over…”
Listening to the disjointed words, Watson cast a fleeting glance at Holmes.
“……….”
As usual, Holmes was already lost in her own world, eyes shut tight.
“He was pure and kind, contrary to what people say about him.”
“…That doesn’t sound like him at all.”
“On the contrary, when he was with me… he seemed even more embarrassed than I was. But that side of him was oddly endearing…”
As Wilson spoke, the blush spread all the way to her ears.
“It’s like a romance novel. The Scum of London is Clumsy Only in Front of Me. That would be the perfect title for this story.”
“That… that might actually be a hit if it were published.”
“…Well, with a face like his, if he acted awkward, who wouldn't fall for it?”
Watson muttered, realizing that Adler’s very existence was an implausibility.
“Anyway, I’ve heard enough of your little romance. Can you focus on why you’re here?”
“Yes, yes!”
Watson continued to play detective in place of the preoccupied Holmes. In response, Miss Wilson pulled something from her bag.
“It was about a week ago. When he came to see me at the usual time, he handed me this.”
Watson’s eyes fell on a club announcement from the Auguste Detective Academy.
“A Mock Crime Consultation Club?”
“Yes, it’s a club that was created a week ago. Isaac is the president.”
“What did he say when he gave this to you?”
“He… he told me to take the entrance test…”
Wilson began to sweat, the memory clearly making her nervous.
“I was going to refuse, of course. I was comfortable with Isaac, but… other people still scared me…”
“It seems you have a severe case of social anxiety.”
“Yes. But then he said… that he’d become very busy with club activities and wouldn't be able to see me as often.”
She clenched her hands tightly.
“I didn't like that.”
“Hmm.”
“It wasn't fun being cooped up in my room like before. I found myself waiting only for the times he would come to visit.”
At this point, her voice, which had been shaky the entire time, finally steadied.
“I had a good reason to feel that way.”
“What was that reason?”
“I’ll explain that after I finish the story.”
Switching to a clearer, more confident tone, she continued.
“Anyway, taking advantage of the evening when there were fewer people, I entered the interview room on the third floor. They were all waiting for me.”
“Do you remember who was there?”
“Um… let me see…”
Miss Wilson hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Professor Jane Moriarty, Isaac, and… Victoria Spaulding.”
“I couldn't ask earlier because your story was so scattered, but who is this Victoria Spaulding?”
Holmes finally opened her eyes to interject.
“She is a student who works part-time at my mother’s shop. Before I got close to Isaac, she was probably my closest friend.”
“Hmm… So you’re saying this student was a member of the Mock Crime Consultation Club?”
“Yes, that’s right. I was quite surprised when she greeted me so warmly and offered a handshake.”
“…She offered a handshake, did she?”
Diana nodded, glanced at Holmes, and continued.
“After the handshake with Victoria, Professor Moriarty asked me to demonstrate my mana.”
“Was that because of the special regulation in the club announcement?”
“Yes. I didn't have high expectations, given my hair is orange.”
She paused.
“…Strangely enough, it appeared. Red mana flared when I tried to summon it.”
She scratched her head and extended her hand, showing off her usual orange mana.
“I tried several times afterward, but I couldn't reproduce that fiery red again. Not even once.”
“Hmmm.”
“But at that moment, it was a perfect red to my eyes. And I passed the test.”
Watson examined the orange mana and scratched her head.
“It looks orange no matter how I look at it…”
“I know, right? I have no idea what happened. I’ve wondered if I just hallucinated the whole thing…”
“It wasn't a hallucination.”
Holmes interjected for the second time.
“Ah, please continue. I’m just talking to myself.”
“Yes, yes. Anyway, after that, I was assigned a rather strange role in the clubroom…”
“Such as blindly copying incomprehensible formulas, perhaps?”
“C-Correct! Did I mention that earlier? Or is it your deduction-slash-divination again?”
“…Please continue.”
Wilson looked at Holmes with sparkling eyes before clearing her throat.
“It was work unrelated to crime consultation as far as I could tell, but it was still nice. I received a generous allowance and, above all, I could see Adler for longer periods of time.”
“………”
“However, that small happiness ended abruptly today. We reached the two-week mark of the club’s founding, and then, without warning…”
She pointed to a crumpled memo on the table.
Due to the personal circumstances of the club president, the Mock Crime Consultation Club is disbanded, effective today.
“…How unfortunate.” Watson sighed.
“Of course, I went looking for Adler everywhere. But he was nowhere to be found.”
“…Wait, but it could really be due to unavoidable circumstances, couldn't it?” Watson asked, tilting her head.
“You’ll think differently when you see this.”
Wilson pulled something from her pocket.
“Is this…?”
“An occult ornament?”
It was an hourglass, with golden sand falling through the glass chambers like emitting smoke.
“It’s not just an ornament. You, Charlotte Holmes, must already know that magic and mysteries are no longer mere fabrications.”
“Regrettably, I have to admit that fact,” Holmes replied with a sigh.
“This clock shows the remaining lifespan of a person.”
“…Pardon?”
Holmes’s eyes snapped open in surprise.
“Of course, it requires the subject’s blood… and external interventions could alter fate…”
“Is that really authentic?”
“…Yes. I have one for myself as well.”
Wilson took out a second hourglass.
“There… Miss Wilson’s is almost entirely drained…”
“I am suffering from an incurable disease.”
“…Ah.”
“I’ve tried everything to cure it, even dabbling in the occult. But in the end, nothing worked.”
Watson finally understood why the girl had given her heart to Adler so easily.
“I don’t have much time left.”
“So the reason you accepted Adler was…”
“…Well, perhaps because he brought laughter into my life? A life that had been listless and short.”
With a forced smile, Wilson pushed the hourglasses forward.
“These were quite difficult to obtain. I don’t know if they will be enough for the fee, but…”
“I’ll take the case.”
Before Wilson could finish, Holmes was already writing a receipt.
“So we just need to find Isaac Adler and change his fate, right?”
“Ah…”
“As for the payment, I’ll accept these two hourglasses.”
Wilson’s mouth fell open, and her eyes welled with tears.
“Th-thank… thank you…”
“………”
“Thank you so much…”
For a long while, Wilson’s tearful gratitude echoed through the boarding house.
*
“What do you make of this case, Holmes?”
After Diana Wilson had finally left, Watson turned to her partner.
“It’s rather perplexing for you as well, isn't it?”
A faint smile graced Holmes’s lips.
“The cases that seem most perplexing are precisely the ones I adore the most, Watson dear…”
Holmes rose from her seat, brushed her shoulders, and began to stride toward the door.
“Finding a clue that leads to the truth is exceedingly difficult, but once you grasp it, everything tends to unravel in an instant.”
“Are you saying…”
“While there are still unresolved questions, I believe I’ve grasped the clue that will unravel this mystery…”
She donned her overcoat and pocketed a pair of handcuffs.
“I’m going to verify that clue now. From Wilson’s residence to the pawnshop and the academy—I have many places to visit today.”
“Uh-huh. I see.”
“It’s still early, so if I move quickly, I should be able to verify everything before evening.”
She headed for the door, extending a hand to stop Watson as she tried to follow.
“And I’m genuinely sorry… but for this case, I have to handle it alone. Because this matter is…”
“Alright, take care, Charlotte.”
As Holmes scratched her head, trying to apologize, she scowled at the sight of Watson’s knowing, content expression.
“Why are you making that face?”
“Shouldn't one avoid feeling overly jealous when their unrequited love seems to be straying? She has such a sad story, too…”
“Watson, I’ve told you time and again that I—”
“Charlotte, just look at your face right now.”
Watson pointed toward the mirror. Holmes turned her gaze.
“Hmm…”
On the face of the usually cool and composed woman, a displeased, slightly puffed-up expression had surfaced.
“Our Charlotte is so cuuuute right now…”
“………”
“To think the great Charlotte Holmes is being jealous. Living long enough really does bring surprising sights. I thought for sure you’d never go through a teenage phase.”
“Be quiet, Watson.”
Charlotte swiftly exited, muttering under her breath.
…This time, you won’t be able to run away from me, Adler.
In her pocket, the handcuffs clinked busily.
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Sometime later, as the day began to darken.
“Miss Holmes, it has already gotten this late.”
For some reason, Charlotte was walking the streets of London, now blanketed in darkness, her steps perfectly matching those of Isaac Adler—the very person her client had been searching for. She was stuck closely to his side.
“How was it, conducting a cross-examination with the suspect?”
“………”
With handcuffs binding their wrists together, they had drawn stares throughout the day.
“If you found it enjoyable, would you mind finally uncuffing us, as promised?”
It should be noted that the key to those handcuffs was not with Adler, but firmly in Charlotte’s possession.