Chapter 147: Identity Revealed
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 147: Identity Revealed
“I’ve arrived…”
— Bam!
The carriage had been hurtling down the stony country road, and the moment it screeched to a halt, the passenger threw a handful of coins at the coachman and leaped out.
“Haa, haaa…”
Rachel Watson was gasping for breath, though she hadn't run a single step of the journey herself.
Only minutes ago, the horrific realization had set in: her fiancé was already married. She had utterly snapped. In a matter of seconds, she had transformed into the most pitiable bride-to-be in all of London.
— Click.
“…Should I perhaps call the police?” the coachman muttered to himself.
He watched blankly as she marched toward an old church, a pistol gripped in her hand and eyes so bloodshot they screamed of a mind pushed to the brink of madness.
“There’s no need for that.”
“Eeek!”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder, a devilish grin splitting her lips. “An ordinary man like you shouldn’t get involved in business like this, don’t you think?”
“Oh, a-ah, y-yes! I understand!”
Rachel was referring to the divide between those who dealt with monsters and the supernatural and the common folk who lived in blissful ignorance. However, after enduring her murderous aura for the entire ride, the coachman’s interpretation was slightly different.
“I—I didn’t see anything!”
“……?”
“Well then… goodbye!”
The coachman, trembling in terror, watched the doctor’s coat Watson wore flutter in the warm sunset light. To his terrified eyes, it looked less like medical attire and more like the grim vestments of a high-ranking mob enforcer. He lashed the horses and fled the scene.
“…Well, it doesn’t matter.”
Watson squinted at his retreating figure before quickening her pace toward the church. As she walked, she recited a bit of legal trivia her partner, Charlotte Holmes, had recently shared.
“Devils are not human; they are organisms harmful to humanity. Therefore, whatever is done to them is considered perfectly legal.”
It was fortunate the faint-hearted coachman—who had already been fooled and mind-wiped by Adler, Professor Moriarty, and Lupin twice before—wasn't close enough to hear her rambling.
— Thud, step…
Holding her breath, Watson skillfully twirled the pistol in her hand as she approached the church doors.
Should I put on an act once I’m inside?
For a fleeting moment, she imagined her cunning fiancé sensing her killing intent the moment she stepped through the door and vanishing without a trace.
No, I can’t.
Acting as if nothing was wrong was a losing move. Watson took pride in being an elite among elites, but she knew her acting skills were disastrous. Even with a mask to hide her expression, her fiancé would suspect something within seconds.
…So, should I just shoot him the moment I enter?
The idea had merit. She wasn't quite as skilled as that petite gunslinger brat Adler kept as an underling, but Watson’s marksmanship was more than adequate. Putting an anesthetic round into her fiancé’s thigh the moment the door swung open would be trivial.
But the others will probably stop me…
That was the problem. The people inside this church were among the most powerful entities in a London riddled with mystery and the supernatural.
A world-renowned detective who, despite her denials, clearly wielded a form of ancient, forgotten dark magic.
An international master thief who had plundered jewels from every corner of the globe, leaving a trail of arrest warrants in her wake.
And finally, a mysterious university professor who could somehow suppress both of those women with a mere flick of her finger.
Watson was a seasoned veteran, but even she knew that stopping a sudden gunshot would be child's play for women of that caliber.
“…Haaa.”
Well aware of their capabilities, Watson abandoned the idea of a surprise attack. She sighed heavily and reached for the doorknob.
“Well, it can’t be helped.”
The plan she ultimately settled on was simple.
“I’ll just have to get close and shoot him point-blank…”
It was a straightforward, brute-force solution—perfectly in line with her character. However, her plan was derailed before it could even begin.
“……Eh?”
Inside the church—which looked as though it had been the epicenter of an earth-shattering battle in her absence—her fiancé was nowhere to be found. The interior was in complete disarray.
“You’ve arrived.”
The only person left in the devastated building was her partner, Charlotte Holmes. The genius detective was smoking so heavily that the air had turned acrid. She greeted Watson with an indifferent voice.
“Holmes.”
“…Yes.”
“I have a case I’d like to commission.”
As Watson’s ice-cold voice echoed through the eerie silence, Holmes looked as though she had expected this exact scenario. She began walking out of the ruined church.
“Actually, I wanted to tell you sooner, but I’ve been under certain… constraints until very recently.”
“……”
“…So, as a gesture of apology, I will not be charging a fee for this request.”
Rachel Watson silently tucked her pistol back into her coat and followed her partner.
*
A few minutes later.
“This is…”
“The cottage where you stayed with your fiancé not long ago.”
Following Holmes into the familiar building, Watson tilted her head in confusion.
“Are you wondering why I’m here?”
“……..”
“Since it’s just the two of us, I’ll spare you the display of intellectual vanity. The reason I’m here is…”
“Fingerprints.”
Watson interrupted her, whispering the word.
“Years ago, you published a thesis on a distinct form of evidence that could identify a criminal. The conservative, outdated police force still doesn't take it seriously. You’re here for that, aren't you?”
“…Yes, that’s right.”
Watson looked to her partner for confirmation. Charlotte nodded slightly, a flash of genuine surprise and astonishment crossing her face for a split second.
“I read it back before we were close, just to get to know you better. For what it’s worth, I found the paper quite impressive.”
“Ahem.”
“Anyway, you’re here to collect the evidence mentioned in that paper, right?”
“…Of course.”
Charlotte couldn't help but blush at the sudden praise. She coughed awkwardly to hide her embarrassment, pulled a mana stone from her pocket, and began channeling her power into it.
“Watson, it would be wise to take at least three steps back.”
“…What are you doing?”
“I’m going to attempt the easiest and most reliable method of collecting fingerprints.”
In the next moment—
— Puff!
The mana stone in her hand disintegrated into a fine powder, scattering into the air.
“Cough, cough…”
“Are you alright? If you have a headache, you should step outside for some fresh air.”
“Uh… I’m fine.”
Despite backing away as advised, Watson had inhaled a small amount of the mana dust. The magically infused powder triggered a sudden wave of dizziness, making her steady her head.
“…But, Charlotte.”
“Yes?”
“You inhaled the mana stone too, didn't you? Then how are you still…”
Watson caught a momentary flicker in Charlotte’s eyes and her expression immediately hardened.
“I told you not to misuse mana stones like that.”
“Finely ground mana stones have a dual nature. Sometimes they are used for dark purposes, like inducing hallucinations.”
“Don’t change the subject. You still haven't kicked that disgusting habit…”
“However, if used differently, they can also serve to illuminate the truth.”
Ignoring the lecture, Charlotte kept her eyes on Watson and pointed to a cup on the desk.
“In my case, whether I use it to stimulate my brain or to collect fingerprints, it all serves one purpose—uncovering the truth.”
“This is…”
“These are Isaac Adler’s fingerprints.”
The prints on the cup reacted to the dispersed mana powder, glowing with a bright light.
“A fingerprint. Unique to every individual.”
“…But what if they are twins? What then?”
“I’ve already tested that. Even twins born at the same hour on the same day have different fingerprints.”
At Charlotte’s confident declaration, Rachel Watson fell silent, her body tensing.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to collect your fiancé’s fingerprints for comparison…”
“That won't be a problem, Holmes.”
Suddenly, Watson pulled her blouse open. Charlotte’s eyes widened in shock.
“There are plenty of samples here.”
Her chest was smeared with her fiancé’s fingerprints, preserved beneath a thick layer of cosmetics.
“…….”
“Is this enough?”
With a vacant look, Charlotte’s hand unconsciously trailed over the assortment of prints that extended well below Watson's navel. The touch made Watson blush with shame, but she quickly composed herself.
“…It is.”
Regaining her composure, Charlotte glared irritably at Watson’s chest, clearly annoyed by the significant difference in their respective sizes. A moment later, she pulled a sticky, tape-like tool from her bodice to collect the evidence.
— Pssshhh.
“Aaah~”
“Please don’t make strange noises.”
Just like that, Charlotte Holmes successfully lifted several fingerprints from Watson’s skin.
“With prints this clear, the matching process is straightforward.”
“…….”
“We simply lay them over one another and check. Like this.”
She placed the tape over the glowing prints on the cup and handed it to Watson with a whisper.
“…A cup of bitter truth, just as you ordered.”
Despite the grim sarcasm, Watson remained unmoved. She took the cup with shaking hands. A long, heavy silence followed as she stared at the evidence.
“…Hah.”
An icy sneer suddenly broke from her lips.
“Ah, haha…”
The fingerprints of Isaac Adler and Neville St. Claire, overlaid on the cup, were a perfect match. Not a single detail was out of place.
“Ha…”
Her laughter vanished like smoke in the wind. When she spoke again, her voice was a low, murderous whisper—more ferocious than anything she had ever uttered in her life.
“…That fucking son of a bitch!”
*
Meanwhile, at that exact moment.
“…Why are my ears so itchy?”
“Are you really asking because you don’t know?”
Wrapped in Lupin’s cloak, Isaac Adler was darting through the London sky, fleeing from a professor whose rage had reached its absolute peak.
Chapter 2 — Complete
“Aha.”
“You sound so naive…”
Lupin sighed at his unnecessarily optimistic response. Suddenly, her eyes widened.
“Oh, no.”
“Phantom Thief Lupin!!”
A sharp voice rang out from the ground below.
“You are completely surrounded!”
“…This has become quite troublesome,” Lupin muttered.
“Release the hostage immediately and surrender peacefully! Now!”
A young lady with twin-tails shouted through a megaphone, leading a squad of officers wearing police uniforms rarely seen in London.
“I never thought she would actually come to Britain…”
“…Hmm.”
“Excuse me?”
As Lupin glared at the policewoman with an annoyed expression, Adler began wriggling in her embrace.
“She looks cute…”
“You’re kidding, right?”
For the first time, Lupin looked at Adler with a chilling gaze. She whispered in a deadly serious tone.
“Any other woman is fine, but not her. Think again, alright?”
Facing the grim Lupin, Adler smirked. “…But she’s totally my type.”
“Shall I kill you and preserve your body?”
“I don’t die even if I’m killed, so what then?” Adler asked, breaking into a cold sweat while trying to keep his voice steady.
Lupin stared down at the boy in her arms and whispered into his ear with a frigid, terrifying calm.
“There is always the option of preserving you alive.”
[Game Over Alert!]
“…Eeek!”