Chapter 176: True Lies?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 176: True Lies?
"Cough, hack..."
—Creak.
"...Gasp."
With my head bowed, I stared at my hand, smeared with the blood I’d just coughed up. The abrupt sound of the door opening made me suck in a sharp breath. I straightened up instantly, forcing down the metallic tang of blood clogging my throat.
"........."
A heavy silence fell between us.
"...Are you in pain?"
"What? Oh, no... why would I be?"
I hurriedly sat on my hands, desperate to hide the stains, and offered Charlotte an awkward smile as she stepped further into the room.
"I can smell blood. It’s faint, but it’s there..."
"Well, that’s... that’s because I’m a terrifying vampire, you see? I practically reek of the stuff. It’s part of the brand."
"...Hmm."
I thought I’d dodged the question with a clever bit of deflection, but Charlotte narrowed her eyes. She clearly wasn’t buying it.
—Swipe.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"...Shut up."
"Yes, ma'am..."
She reached out, grabbed my arm, and forcibly pried my hand open, revealing exactly what I had been trying to hide.
"........"
As she stared at my blood-stained palm, her expression turned ice-cold.
"Are you still going to lie to me, even after this?"
"........."
"Even someone with zero medical knowledge can see you’re not alright."
I tried to look away, but Charlotte leaned in, forcing me to meet her gaze.
"When I asked Watson about your condition, do you know why she looked so gloomy? Why she refused to answer no matter how much I pressed her?"
"That’s..."
"You might be able to deceive others, but you can’t fool a doctor—and you certainly can’t fool me."
"...Miss Holmes, think about it."
I had no choice but to spin another plausible excuse.
"I’m a terrifying devil straight out of a dark fable. Does it really make sense for a being like me to die from a mere illness?"
"........."
"It’s impossible. A devil who is also a vampire dying of a cough? It’s utterly nonsensical..."
"How can a devil know less about their own nature than I do?"
Charlotte interrupted me mid-sentence and began climbing onto the bed.
"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"If devils really couldn't die, they wouldn't have been hunted to near-extinction since the Crusades, would they?"
"........"
"...You are dying right now. Not your body, but your soul."
At her words, my composure momentarily slipped.
"Devils are generally immune to physical and magical attacks, but... there are always exceptions."
"How would you know that? You’re not even a devil..."
"I blackmailed my sister with a photo of her on a leash in your basement. Using that, I rifled through the British government's most confidential documents. So, shut up and listen to me."
Setting aside the fact that she seemed to know more about devils than I did—and I was literally one—she was casually revealing information that should never have seen the light of day. My expression grew somber.
"The things that can harm a devil... crosses, silver bullets, holy relics, the constraints of a contract..."
"...I know all that."
"Of course. If that was all there was, I wouldn't have brought it up. But the most crucial cause remains."
"And that is?"
The information she revealed next was something even I hadn't known.
"Love."
I sat there, dumbfounded. Charlotte bit her lip and lowered her head.
"Love?"
"...Don’t fucking act like you don’t know."
Her voice was heated, trembling with growing anger as she whispered in my ear.
"The most dangerous act a devil can commit is falling in love."
"........."
"Specifically, love with a contractor is exponentially more lethal. Am I wrong?"
I was genuinely speechless. I had no idea such a mechanic existed. I stared at her, stunned, but Charlotte didn't notice my confusion. She kept muttering under her breath, her head still bowed.
"Knowing that... why did you..."
"......?"
"Why did you still fall in love with me?"
"Ah, no...?"
Despite her intense gaze, I instinctively shook my head in denial.
"Just why?"
"What?"
"Why would an immortal being like you fall for someone like me, knowing it would doom you forever?"
Charlotte was past the point of rational conversation.
"That is..."
"Answer me."
"........"
"Answer me, please!"
Between my physical exhaustion and the sheer delirium of the situation, the words spilled out of my mouth without a filter.
"...I just like you. What do you want me to do about it?"
"What?"
"I like what I like. I can't exactly help it..."
An unnerving silence descended upon the room.
"...So, even though you’ve seduced countless women, you’ve never truly loved any of them."
"......?"
"If you had, you would have died long ago, wouldn't you?"
In the silence, her bone-chilling voice echoed against the walls.
"You didn’t even love the professor. You were just brainwashed by her, mentally and physically. I can tell..."
"...That’s not true."
"Shut up! I’m talking, dammit!"
Finally, unable to contain herself, she grabbed me by the collar.
"...Why do you love me?"
"........"
"Why do you like me enough to risk your fucking life?!"
Even if she asked why I liked Holmes, there was no way I could explain it. How do you tell the protagonist of the world that you're a fanatical Sherlockian from another dimension?
It was highly unlikely Miss System would allow me to explain the true nature of this reality to her.
"Don’t love me. Please."
"........"
"It’s better to be unloved than to watch you die!"
She screamed the words into my ear, her expression crestfallen.
"...Hmm."
I closed my eyes, trying to process her words, but it was futile. No matter how much sense she made, it didn't change anything.
"...It’s not possible."
"What?"
"How can I not like you?"
Having spent half my life as a fanatic Sherlockian, it was an impossible request.
"......."
I simply scratched my head. Charlotte stared at me blankly for a moment, then suddenly...
—Swoosh.
She pulled me into a tearful embrace and kissed me, cutting off any further words.
"...Mmm."
"......."
The kiss that day tasted bittersweet.
.
.
.
.
.
"...I promise you right here and now."
"Pardon?"
"I’ll save you, no matter what it takes."
After the brief kiss, Charlotte backed away, muttering to herself with newfound resolve.
"The Dragon’s Tear. With it, I can save you."
"...That’s impossible."
I couldn't help but offer a bitter smile.
"Why is it impossible? Don’t tell me it’s because dragons went extinct in ancient times."
"........."
"The only remaining one is right beside you, isn't she?"
Yes, I already knew that.
The fact that Professor Moriarty was actually a dragon was a twist I couldn't possibly have missed—I was the developer and the story consultant for the game, after all.
"...Still, it’s impossible."
"Why?"
"It’s just..."
But some things simply cannot be done.
"The Professor can’t shed tears."
"What?"
"Professor Moriarty will never cry. Not even if I die."
Despite her low empathy, the Professor could feel anger or a twisted sort of happiness to some extent. However, I could say with absolute certainty that she would never comprehend sadness in her entire life.
Perhaps not even love.
"Well... that makes sense, considering she’s raped you multiple times without so much as a flicker in her eyes. That heartless bitch... it’s to be expected."
"........."
"But the difference between her and me is that my eyes are dyed in your color."
As I pondered the Professor’s nature, Charlotte Holmes began whispering to herself again.
"...Then, the solution might be surprisingly simple."
"Really?"
I listened intently, hoping for a miracle.
"If I cease to exist in this world..."
"No."
Hearing the one thing that must never happen, I stood up and lashed out at her for the very first time.
"If you ever bring that up again... it’s over between us."
"......."
"The moment you die, I’ll kill myself too. So don’t even dream about it..."
I had her arm gripped tight. Charlotte stumbled back, nodding with a startled expression.
"...I’ll look for another way."
"........"
"So... will you let me go now?"
Realizing I was squeezing her arm far too hard, I quickly released her.
"...Suddenly acting tough? Where did that come from?"
She narrowed her eyes at me for a moment, then swiftly turned and walked out of the hospital room.
"It turns out you were just pretending to be weak..."
"........."
As the door clicked shut, silence reclaimed the room.
"Haah..."
I sat quietly on the bed and let out a long, weary sigh.
[Excuse me.]
".......?"
A message window popped up in front of me, its tone uncharacteristically timid. I tilted my head in confusion.
[I’m sorry to ask so suddenly, but... are you really a possessor?]
Why was the system asking this now?
"Then what else would I be...?"
[Warning!]
[Probability of True Identity being Revealed — 50%]
"Ah."
A few seconds later, the realization hit me. Cold sweat began to pour down my forehead.
.
.
.
.
.
"........"
Meanwhile, outside the hospital room.
"...Heh."
Charlotte, who had been about to walk away, spotted Professor Moriarty standing blankly beside the door. She snorted with a smirk, tossing her head back.
"Why are you making that face?"
"........"
"You look like someone who thought they were truly in love, only to realize the truth. Don't you?"
Of course, the words Adler had just uttered were still echoing in the Professor’s ears. Charlotte’s taunts meant nothing to her.
"...My assistant is terminally ill?"
"Tch."
At the low murmur, Charlotte clicked her tongue in disdain and walked away down the corridor.
"There’s no way that’s true..."
Left alone, only the Professor's hollow voice echoed off the silent walls.
