Chapter 2: A Study in Grey
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 2: A Study in Grey
｢ Sender: KIM573 ｣
｢ Subject: To the Story Department: Read this if you don’t want to ruin the game any further. ｣
『 This game’s illustrations, graphics, and optimization are practically flawless. Almost everything about it is perfect.
Except for one thing—the story your department is responsible for.
To be honest, with the quality of this game, as long as the story isn’t abysmally bad, it should be an absolute hit.
However, that doesn’t mean you can neglect narrative consistency as you have done… well, consistently.
Let’s set aside the fact that all the main characters have been gender-swapped into females. We can brush that off as a unique quirk of the game. However, the fact that the majority of the characters seem to have the IQ of a brick is something I simply cannot overlook.
To make the protagonist shine, you should have planned a more sophisticated trick. What’s the point of nerfing the intelligence of every single character except the protagonist in a mystery game?
And why do all the events feel like a sloppy photocopy of the Sherlock Holmes series?
A late 19th-century London infused with supernatural abilities. Detectives tracing bizarre incidents in an urban fantasy setting. With such a captivating premise, I truly don’t understand why you are fumbling the execution this badly.
There are countless characters and stories you could draw inspiration from, yet you are stubbornly fixated on Sherlock Holmes.
And although the game spans from the late 19th to early 20th century, does it make sense that the detectives don’t even know about fingerprints? Surely, this isn’t an attempt at historical accuracy, right? If it is, you have successfully failed.
The London Police adopted fingerprint identification in 1901. Even in the original Sherlock Holmes series written by Arthur Conan Doyle himself, the importance of fingerprints was first mentioned not by Holmes, but by a constable.
For ordinary people, maybe it’s excusable, but professional detectives of that era not knowing the importance of fingerprints is a glaring historical error.
Of course, this isn’t the only issue. Your story has a myriad of consistency problems and historical inaccuracies.
However, the most glaring issue—the icing on the cake of this clusterfuck—is the ultimate villain who suddenly emerges at the end to wrap everything up: Professor Jane Moriarty.
To use a character as charismatic as Moriarty as a one-off throwaway, and in the worst possible way at that… if you’re failing to be historically accurate elsewhere, why have you chosen to be so pinpoint accurate here?
As a story consultant, I simply cannot accept this abomination of a narrative.
You should start from scratch and redo everything until every inconsistency in this nonsensical storyline is addressed.
Until then, I cannot possibly give my approval. I would stake my life on preventing this game from being released.
With that said, have a good day… 』
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To summarize the passionate 2,500-character rant I sent to the story department of the game company I work for a few days ago, it went something like that.
After a few follow-up phone calls, I was eventually summoned to their meeting room.
I lost consciousness while delivering a heated speech in front of a group of buffoons who seemed unable to comprehend a word I was saying.
When I finally came to and regained my senses, I deeply regretted sending that official document.
“Alright, let’s wrap up the lesson for today.”
The final boss of the game we had been developing. The pinnacle of a story with no coherence. Yet, for all its numerous flaws, the impact of Professor Jane Moriarty within that jarring storyline was undeniably immense.
“Don’t forget to stop by my office.”
Somehow, I found myself standing in front of her—the woman I had declared would eventually fall to her death at the Reichenbach Falls.
As an added bonus, I had also grandly referenced several of her achievements that hadn’t even taken place yet.
This has to be a case of possession—one of those fantasy tropes.
I sat silently, looking like I’d lost my wits, until everyone had left the classroom. Once alone, I couldn’t help but think to myself.
Damn piece of shit company! I knew something was off.
I had never met the developers or the CEO in person. Not even once. Since my role was merely a story consultant, I mostly worked from home.
Come to think of it, today was my first visit to the company. The expressions of the people in the meeting room when I ranted incessantly had also seemed… unusual.
I should have been more careful before accepting the job. Blinded by the high salary and stable work environment, I jumped right in, and now… I found myself in this horrific situation.
…I should go, shouldn’t I?
I had already realized this wasn’t a dream. I had pinched my cheek far too many times to confirm that fact.
It seemed that, somehow, I had been transported into the girl-detective game our company was developing—the one based on the Sherlock Holmes series.
But this wasn't the era when Professor Moriarty reigned as the Napoleon of Crime; it was when she was still a professor at the academy.
It was time to act to the best of my abilities if I wanted to survive.
Honestly, considering the situation, I wanted to sit in shock for a few days, but my life was currently in danger.
I had, after all, attracted the attention of the final boss.
I wanted to run away from this detective academy and everything else related to the main storyline. However, considering Professor Moriarty’s nature, escape seemed both improbable and impossible.
In a few years—or perhaps even a few months—I would probably end up as a specimen grandly displayed in her home as part of her collection.
Therefore, with reluctance and tears brimming in the corners of my eyes, I made my way to Professor Moriarty’s office.
I recited the old saying, “If you keep your wits about you, you can survive even in a tiger’s den,” as I walked straight into said tiger’s den.
…Perhaps, unexpected as it may be, everything might go smoothly.
Thinking about it, I realized I might just be overthinking things.
While I knew what Moriarty would become, which frightened me out of my wits, the current her was not the lord of the underworld. She was merely a professor at a prestigious academy.
Who could tell? Even if Moriarty was born for a life of crime, perhaps in her early twenties, she still had a somewhat kind heart.
And even if she intended to do something to me, she wouldn't be able to touch me within the sacred grounds of the detective training institute.
“Hmm…”
I comforted myself with that thought, but as her office door came into view, the tension returned.
As the story consultant, I was familiar with most of the characters in the game. However, Jane Moriarty, who only appeared at the very end, was still a great mystery to me.
I couldn't predict what would happen once I opened that door.
“…Whew.”
- Knock, knock, knock!
After hesitating for a while, I finally took a deep breath and knocked.
— Come in.
Hearing Professor Moriarty’s voice, I braced myself and entered the room.
“Huh.”
Before I could even take in the surroundings, I came face to face with…
- Drip, drip…
On the sofa opposite the chair where Professor Moriarty sat, lay the academy’s dean, bleeding from a hole in his head.
Damn, that man was one of the mid-level bosses.
My mind went blank for a moment, but my survival instincts made me instinctively step back toward the door.
“Ah, it’s you.”
As I moved, the professor—with a welcoming expression on her charming face—flicked her finger.
- Clang!
Before I knew it, the door had locked tightly.
“I thought you were smart. Did I perhaps misjudge you?”
Wiping the bright red blood splattered on her beautiful face with a towel, she smiled at me.
“It’s not a particularly good habit to fidget with the mana accumulator hidden in your school uniform pocket, now is it?”
She was right.
Just as Holmes had felt threatened by the sudden appearance of Moriarty, I had secretly prepared a means of self-defense in anticipation of a situation like this.
If my life was threatened, I intended to use the mana accumulator—a tool possessed by the original owner of this body—as a weapon.
“If you’re not careful, the mana could flow in reverse. That would be dangerous for you, wouldn’t it, student?”
Just like in the original work, Moriarty saw right through me. She stared piercingly at me while pointing to her desk.
- Click…
Trying my best to remain calm, I placed the mana accumulator on the desk, exactly where she pointed.
“You won’t die alone. That’s a commendable stance.”
She spoke as my hand lingered on the device.
This isn't looking good.
I was barely maintaining a standoff by suggesting I might self-destruct if pushed into a corner. But the situation was heavily stacked against me.
Seeing the blood flowing from the elderly man’s corpse behind me, it was clear she had just committed murder. Yet, she had deliberately let me in under such dire circumstances.
I couldn't fathom why, but judging by the sharp look in her eyes masked by that cold smile, she was testing me.
The real question was: what was she testing?
Calm down. Just calm the fuck down.
The fear of losing my life at any moment… the nausea from seeing a dead body for the first time… the anxiety of not even knowing how to use the mana accumulator in the first place…
Despite everything, I mustered all my strength to remain composed. I had a feeling that if I showed even a hint of weakness or panic, my life would end instantly.
“What do you want?”
I couldn't keep up this charade forever. Since any external intervention was blocked, time was only making things worse for me.
“On the contrary, what do you want from me?”
I tried to ask as calmly as possible, but Professor Moriarty only countered with her own question.
“You managed to escape my grasp perfectly. But instead of accusing me, you chose to accept my invitation and come to my office…”
As I listened to her incomprehensible words, Professor Moriarty shifted her gaze to the mana accumulator.
“Moreover, you’re now trying to threaten me in return.”
A chilling silence ensued.
“I’m dying of curiosity to know what someone like you wants from me.”
Breaking the silence, Moriarty tilted her head like a lizard, looking at me with eyes filled with endless curiosity.
“Won’t you give me an answer?”
Once again, a palpable silence enveloped the office. Within that eerie atmosphere, I racked my brain as hard as possible.
Judging from her reaction, Moriarty was interested in me. But the issue was, I knew exactly how her "interest" usually ended.
What response would prevent her from killing me right here? How could I turn her fickle interest into something favorable?
What did Moriarty like in the original work? What could possibly make me endearing to her?
“Why the silence, student?”
I was out of time. For better or worse, I had to say something—anything.
“I want to be a graduate student…”
With my eyes tightly shut, I blurted out the first idea that popped into my head.
“Specifically, I want to study under your guidance.”
To survive, I decided to sacrifice my dignity. That was the conclusion of my desperate, accelerated thinking.
“What do you think?”
Hoping desperately that the young Moriarty held a strong sense of identity as a professor, I waited for her response.
.
.
.
.
.
- Ding!
At that moment, a message appeared.
｢Villain Maker｣
— Description: Fulfilling the probability of Professor Moriarty’s appearance.
With a cheerful tone, unidentified messages began to pop up before my eyes.
Progress: 1%
“…Huh?”
What the hell was this now? Damn it!