Chapter 65: The Blooming Detective (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 65: The Blooming Detective (3)
- Beep…!
“… Huh?”
Lestrade, who had been leaning against the window to catch her breath, widened her eyes at the unexpected mechanical chirp.
- Beep-beep…!
“Meow.”
“Wha—what was that?”
The tiny mana receiver had fallen from her ear during her frantic scramble over the window ledge. Now, it had become a toy for a passing stray cat in the yard, ringing incessantly as the feline batted it around.
“… Hello?” Lestrade whispered, snatching the device. Worried the two inside the mansion might hear the noise, she pressed it to her ear.
Soon, Rachel Watson’s concerned voice crackled through the receiver.
— What took you so long to answer?
“It… it wasn’t working before…”
— You didn’t try to power it with aura instead of mana again, did you?
“… Ah.” Lestrade’s face flushed with embarrassment. “It was a habit…”
— It’s fine. I’m just glad we finally established a connection.
“But how did it suddenly activate?” Lestrade scratched her head, puzzled. “The cat couldn’t have turned it on…”
“Meow~”
A familiar ginger cat wearing a collar gave her a disdainful look, bared its fangs, and leaped over the fence, vanishing into the night.
— Anyway, show me the situation.
“… What?” Lestrade tilted her head.
— When that device is active, we can share your vision. However, the operational window is very short.
“Is… is that even possible?”
— It seems the experiments Holmes performed with mana stones weren't just to induce hallucinatory symptoms in her own body. Watson’s voice carried a hint of pride. It’s a revolutionary invention developed by my little friend. Once commercialized, it could cut London’s crime rate in half.
“Indeed, if that’s true… just having the police carry them would be a massive help for gathering evidence and preventing crimes…”
— Of course, the downside is that the strain on the user is so great they might lose consciousness within five minutes.
“… What in the bloody hell did you just say?”
Lestrade, who had been nodding along, froze. Her face twisted in bewilderment at Watson’s casual, out-of-pocket remark. “So it’s basically useless?”
— No, no. You’re the strongest girl in London. You can handle it.
“Ah…”
— That’s why we contacted you and no one else.
The realization hit Lestrade like a brick. The reason they had sought her help—and why they had been so uncharacteristically complimentary—became crystal clear. Her expression soured in real-time. “Seriously, you guys are the worst…”
— Charlotte… no, London needs this.
“………”
Lestrade bit back her retort. When Watson invoked the good of London with such gravity, she couldn't argue.
“… Haah.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, she slowly stood up and shifted her gaze toward the window.
“By the way,” Lestrade began, her expression turning somber. “Did you send me here for another purpose? Something… explicit? Besides just testing the device?”
— What?
“Or was the device just a ruse to get me here?”
The image of Adler kneeling and kissing Miss Smith’s feet to repay a family debt was still burned into her mind.
“Listen, there’s something…”
— …….?
“… The truth you all mentioned…”
She tried to frame the question with more solemnity, but her voice trailed off.
“… Wait a moment—”
Her expression went blank.
“”………..””
Through the window, she saw the mansion’s servants sprawled across the floor, weapons still in their hands.
- Click…
“He, heuk…”
In the center of the room, Isaac Adler was quietly wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. He was looking down at Clarissa Smith, who sat on the sofa, her eyes—now a trembling, blood-red hue—fixed on him in terror.
— Wh-what is…
“… Huh?”
Lestrade rubbed her eyes and shook her head, but the scene didn't change. Her gaze turned vacant as she processed what she was seeing.
“Looking at you now, you seem quite delicious too.”
“… Are you kidding me?”
Adler’s tail swayed slowly from side to side. His fangs were fully bared, jutting out in a predatory display that left no room for doubt.
.
.
.
.
.
“Why… why are you doing this?”
“I wanted to use the most non-violent method possible,” Adler responded softly amidst the chaos.
“But I’m not one of those idiots who doesn't react when attacked first.”
“D-don’t come any closer…”
Adler’s expression wasn't one of anger or excitement. It was a mask of utter apathy, devoid of emotion, as he continued in a calm, chilling tone.
“The situation is urgent. I need to pull her out of the darkness as quickly as possible.”
“Ah, ah…”
“I want to show her the light once more.”
The menacing aura emanating from Isaac Adler reached not only Lestrade but also the Baker gang watching through her eyes.
“To do that, even if it means sullying my very soul…” Adler offered a serene smile that looked terrifying in his current state. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Ahh…!”
As he reached toward Clarissa Smith, the terrified girl scrambled backward, her arms flailing within her oversized sleeves.
- Thud…
“… Eek!”
In an instant, her legs were caught by Adler’s merciless grip.
- Ha~
“……..!”
Adler leaned down and bit into her foot, his gaze as cold as a frozen wasteland. Clarissa’s eyes widened into saucers.
- Bite…
“Kyaa…!”
A frail scream tore from her lips.
“What—what are you doing…!”
- Bite, crunch…
“St-stop it…!”
The cute face that usually held a proud, mischievous smile was now distorted by pain and sheer animal terror.
- Ggeuk…
“… Ahh—”
Adler applied more strength to his grip, his teeth sinking deeper into her foot.
“Stopp…”
As the sensation in her legs began to fade into a numbing cold, the defiance in Clarissa’s eyes vanished completely.
“Please… stop…” she sobbed, her words dissolving into mumbles. “I-I was wrong…”
“……….”
“I won’t do it again… I promise…”
Adler slowly released her foot and looked down at her with that same impassive gaze. Clarissa began to plead through her tears.
“Never touch her again.”
“I-it was a mistake from the start. The one I was aiming for was—”
“… I will kill you if you touch her.”
As she tried to protest with an aggrieved look, Adler leaned in and whispered with a chilling smile. “Whoever it is, whoever tries to hurt her, I will definitely kill them.”
A brief, heavy silence followed.
“… Then, get up. Quickly.”
“Huh?”
Clarissa—too terrified to speak, her body shaking uncontrollably—scrambled to her feet at Adler’s mere gesture.
“Wha—what—”
“You’re going to go and undo the sorcery you cast.”
“… What did you do to my body?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Rather than convincing you, I decided it was more efficient to force you to act.”
Clarissa’s face turned ghostly pale as she looked down. “Thi—this… could it be…”
“You’re a sorcerer, so you should have a rough idea, right?”
A bat-shaped seal was now engraved on the sole of her foot.
“You… a vampire…”
“… Shush.”
As Clarissa’s legs gave out, Adler caught her by the nape of her neck. He whispered into her ear, his voice laced with dark amusement. “Do you want me to tear your neck apart like I did the servants?”
She shook her head violently.
“Good. Let’s go.”
“Uh…”
“First, you’ll undo the sorcery. Then, you’ll confess.”
Gripping her hand, Adler led her toward the mansion’s entrance.
“That… that sorcery…”
“……..?”
Just before they reached the carriage, Clarissa began to mumble in a quivering voice. “I… I don’t actually know the cure for it either…”
Adler stared blankly at her for a moment, then chuckled and gently stroked her head.
“No, there is one. I’m sure of it.”
“… Huh?”
“Miss Clarissa Smith, the greatest sorcerer in Europe, surely couldn't fail to undo such a simple spell, right?”
She looked down, her voice small. “I’m sorry… it’s designed so that even I can’t undo it…”
- Swish…
“… Heuk.”
She stopped speaking and began to hiccup.
“You surely can’t fail… right?”
Adler was smiling, but his eyes held a flicker of madness that was entirely unlike him. He gently gripped her throat and repeated the question.
“… Right?”
Clarissa’s eyes filled with fresh terror. Seeing the insanity lurking in his gaze, she began to tremble all over again.
.
.
.
.
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- Screech…!
Thirty minutes later…
“So, what’s your answer to my question?”
Adler had handed seven gold coins to the coachman to reach the boarding house in half the usual time. He posed the question in a low voice to the trembling Clarissa seated beside him.
“I-I already told you…” she stammered as she disembarked. “That sorcery was specially crafted. The solution is…”
“…….”
“I… I think I need to take a look first.”
Meeting Adler’s mad gaze, she quickly changed her tune, forcing a sweaty smile. “Yes. It is surely curable…”
Adler returned the smile—a refreshing, terrifying expression—and stepped into the boarding house.
“Good. Because I’ll kill you if you can’t break it.”
“… Eeek.”
“So please, do your best.”
The moment he opened the door, an unusual atmosphere greeted him.
“”……….””
“Why are you all acting like this?”
Mrs. Hudson and Rachel Watson were sitting in the living room, their expressions grim. They slowly raised their heads at his voice.
“Well…”
“Yo—you might want to see for yourself.”
Their voices were heavy with sorrow and an ominous uncertainty.
“What’s with this tension…”
- Swish…!
“… Eek!”
Adler didn't have the energy for games. He grabbed Clarissa’s arm and hauled her up the stairs.
“Miss Holmes!”
He threw open the door to Charlotte Holmes’s room, expecting to find her anxiously awaiting him.
“I’ve brought someone to treat you…”
The light in his eyes died the moment he saw the bed.
“… Miss Holmes?”
Charlotte Holmes lay there, blood trickling from her mouth. Her body looked utterly limp.
“Charlotte!”
Adler rushed to her side, his heart hammering against his ribs as he checked for a pulse.
“……….”
No matter where he felt, there was no heartbeat.
“Ah…..”
The eerily cold temperature of her skin told the story of what had happened in the short time he had been gone.
“… No.”
A deafening silence filled the room. Adler took Charlotte’s rigid hand, clenched his teeth, and lowered his head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve ruined you.”
“……….”
“If only I hadn't interfered in your life, none of this would have happened…”
His body began to shake.
- Drip…
A single tear fell onto Charlotte’s pale face.
“… Until the very end, I only brought you misery.”
Adler bit his lip hard, trying to wipe away the tear he had left on her cheek.
“Miss Smith.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve heard of a sorcery that allows one to sacrifice their soul to grant life to another.”
Clarissa looked utterly flustered. “But—”
“I’ll break your stigma.”
“Um…”
“If you want, I’ll give you all my money. Everything.” Adler’s eyes were bloodshot as he pleaded. “So, please. Perform that sorcery right now.”
“……..”
“Please…”
Adler stared at her with desperate intensity.
“… I don’t think it will work.”
“Why?” Adler’s aura began to flare with a quiet, dangerous intensity as he leaned toward her.
“Because she’s not dead.”
“… What?”
Clarissa scratched her head, looking awkward. “She’s just in a comatose state because she completely drained her mana circuits.”
A look of pure confusion crossed Adler’s face.
“She wasn't subjected to any sorcery in the first place.”
“………?”
“Of course, to anyone who isn't an expert like me, it would look exactly like a genuine curse…”
Adler’s gaze turned distant.
“But I can assure you. She’s faking it.”
“… Hmm.”
Suddenly, with a frown, Charlotte Holmes sat up in bed and stretched her limbs.
“It seems an expert’s eyes truly cannot be deceived.”
“………..”
“I starved myself for several days, submerged myself in ice water before you arrived, and even endured the pain of twisting my own mana circuits—all to mimic the effects of a sorcery-induced condition.”
Adler blinked rapidly, watching the scene in stunned silence. Finally, he spoke. “You tricked me?”
“… There was no way I would fall for such a lame trap, after all.”
Silence returned to the room.
“Surprise…!” Charlotte whispered with a faint smile, gauging his reaction. “… I was a bit harsh, wasn't I?”
“………”
“I’m sorry, but I had no choice.” She murmured, her expression turning guilty. She avoided his gaze as he continued to stare at her. “To solve this case, I truly had no other option.”
“……….”
“And then….”
She hesitated. She wondered if, by testing Adler’s resolve—a resolve that had never wavered for her—she had finally pushed him too far. She feared his heart might have turned cold.
“… Kya?”
Adler suddenly lunged forward, pulling her into a crushing embrace.
“Uh…”
“… I’m really, really, really relieved.”
Charlotte, startled by the sudden contact, held her breath as she heard the profound gratitude in his voice.
“As long as you aren't dead, that’s all that matters to me.”
Burying his face in the crook of her neck, Adler murmured softly, “No matter what happens, that’s enough for me.”
After a moment, Charlotte slowly raised her arms.
“… Isaac Adler.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked straight into his eyes. “If the version of me from a few months ago were watching this, she would have checked herself into a mental asylum.”
“……….”
“Yet, despite that, I feel I must say this.”
Their eyes locked, reflecting only each other.
“I love you.”
Charlotte’s voice was firm, yet it trembled with emotion.
“Even though I used to pride myself on being a misandrist, on being asexual, and on being more logical and rational than anyone else…”
“… Miss Holmes.”
“The very Charlotte Holmes, who was cursed to be incapable of loving anything in this world…”
The warm breath from her parted lips brushed against his nose as she leaned closer.
“… That very Charlotte Holmes… declares her unending love for you, Adler. I love you to death.”
The moment the words left her lips, they both leaned in. Their lips met in a natural, desperate collision.
“”………..””
It wasn't forceful or one-sided like before. It was an intimate intertwining, their tongues timidly exploring one another.
“… Wha—what?”
From the side, Clarissa Smith watched them with a piercing, horrified glare. “What in the hell is… this…”
She shielded her eyes with her sleeve, peeking through the gaps at a scene that was becoming a bit too passionate for a simple kiss.
“……….”
How much time passed?
- Swish…
“Ar—are you crazy…!”
As Adler collapsed onto the bed, pressing Charlotte beneath him, Clarissa scrambled backward, her cheeks flushed deep red.
“… Where are you going?”
“Heek!”
Charlotte’s cold voice halted her in her tracks.
“Sorry, but this elaborate plan wasn't just to catch you.”
“Wha—what…”
Charlotte caressed the cheek of the sleeping Adler, who had drifted off with a smile while enveloped in her black, smoky aura. She whispered with a triumphant curve to her lips.
“It’s time to remove the biggest obstacle.”
“… What?”
“So, can you deliver a letter for me, little girl?”
As Clarissa glanced toward the exit, Watson entered the room, casually fiddling with her pistol as she blocked the doorway.
“… To—to whom?”
“Why act like you don't know?”
Charlotte tossed her a sheet of paper and a pen, her smile sharp and victorious.
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That evening, at August Detective Academy…
“…… Hmm.”
Professor Jane Moriarty opened the letter delivered to her. A cold smile spread across her face.
“I see…”
The brief message, written in Clarissa Smith’s handwriting, reflected in her pale, grey eyes.
“… Interesting.”
A few minutes later, Professor Moriarty rose from her seat, donned her coat, and began preparing to leave for her destination.