Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Sherlock Holmes (3)
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Jenectra Publishing House President Foren Hes tins's explanation wasn't all that long.
Of course, my face couldn't help but take on a subtle expression after hearing the whole thing.
"Have you perhaps gone mad?"
Ah, slip-up.
I cleared my throat upon seeing Foren flustered by my words.
Then I rephrased and spoke again.
"I understand that you like my work, President. But even so, putting it on the front page as an extra edition? What would you have done if it hadn't worked out?"
I'd softened my words, but in the end, it was no different from what I'd said first.
Besides, was it really right for me to be saying this?
Shouldn't the secretary be the one?
I glanced sideways at the secretary, who sighed and shook her head.
Aha, she'd already failed to persuade him, huh?
Just as sympathy welled up for her, Foren cleared his throat and spoke.
"Ahem. If it hadn't worked out, I would've just borrowed the money. Of course, I never doubted it would succeed! It's the author's work, after all!"
Agh, this guy's driving me crazy.
I wanted to smack my forehead, but there were eyes watching, so I held back.
Instead, I sorted through my two conflicting emotions.
One was bewilderment at Foren's mad stunt.
The other was pleasure from his flattery.
Is this why kings keep sycophants by their side?
He kept raving about how great my work was, how incredible I was as a person.
"Haha, it's not that big a deal."
"Not that big? It's impressive for a debut author to write at this level."
A smile crept unbidden onto my face.
Then the secretary nearby looked at us both with utter disdain.
Ahem, snap out of it.
"President, don't you have any questions you're curious about?"
It was a kind of service.
After all, he'd promoted my work and skyrocketed sales.
The weekly settlement wouldn't come until next week, but judging by the reactions now, the entire first print run must have sold out.
The first print was around a thousand copies.
...Thinking about it now, that's a lot for a first run.
Anyway, Foren's eyes sparkled with emotion at my words.
Of course, I didn't want that kind of look from a man, so my expression soured on its own.
He either didn't notice or ignored it as he asked,
"In that case, why did the coachman—no, the true culprit—return to the scene of the crime of his own accord?"
Ah, I hadn't expected that one.
I made a troubled face, and he waved it off first.
"If it's difficult, you don't have to say."
"...No, it's fine. I'll explain simply."
It was a misunderstanding born from my trying to stay as close as possible to the original.
It wasn't hard to explain, but I didn't particularly want to say it myself.
It felt like making excuses.
Still, considering the setups in the novel, it wouldn't be hard to understand.
"First off, the children were the ones who brought the coachman. They're an age that's hard to suspect. Moreover, he'd just finished his 20 years of revenge."
"So he was too excited to think straight?"
"Exactly. Plus, Baker Street's paths are complicated, so he might've thought he needed the coachman's help."
I said it like a guess on purpose.
Because I didn't know the truth myself, and even if I did, I shouldn't spoil the reader's imagination.
As intended, he showed surprise and understanding, murmuring to himself.
I watched him for a moment, then turned to the secretary beside me.
"Hello."
"...Yes. Has the author been well?"
"Me? Nothing much. Just writing the next volume—"
"Next volume?! Already?!"
Agh, you startled me!
Foren, who'd been muttering to himself nearby, yelled and pressed close.
Whoa, his breathing sounds off?
He approached so menacingly that I unwittingly stepped back.
"Author! The next volume will be with our publishing house too, right? Right?"
"Uh, well."
Tsk, looking at him now, agreeing feels like a bad idea.
I can already picture myself locked in a room writing nonstop...!
"President. That's enough. You're scaring off the contract we were about to make."
Thankfully, the quick-witted secretary held him back.
But Foren wouldn't let up.
"Wait, let go! Author! Please, the next volume too—"
"Haha, I'll think about it. Goodbye."
"Author!"
As Foren reached out, the secretary grabbed him again to stop him.
She gestured with her eyes for me to hurry and go.
I conveyed my thanks with a look and quickly escaped the publishing house.
The protest was still going on in front of the building.
As Foren said, it must be because the first print in the fourth section sold out.
Hurry up and do a reprint.
I glanced at the scene briefly before turning toward the mansion.
Then, unable to hold back, I threw both arms up high.
"Grrraaah, yes!"
Now I had motivation to write the next volume.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ House Apontuna.
Close to the imperial family, they were born with distinctive golden hair.
Especially the direct line inherited red eyes, lending them a dangerous yet dignified air.
Combined with their exceptional intellect, they mediated between the imperial and noble factions.
Because of these traits, the ducal house was always busy.
Pretina, fresh from graduating the academy, assisted her father with his duties.
As the one called the next duke, she poured effort upon effort.
Considering her usual personality, it might seem implausible, but that's precisely why she tried so hard.
Nothing came free, and to maintain greatness, she couldn't rest even for a moment.
That was one of House Apontuna's rules.
But sometimes the body craved rest.
She knew proper breaks boosted work efficiency.
She leaned back in her chair for a moment and closed her eyes.
"Whew, this is tough."
Ding-a-ling.
Pretina rang the bell to summon the butler and ordered a cup of tea.
As she leaned back to rest again, he spoke.
"Miss. Are you perhaps not interested in the recently popular book?"
"Book?"
"Yes. It's called Sherlock Holmes. The one by that person you're interested in—"
"Wait. I get it, just bring it."
"Hehe, understood."
Chattering nonsense.
Pretina shot the butler a glare before closing her eyes again.
He smiled faintly and brought a cup of tea along with Sherlock Holmes.
"I'll set it here."
"Thanks. Go do your work."
"Yes. Have a pleasant time."
He bowed and left the room.
Finally alone, she could rest. She sighed.
"Edn... Tch, I said I'm not interested."
Pretina frowned as an annoyingly handsome face came to mind unbidden.
Edn, the man who'd given her her first humiliation at the academy.
She'd always been taught she was great, that only the imperial family stood above House Apontuna.
For such a Pretina, that first defeat was a truly fresh shock.
He was the man who'd pulled her down from what had seemed an eternal perch.
Perhaps because of that, just thinking of Edn's face made her chest tighten.
"Tch. He's a man I don't even see anymore."
Tsking once more, she suddenly recalled the book the butler had brought.
"Come to think of it, he said he wrote a book."
She'd said she wasn't interested, but her gaze kept drifting to it.
Curiosity about the contents won out, and she flipped it open with a rustle.
"Hm? This is..."
Reading it, she was surprised by how engaging it was.
It was astonishing that a man always holed up in his lab had this kind of talent.
"You always manage to surprise me."
She flew through the pages and finished it in an hour.
Closing the book, Pretina wore an odd expression.
"The writing's not bad, but some characters are hard to understand."
It was a different world from Pretina, born into greatness and living without hiding it.
If you sought the existence furthest from revenge, it'd be her house.
Even so, she knew people's lives varied.
"Sherlock Holmes, huh."
The Holmes in the novel was a figure of exceptional ability.
With keen observation uncovering facts even detectives missed, and brilliant deduction to boot.
His investigative methods were remarkably systematic and detailed.
"It's like a critique of current investigators."
Had he suffered some injustice from investigators?
Or from their superiors, the guard corps?
Either way, it pointed out flaws in present-day investigation methods.
"If it were Apontuna, we'd just throw people at it. No need for all this complication."
For Pretina, a member of House Apontuna, difficulties didn't exist.
Of course, one man kept flickering in her mind, but she'd treat that as an exception.
"Using a brilliant character seems like a narrative device."
Holmes's skills surpassed most people.
Perhaps he was one of a kind.
In other words, his methods could be split among multiple specialists.
But that would make it inconvenient to read.
Too many characters per scene would just tire the reader.
"Better to have one outstanding figure than split among many."
Hm, highlighting the importance of talent?
If such a person existed in reality, Apontuna would recruit them immediately.
To bolster the house's glory.
"Well, no one who could even touch the hem of our greatness exists in reality."
Pretina ignored Edn, who kept popping into her head.
She chalked it up to reading his book.
Instead, she examined the novel more, noting interesting parts.
She hadn't read many novels before.
Time spent on novels was better used reading documents or textbooks.
Because of that, she analyzed it as meticulously as work, scrutinizing details.
Then, at the part revealing the culprit's backstory, she looked puzzled.
"Couldn't this be seen as blasphemy?"
The persecuted gathering under religion, only to become like their persecutors.
And depicting all who opposed religion as heretics.
Of course, Edn had toned it down and adapted as much as possible, but some parts were unavoidable for the plot.
"Well, none of my business."
Edn would handle it fine.
Showing unfounded trust, she turned the page.
And achieved her own insight.
"No matter the backstory, it can't absolve crime. We can't just let someone like Jefferson Hope go free."
Apontuna had to be great.
And that extended to everywhere their power reached.
"A great sovereign must have fitting surroundings."
With power second only to the imperial family, Apontuna could influence many places.
So she planned to mention Sherlock Holmes to the duke.
It was a bit funny that she'd gotten the idea from a novel.
The scion of the empire's great house drawing inspiration from entertainment.
If a passerby heard, they'd scoff.
"No way that person would."
"Must be delirious from illness."
Even she thought it a bit embarrassing.
But greatness didn't come free.
To seize greatness, one must always move.
If an obstacle blocked the path to greatness, remove it—that was Apontuna's way.
This had nothing to do with Edn writing the book. Absolutely not.
"No reason for that."
Rather, it was probably her personality turning prickly since adulthood.
Book in hand, Pretina headed straight for the duke's office without hesitation.
Standing before the door, she knocked.
Knock knock—
"Father, ahem. Your Grace, I have something to discuss."