The Pearl of Resurrection
The Pearl of Resurrection. The one and only key. A mysterious gem imbued with the legend that merely holding it fills you with vitality. And it was the highlight item that the casino had ambitiously prepared for this auction.
Only one person could steal such a treasure right out from under the strictest security. The Phantom Thief Raven had once again made off with the gem, vanishing without a trace.
What mattered, of course, was how he did it.
"The security was perfect. The cops never took their eyes off the pearl, not even for a second during shift changes."
Gadget's desperate claim rang hollow in the current situation—it was just an excuse, nothing more.
"Then you must have seen exactly how it disappeared."
The phantom thief had already vanished completely, without so much as a glimpse of his form. Pursuit was realistically impossible now. At the very least, they had to figure out what trick he'd used to make off with the pearl.
Sherlock calmly gathered information and began her deductions.
"It just... vanished. Like it evaporated."
"Hmm..."
"Even I was baffled, and I was watching it right in front of me. How is that even possible?"
The most obvious possibility that sprang to mind was, of course, magic. But once again, the mana detection sensors threw a wrench in that. If there hadn't been any sensors, they could have chalked it up to magic and moved on without a second thought.
At this point, didn't they have to consider even unrealistic angles?
Raven can bypass mana detection sensors.
That was the most plausible hypothesis right now, even if they had no idea how. It was the simplest and most straightforward approach.
There was another possibility, too.
Raven didn't use magic at all.
Unlike the first, this was a difficult, thorny path. Intuitively, it was the kind of idea that made you shake your head.
But it couldn't be dismissed entirely. Everyone assumed the phantom thief was a mage, as if it were a given—even though he'd never once claimed to be one himself.
In truth, Raven's criminal tricks differed greatly from conventional magic. They were closer to illusions—stage magic, really.
And this time was no different. The pearl, plain as day in front of everyone's eyes, had vanished in an instant, as if it had evaporated into thin air.
If that wasn't sleight of hand, what was?
Still, they couldn't just throw in the towel. Sherlock decided to methodically eliminate the most straightforward options one by one.
"When exactly did the pearl disappear?"
"Right when it was covered with the cloth and brought up on stage to start the auction."
Anyone would find that the most suspicious moment. No matter how closely you watched with your own eyes, you couldn't confirm the pearl's presence the instant it was covered.
"And the person carrying it?"
"Already checked. One of my subordinates was disguised as a casino employee carrying it from the start."
"Could I speak with them?"
The person who had transported the pearl to the stage was a cop Gadget trusted implicitly. But Sherlock stubbornly insisted on questioning him herself.
"Fine, go ahead."
Gadget yielded to Sherlock's request like a drowning woman clutching at straws.
Soon, the summoned officer came rushing from the back and saluted his superior.
"You called, Chief?"
"Yeah, nothing major. Just join this young lady for a chat."
"Got it."
Sherlock wasted no time, firing off questions at the officer without hesitation.
"Did you keep watch over the pearl backstage too? Did you go anywhere or meet anyone today? Anything unusual when you carried it?"
Though flustered by the torrent of questions, the subordinate officer answered diligently.
After the interrogation, Sherlock's conclusion was not guilty—completely innocent.
Gadget glared at her subordinate and drove the point home.
"You disguised as the thief, or in cahoots with him?"
"No way! I'm telling you, I'm innocent!"
"See? He's not it."
"Argh!"
Gadget even pinched his cheek to prove it wasn't a disguise, then sent him away. That cleared the first suspicion. Next up...
"What about the chance it was a fake from the start?"
"Probably not. The appraiser confirmed it was real right before the auction."
"The appraiser could be the thief in disguise."
Gadget felt her head spinning. Did they really have to go that far? Well, this meticulous scrutiny was probably how she'd uncovered the thief's tricks before—ones they never noticed.
Just thinking back to how she'd decoded the notice the other day...
Ugh. Her mind reeled at the mere memory; she shook her head to banish it.
"Got it. Bring the appraiser here."
Moments later, a mild-mannered-looking appraiser arrived at the scene per the police request. The same thorough interrogation followed as with the officer.
But again, nothing suspicious turned up.
"What's next?"
Gadget's mind was drawing a blank for any more tricks. Honestly, why bother with all this hassle from the start? The simplest answer was staring them in the face.
"It's gotta be magic anyway. What's the point?"
"You can't just assume that."
Jumping to conclusions without evidence changed nothing. Even concluding it was magic required solid proof.
The investigation dragged on fruitlessly. Forced suspicions were quickly debunked, or turned out to be utterly implausible.
Naturally, the image of that man from earlier kept flickering in Sherlock's mind.
Arsene Lupin.
He was far too suspicious. Of course, his alibi was ironclad, making it impossible to name him a suspect. Her only "evidence" was gut instinct. In the current situation, he was just an unrelated third party.
"Looks like another bust today," Gadget muttered bitterly, lighting a cigarette.
They'd treated everyone at the scene as a suspect and launched an investigation, but found nothing incriminating. If someone had stolen it, the pearl should be on their person—but thorough searches turned up zilch.
They couldn't hold innocent citizens forever. It seemed today's investigation was wrapping up empty-handed.
"Chief, what now?"
"Check their IDs and let 'em all go. Tell them we might contact them later for follow-up."
"Yes, ma'am."
No matter how hard they tried to catch him, the gap between them and the thief only widened with each passing day. Now they hadn't even caught a glimpse of his face, suffering blow after blow without retaliation.
Looking back, it was absurd. Gadget let out a sigh that bordered on a hollow chuckle.
At this rate, the Executioners would snatch the investigation rights away. A true disgrace for a cop.
Just finish this smoke and head out.
Weeeeng! Weeeeng!
Suddenly, a blaring siren echoed from inside the building. Gadget stubbed out her cigarette in a panic and dashed into the auction hall.
"What the hell!?"
"Sorry. It must've reacted to my mana."
In the pitch-black darkness, emerald eyes gleamed with vivid light.
That's...
It was exactly the same glow she'd seen that night. Was it the same magic from back then?
The cops around the scene stared in awe. Of course they did—ordinary folks rarely got to witness magic in their lifetimes.
Soon, green light seeped from the magic circle drawn on the ground like rising heat haze. A bizarre yet awe-inspiring sight.
Only Sherlock and Gadget knew the true nature of that magic.
It was the spell she'd pored over stacks of books to unravel the phantom thief's riddle just days ago.
Every mage had their own signature unique magic, shaped by their personal mana circuit. A mage's skill was judged by how effectively they wielded it.
Sherlock's unique magic was Observation.
The girl focused intently on the space encompassed by the massive magic circle. With her glowing emerald eyes, she took in every detail of the landscape, missing not even the tiniest speck.
Of course, magic wasn't an all-purpose tool. It wasn't some miracle that solved everything at a snap.
It was akin to expending mana energy to reach into the world's fundamental fabric—a kind of distortion in reality.
Sherlock exhaled slowly and closed her eyes.
An empty void of darkness. She began filling it piece by piece with every element she'd observed, placing what should have been there back in its rightful spot.
Methodically narrowing it down until only one thing remained at the end.
She opened her eyes and murmured,
"Found it."
The magic circle vanished instantly, ending the spell. Sweat beaded on the girl's face unnoticed. Without a fuss, she stepped toward what she'd discovered.
In the corner lay something that looked, at first glance, like worthless trash.
But this was the one and only key to solving the case.
It was a small scrap of bandage.