So, Why Did You Kill Holmes?
"So why did you kill Holmes?"
If moving people's hearts is a miracle in itself, then literature was the most powerful miracle of all.
"…Ah, come to think of it, it's about time for that episode in Sherlock Holmes to start serializing."
"That episode… ah."
Sion let out a sigh, as if he had a pretty good idea what I meant.
"The Empire's going to get noisy."
"The Half and Half president will have a tough time too…."
Literature has the power to move people's hearts.
And Sherlock Holmes was one of the most powerful works of literature.
Out of respect for the original author from my past life, I'd decided to play a little prank with the Sherlock Holmes serialization in this world.
"Wouldn't it be better to just reveal upfront that 'he didn't actually die'?"
"That'd ruin the fun."
"…Young master, sometimes your thinking is hard for me to follow."
"Honestly, even I don't fully get why I wrote stuff like this."
It was tough to understand the psychology of an author who penned such an entertaining work, only to abruptly end it because it no longer pleased them. But that, too, was a demonstration of literature's power to move people's hearts.
Conan Doyle had faced all sorts of backlash for killing off Sherlock Holmes. Even the Prince of Wales—who later ascended as Edward VII—sent a letter protesting the death. That said it all.
Conan Doyle himself had quipped:
"If I'd actually murdered a real person, I wouldn't have gotten this much hate."
He'd suffered greatly for killing Holmes. So as a plagiarist thief of his work, I felt a certain obligation to pay homage by gifting the people the same episode.
"But it'll be fun, right?"
"Is the 'fun' you're talking about plunging the Empire into chaos, young master?"
"Well, that sounds kinda fun too…."
"……."
I couldn't say watching people hyper-fixate on literature wasn't entertaining. Sure, I wanted them to treat novels as novels… but scenes like that—people genuinely immersing themselves and sharing the experience—were impossible to see in my past life's 21st century.
"It's kinda cute how people get all worked up and obsessed with literature."
"Cute… is it?"
If this was a 'miracle' unique to this world, it was worth savoring fully.
From the perspective of someone who'd devoted their life to literature and even died from overwork, it felt almost unfair if they didn't dive in deep.
Literature had been my entire life. So I wanted it to be theirs too—a bit childish, maybe.
"Sion, don't try to understand it logically. Feel it with your heart. Isn't it great if people get totally absorbed in literature?"
"That's true. It would be a step toward your goal, young master."
"Right?"
And I'd prepared a fun event for those hoping for Holmes' revival. It was going to be really entertaining.
Holmes was dead.
The entire Empire was plunged into shock.
"Huh, that's the end? No way, right? There has to be a next chapter…. 'Thank you for loving Holmes all this time'?"
"Ending it so abruptly? There must be some trick to it! It's not like Holmes has fooled us just once or twice!"
The American psychiatrist Kübler-Ross divided the acceptance of death into five stages. Readers' reactions to Holmes' death followed suit.
"Holmes… died…?"
First stage: Denial.
"Haha, it's not like we've fallen for Sherlock Holmes just once or twice while reading. He'll smack us on the head again and surprise us like always!"
"Right? No way Holmes dies so pointlessly! Haha!"
Second stage: Anger.
"Ending the story so suddenly like this? Does that even make sense?!"
"Killing Holmes! Damn it, how am I supposed to get through the week now?!"
Third stage: Bargaining.
"Wait, doesn't Herodotus run a foundation? If readers pool money for a donation and demand he revive Holmes, maybe he'll do it?"
"Good idea! But how do we collect the funds?"
Fourth stage: Depression.
"Thinking about a week without Holmes… I can't even eat."
"A world without Holmes isn't worth living in…!"
It should have led to the fifth stage, acceptance—but the one dying was Holmes, not the readers. They had no intention of accepting such a sudden death.
"No choice then—let's storm Half and Half!"
"Right! We storm Half and Half, grab Herodotus, lock him in the basement, and make him write all day!"
And so the people looped endlessly through the anger stage, fury boiling over.
Fortunately, no enraged readers turned into a mob and attacked Herodotus. He'd foreseen it all and instructed Half and Half to bolster security.
"Writer! Is this really okay?!"
"Hang in there a bit. In return, my next work is definitely with Half and Half."
"…Yes! Even if the mob kidnaps me, I'll keep the 'secret'!"
"If they kidnap you, just leak the manuscript early…."
"Little brother."
"Yeah, big bro."
"Why'd you kill Holmes?"
"Writer?"
"…Yes, princess."
"Why'd you kill Holmes?"
"Son."
"Yes, Father."
"Why'd you kill Holmes?"
"Writer! Pride and Prejudice is getting amazing reactions too!"
"Yes, President."
"But why'd you kill Holmes?"
"Did you come to ask why I killed Holmes too, Mother?"
"No, I got some snacks from the merchants and came to share."
"Ah, thank you."
"So why'd you kill Holmes?"
Everyone who knew my identity hit me with "Why'd you kill Holmes?"
Was this how Conan Doyle felt?
"This is kinda fun…."
"People are wearing black armbands on their left arms to mourn Holmes' death."
"No one's carrying a coffin to a funeral?"
"Seems like they're planning it. Some are pooling money."
"Good thing I'm not serializing under my real name."
Truly a relief. I had no desire to deal with threats and terror like Doyle.
"Well, it'll die down by tomorrow anyway."
Suppose someone owned all the copyrights and trademarks to Sherlock Holmes and Arsène Lupin. And that person could tweak their stories a bit. No one knows the originals except them.
Then attempting a 'prank' like this wouldn't be so strange, right?
Arthur Taylor rushed to the bookstore at dawn.
It was Half and Half publication day.
He snagged a copy before they sold out.
He flipped through quickly, checking for Sherlock Holmes first.
"Phew, no Sherlock Holmes after all. Guess I'll settle for Arsène Lupin today."
His favorite series had ended. As a reader, it was disappointing—but Arsène Lupin filled the void, soothing his heart.
Thinking that, he dove into Arsène Lupin—
"…Oh. Ohhh, oho?! Ha, haha! I knew it! I knew this would happen!"
He burst out laughing like a madman.
And why not?
"No way Sherlock Holmes dies so pointlessly!"
The Holmes everyone thought dead suddenly appeared in the Arsène Lupin series.
As Holmes fell from the waterfall, he noticed something huge—like a giant pigeon—catch him.
It was a person flying in a triangular wing made of white cloth and bamboo, worn like clothing.
Who introduced himself as:
"Curious why I'm helping you? Simple. Because I'm Lupin. Arsène Lupin, the gentleman thief."
The gentleman thief, Arsène Lupin.
Of course, the white hang glider was plagiarized from a detective manga in my past life—but no one here could call it out.
Thus, Sherlock Holmes made a spectacular revival.
And on the next page was this notice:
'Sherlock Holmes X Arsène Lupin' Secondary Creation Contest
We're seeking writers to craft stories in a world where both exist.
Following Homerus' Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde secondary creation contest.
Herodotus' Sherlock Holmes X Arsène Lupin secondary creation contest had begun.
"You pulled off something fun, huh?"
"Haha…."
"Reviving Sherlock Holmes so spectacularly… Now I look hasty for scolding you about killing him. Tch, my bad. For real."
"Sorry, princess."
"I'll forgive you this once."
"Thank you."
I no longer tensed up meeting Princess Is.
We'd gotten close. Probably.
"Getting beatified by the church, raising disciples… Life seems fun, huh?"
"Yes. Very enjoyable."
"But isn't it a bit unfair?"
"Pardon?"
"Nooo— You won the grand prize in the first contest, right? But the students invited to the literature academy are others. That's not fair!"
"…W-well, Princess Is probably doesn't have time—."
"I have tons of time now."
"Pardon?"
"Handover's done. Idris will handle all imperial duties from now on."
"……."
"So—take good care of me from here on out, teacher."