Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability – Chapter 16

Episode 16 — The Red Mana League (5)

Getting into Auguste Academy was easier than expected.

Of course, with Adler skipping without leave and Holmes an outsider, there were plenty of hurdles to entering by legitimate means.

“Even so, shouldn’t we at least change clothes separately?”

“………”

“Miss Holmes?”

But on Adler’s side was a great actor and virtuoso of disguise magic, and on Holmes’s side London’s top detective, with concealment skills to match.

“Is it really okay for a detective to do this?”

“…A detective is a creature that tiptoes the razor’s edge between lawful and unlawful.”

In just a few minutes, they emerged from a public restroom near the academy looking like perfectly ordinary freshmen, slipped past security, and strolled inside without a hitch.

“Miss Holmes.”

To avoid rousing the idle curiosity of aimless would-be sleuths, the two held hands to hide the cuffs and headed for the basement.

“You haven’t seemed quite yourself for a while.”

“…Really?”

As they walked, Adler asked Holmes at his side in a low voice,

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Who knows.”

She answered with a touch of coolness that hadn’t been there before.

“Did it offend you that much—me saying, as an assistant, I’d protect the detective?”

“As if, Mr. Adler.”

Holmes quickened her pace, a chilly smile at her lips.

“I’m positively delighted right now.”

“Mm…”

Thinking something was off, Adler scratched his head, then quietly smiled.

“Well, whatever the reason—here we are at last.”

He reached out and pointed ahead.

“This is the basement Miss Wilson has been working in for a week.”

A dark cellar, entirely deserted.

Unlike in the old days, when nothing but dust lay about, the floor now crawled with complex equations, steeping the air in an occult reek.

“As you can see, there’s… a lot.”

“………”

“This is probably the last place we can find a real thread. So…”

Cautiously taking it in, Adler stepped forward—

“Hm?”

—but could go no farther.

Still cuffed to him, Holmes had halted and gone stock-still.

“………”

Her eyes were quietly shining.

“Miss Holmes?”

When Charlotte Holmes comes face-to-face with decisive evidence, she unconsciously slips into a kind of trance.

Time and sensation in the world around her slow to a crawl; her already keen faculties climb to the limit.

Normally she can only enter that private world by sitting for a long time in her armchair, focusing—or by borrowing the hallucinatory effects of mana stones.

Yet now, for some reason, Holmes stood ramrod straight and fell into that world on her feet.

“Miss Holmes. Miss Holmes.”

—poke, poke…

Even as Adler, curious, prodded her cheek.

“Snap out of—”

He gingerly tugged at Charlotte Holmes’s soft cheek when—

“…Urk.”

All at once she jabbed his side with the cigarette holder pulled from her breast, then raised it to her lips.

“…That sort of thing isn’t good for you. Especially for a body in mana addiction.”

Rubbing his side as he straightened, Adler snatched the holder from her hand.

“That’s not a cigarette. It’s an antidote for mana addiction.”

“Masking addiction symptoms with nicotine isn’t what anyone would call an antidote, Miss Holmes.”

“Are you… worried about me right now?”

Adler smiled and answered her question.

“You’ve looked awfully tired for a while.”

In his eyes, Charlotte’s gaze looked badly worn—whether from a day on her feet or something more.

“If your baseline health is that poor, of course you tire easily. You should go away to convalesce.”

“…Ha.”

Adler meant it as heartfelt counsel, but at that she gave him another chilly smile.

“Even for an actor, you keep up the performance in a situation like this?”

“Pardon?”

“…Forget it.”

Hands clasped behind her back, Holmes walked on.

“Was it because I enjoyed our time together so much? Or because my heart pounded every time you posed a riddle?”

“I’m flattered…”

“And that’s why—I wanted to play just a little longer with you.”

She stopped at the very center of the cellar.

“Mr. Adler, it seems you’d like to end this ‘game’ now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I thought we could be good to each other.”

When Adler tilted his head in honest confusion, Holmes let out a small, dry laugh.

“Well, there’s no point saying it.”

“……?”

“Let’s solve the final riddle, Mr. Adler.”

The “Red Mana League” case was heading for its endgame.

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“At first I deduced that Joan Clay was after the bank’s basement.”

Standing before Adler, Holmes began to lay out her reasoning.

“Working part-time at the pawnshop right next to the bank under suspicious terms—I figured she meant to dig a tunnel.”

“So that’s why you went to the pawnshop the moment you took the case, Miss Holmes.”

“Yes. But since the pawnshop owner hardly ever leaves the premises, they needed another means to infiltrate the bank. The academy basement was the optimal place to lay a teleportation array.”

“In that case, of course they’d have to remove Miss Wilson—who lived there—or win her over.”

As Adler nodded along and echoed her, a flicker of delight returned to Holmes’s eyes.

“I thought you’d been hired to win her over.”

“Mm.”

“Rather than take needless risks, you coax her—have her draw the teleportation array in the basement herself. Simple.”

But then her gaze went cold again.

“Only my deduction was overturned by a single fact.”

“Because there was nothing stored in the City & Suburban Bank’s basement?”

“Yes. To quote you—our premise was flipped. It threw me at first, but…”

“Turn the perspective over, and the answer comes quickly enough. Isn’t that right?”

At Adler’s whisper over her words, Holmes stared at him, then nodded and spoke.

“Joan Clay’s objective wasn’t the basement. That was a feint. Her aim was to make Diana Wilson, of her own will, draw the magic circle—that, in itself.”

“You said as much earlier. But you didn’t present the grounds.”

“…Because I didn’t have the proof.”

In a teacher’s gentle tone, Adler asked,

“Now that you’ve seen the proof with your own eyes—can you give the grounds?”

“Of course.”

Her eyes were still cool as she answered—but a strange heat burned in them.

A prodigy who, thanks to inborn talent and temperament, had grown any which way without anyone’s instruction.

Now, for the first time, that prodigy had met a mentor who matched her level; it was only natural her feelings ran out of control.

“I just now uncovered Miss Wilson’s true nature.”

Holmes watched Adler’s reaction and added,

“She’s a vampire.”

Adler’s smile turned faint and knowing.

“And not just any—she’s a pure-blood vampire, thought to be extinct.”

“What are the grounds?”

“Think why Lady Clay worked at the pawnshop for half pay.”

As if wanting to savor the moment longer, Holmes slowed her speech.

“If she wasn’t trying to dig a tunnel, then she could only have business with the owner and her daughter, Miss Wilson.”

“Hm.”

“Mrs. Wilson, the pawnshop owner, hasn’t stepped outside once in three years, correct?”

“How did you learn that?”

“Knocking on doors is detective work 101. Just by simple Q&A with those around the scene, you can uncover a lot.”

Holmes wasn’t filled with her usual superiority and omnipotence; her heart swam with different feelings.

“Unlike the half-blood vampires like Lady Joan Clay, awakened pure-bloods are fatal to sunlight.”

“And?”

“Before I met you, I got testimony from alley vagrants.”

She was speaking to the man who’d conceived all this and deduced even unforeseen variables several times faster than she had.

She wanted his recognition, to stand together—while yearning one day to surpass him.

“The pawnshop owner slips out in the deep of night.”

“That alone isn’t sufficient proof.”

“I have more.”

Even though she had realized what he meant to do to her at the end—

Right now, she couldn’t still her heart.

“Miss Wilson said that during the interview, ‘red mana’ gushed from her hand. At first I thought that was Lady Clay’s trick.”

“Why?”

“Because while talking to me, I sensed a faint mana-stone reaction from Miss Wilson’s hand.”

Holmes lit a faint red mana with the stone in her ring and continued,

“I may not look it, but I’m an expert in mana stones. I can detect it even days later.”

“I see.”

“When she shook hands with Lady Clay in the interview room, I believe the lady smeared mana-stone powder on her palm.”

“Hm.”

“Use the powder as a medium, interfere with the mana remotely, and recolor it red. That way, you give Miss Wilson cause to enter the club. Quite plausible, no?”

When Adler nodded, Holmes cut the air with a finger.

“But that wasn’t it. Miss Wilson said her mana was a ‘fiery red.’”

“She said that too, did she.”

“A ‘fiery red’ is hard to produce by remote control. Overlaying it on top of orange mana and making it bloom—near impossible even for me.”

“Then how did Miss Wilson wield red mana?”

“That is further proof she’s a vampire.”

Holmes swelled the red mana and went on,

“The role of the mana-stone powder wasn’t ‘mana-jacking,’ but a detonator.”

“You’re saying the mana stone amplified the vampire’s mana hidden in Miss Wilson’s body?”

“Exactly.”

“But the grounds are still thin.”

At that, Holmes drew something from her breast.

“Decisively—Miss Wilson’s health declined sharply in the past few days she’s been writing the circle.”

“What’s that?”

“Look at the spacing of the sand sticking to the glass.”

Staring at the hourglass—which showed her remaining lifespan dropping fast—Holmes glanced over Adler’s shoulder at the sigil on the floor.

“Mr. Adler. I’m not a mana user; I can’t read that circle.”

“Yes—a shame.”

“But considering the purpose of the group led by Lady Joan Clay—the ‘Red Mana League’—you don’t have to be a mana user to guess the function of that circle.”

Her breathing hitched.

“The aim of the Red Mana League is to restore the age of vampires in London.”

“………”

“Miss Wilson, a pure-blood by lineage and yet unawakened—would be the perfect sacrifice.”

At that, Adler looked down at Holmes with a fond, approving gaze.

“My mana-stone ring is reacting violently to that circle. Which tells me that tiny circle holds a terrifying amount of energy.”

“Hrrm.”

“From here it’s my conjecture, but Miss Wilson has probably been storing the vampire’s powers in that circle, without realizing it, over the past week.”

The corners of his mouth began to rise.

“Lady Clay isn’t the sort to scheme for someone else’s benefit. If she approached Europe’s last pure-blood vampire—who had been lying low and causing no fuss—it was to seize that power, surely.”

Her deduction was nearing the terminus.

“And she’ll be here soon.”

Charlotte met Adler’s eyes and whispered,

“Because today, you dissolved the club.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Dissolving the club means they don’t need Miss Wilson anymore. Which is to say, the circle is complete. Isn’t that right?”

The moment she finished—

“There—that’s Holmes.”

Adler muttered with a look of real relief.

“So it was the game’s story that was the problem. The great Charlotte Holmes—no way she fails to solve a case like this.”

“…Pardon?”

“Damn those story-department bastards.”

At his sudden, incomprehensible grumble, Holmes cocked her head; Adler coughed and spoke again.

“Then it’s my turn to ask a question.”

Holmes tilted her head.

“Why do you say I want to end ‘this game’?”

“………”

“I don’t think of it as a game, but I’m curious why you’d think so.”

Holmes answered with a cynical look,

“It’s simple.”

“Meaning…?”

“From the moment you said you’d protect me no matter what, you started quietly casting a sleep spell on me.”

“Pardon?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice because I’m not a mage?”

Adler stared at her, eyes round.

“And at the same time, we picked up a tail. The killing intent was so thick, it would’ve been impossible not to notice.”

“A tail?”

“Drop the act, Mr. Adler. I already know your tail neutralized all the police I’d set up in advance.”

The accumulated strength of the sleep spell began to weigh down Holmes’s eyelids.

“I was hoping for some kind of twist, but it seems there isn’t one.”

“No, wait—”

“In the end, you’re just another criminal.”

Staggering, Holmes lost her balance; Adler hastily gathered her into his arms.

“It may not be a normal relationship, but I thought we could still be good to each other.”

“Listen—”

“I even considered hiring you as my assistant.”

With her eyes half-lidded, Holmes looked up at him and spat the line out.

“But to you, I was just a toy to enjoy once and throw away.”

Her eyes shut completely.

“…Disappointing.”

At that last word, spoken as she slipped under, Adler went slack-faced—

—screee…

The door to the cellar opened; someone stepped in.

“Good work, Mr. Adler.”

The client—Lady Clay—approached them with a seductive smile.

“There was a meddler, so I removed them. You don’t mind, do you?”

Adler’s expression tightened.

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“………”

Charlotte Holmes hung limp in Adler’s arms.

To anyone, she looked utterly, unmistakably unconscious.

‘…Good.’

Amazingly, she was whispering to herself within that state.

‘So far, so according to plan.’

The draw she took from Adler’s side with the “cigarette holder” minutes ago hadn’t been smoke.

What she inhaled was a mana gas that induces catalepsy.

Before the sleep spell could take, Holmes had deliberately intoxicated herself on the vapors and put herself in a deathlike state.

‘The chance will come.’

She’d stumbled on that useful compound during mana-stone research; she’d used it often—once even in the “Bohemia Queen Scandal,” when she’d feigned death disguised as a nun.

Back then she’d taken it as a drug and couldn’t rise at will.

But after the fire incident and continued research, she developed an improved formula that solved the “can’t wake” flaw. Give it a little longer and she could move freely.

‘I’ll have to strike at the moment Lady Joan Clay absorbs the mana.’

Even for a vampire, absorbing a power that massive leaves you exposed.

Aim for that opening, strike—and she might subdue the woman more easily than one would think.

‘Next is Isaac Adler.’

If it went that far, victory would be hers.

Isaac Adler might be a mage, and his wits might match hers, but his fighting ability was poor.

And she’d simulated a fight with him in her head countless times already.

In every scenario, she could win.

‘…What a shame.’

Steadying her mind, Holmes thought:

‘Your hourglass is almost done because you’ll lose to me here, isn’t it.’

Aiding a vampire means execution, high or low.

Old and dust-covered, but still on the books.

‘If you were going to abandon me after showing me such fun, you should have left me to die in the flames that day.’

Thinking how nice it would have been if he’d thought of her as amusement to savor long-term, she pricked up her ears at the voices slipping in.

“You were tailing us, then.”

“I hired you, and you stuck to a girl like that—how could I not keep tabs.”

With no idea of the look she would be wearing a few minutes hence.

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“Why did you cast a sleep spell? Calling it a ‘sleep spell’ is generous—that’s addiction. It’s terrible for the body of the one subjected to it.”

“Hm?”

At my heated tone, Lady Clay cocked her head.

“She’ll be dead anyway. What does it matter?”

“…Dead?”

“I’ve always wanted to try drinking once I became a pure-blood. I don’t love that she’s pickled in mana, but I can’t touch you—you’re under contract.”

At that, something snapped.

“I put the police waiting outside to sleep. No one will be coming here for a while.”

“………”

“As for my real plan—I was going to explain, but it seems you worked it out.”

When I came to, I was already speaking to her in a voice gone cold.

“The moment your objective was exposed, you commissioned a fake job to ‘rob a bank’—to misdirect us and the detective both, while using me to the end to secure Miss Wilson’s power.”

“……?”

“Just what I’d expect from the fourth-smartest woman in London.”

Lady Clay frowned.

“Fourth…? What’s that supposed to—”

“But.”

I had no intention of humoring her.

“You’ve made two grave mistakes.”

“I don’t know what those are, but I wouldn’t step on that circle if I were you.”

As I moved forward, she drawled,

“A mortal like you can’t withstand it. Brush it by accident and you’ll be on borrowed time.”

I looked at her and answered,

“First—failing to trust our criminal consultation service, and trying to use us as you pleased.”

“…Were you listening to me?”

“Second—”

Quietly, I shrugged off my coat and wrapped it around the Charlotte in my arms.

“Daring—without knowing your place—to lay hands on London’s hope.”

The price for ignorantly messing with my favorite character would be very, very dear.

“Holmes isn’t someone the likes of you can do anything about.”

I took a step forward; mana flared at my foot as it touched the circle, burning like fire.

“Fool.”

Lady Clay smirked at the sight.

“Got attached, did you, to that little brat you’ve been dragging around?”

She sat on a nearby chair, crossed her legs, made no move to counter.

“Forget your contract and throw away your life—it’s laughable, really.”

I could see why she’d react that way.

An enemy with golden mana—opposed to her own—who might have been a nuisance had he been careful, had willingly leapt onto a path of death. How funny that must look.

“It can’t be helped.”

There was one thing she didn’t know.

“To protect what matters most, sometimes you lay down your life.”

That I was the one who designed this world’s magic.

“Carve this deep in your heart.”

It was time to show the arrogant vampire the greatness of her creator.

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—bzzz…

“………?”

But why has Charlotte, in my arms, been trembling like this for a while now?

Making me worry for nothing.

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