Episode 12 — The Red Mana League
“Mr. Adler. Do you know what’s the easiest thing in the world to deduce?”
The morning of the second day after we took our first case.
“What would that be.”
“Whether someone likes you or hates you.”
Walking a corridor of the academy with Professor Moriarty, she said it to me with a smile playing on her lips.
“And why is that?”
“Take a look around.”
For a moment I wondered what she meant, but when I quietly swept my eyes about as she’d said, I understood.
“…You’re right.”
Most of the boys in the hall—and half the girls—were glaring at me as if I were some sort of bug as they passed.
And the other half of the girls were blushing and avoiding my eyes.
“The reason you haven’t been killed yet is because you’ve got half the women of London on your side.”
“That makes no sense.”
“As expected of the finest former child actor who stole the hearts of women all across Europe.”
At first I took it for yet another one of her jokes and meant to ignore it—until what she said next made me halt mid-stride.
“But as an actor, I rate your acting even higher than your looks.”
“……….”
“Because you kept that frightening nature hidden until now, and only when you met me did you show it for the first time.”
Professor Moriarty’s eyes were glinting dark again.
“Mr. Adler. Then why did you bare your nature to the girl called Charlotte?”
“…That’s a misunderstanding, Professor.”
Sensing an undefined sense of danger in what followed, I shook my head quickly and answered.
“I’ve only ever shown my nature to you, Professor.”
“Then why is she showing signs of obsession with you?”
“Because she’s a genius like you. She must have caught the scent.”
At that, Moriarty stopped her habitual head-tilt and simply stared straight at me.
“I may have to double as Charlotte’s assistant as well. Of course, if she were to uncover what I am…”
I was watching her and, to ease the mood, cracked a smile and tossed the joke—
[Villain Maker: Professor Moriarty’s advent plausibility satisfied]
[Progress 12% -> 15%]
—when a message suddenly floated up before my eyes.
“…You know I was joking, Professor?”
Her eyes were still dark even with that fresh smile on her face, so cold sweat trickled as I hurried to explain.
“We already signed a contract, and I even swore by mana. I belong only to you, Professor…”
“Once this case is finished, I plan to begin a long-term research project.”
“Pardon?”
Thunder out of a clear sky struck me.
“It’s going to be a grueling line of research, so you’ll have no choice but to sleep in my lab for a while.”
“……….”
“Well, isn’t that good? Safer from assassins. And we won’t be interrupted by a mana-addicted detective.”
Because of one careless mouth, I suddenly found myself saddled with graduate-student duties; even so, I could only force a smile and answer.
“I’m truly delighted, Professor.”
“Ha-ha.”
Next time I should try thinking before I speak.
“…Anyway, we’re almost there.”
Firming up that resolve, I quickened my pace—and spotted our client sitting in the lounge ahead. I lowered my voice and began whispering to Professor Moriarty.
“As I said earlier, you should draw up the overall plan, Professor. I’ll simply act according to the plan you make.”
At that, the frightening air from before vanished without a trace, and like a child at a theme park, Moriarty’s face lit with excitement.
“My heart is racing for the first time in ages. It feels as if I’ve come to an amusement park made just for me.”
“Because it actually is an amusement park made for you, Professor.”
This rookie criminal consultant, laying her excitement bare, would one day become the empress of London’s underworld—able to run the city without my help.
I might be the only one who will ever see this fresh, innocent side of her.
‘Somehow it feels like I’m playing a princess-raising sim.’
As that silly thought flitted by, I walked over to our client, Lady Clay, and murmured inwardly,
‘But how did that ending go again.’
I seem to recall the moral being that the more carefully you raise her, the more careful you must be at the end.
.
.
.
.
.
“Ah—h-hello… Y-you’re a little late…”
As Moriarty and Adler approached, Lady Clay—affecting the false identity of Victoria Spaulding—fidgeted with her fingers and greeted us.
“T-that… You remember what we discussed last time…”
“I’ve cast a cognitive dissonance spell over the surroundings. You can speak freely.”
“…Tch. You should have said so from the start.”
But when Adler, having come up to the table, said that, she slipped off the glasses she’d been wearing, crossed one leg over the other, and put on a face gone cold.
“Before you speak, kiss my ring. Then kneel, and pay me homage with proper decorum.”
“I’d be honored to once I become your retainer.”
“Royal blood flows in my veins. A lowly thing like you doesn’t have the right to refuse.”
“At first you should rebel in ignorance; it makes it all the sweeter when you’re made to submit later, My Lady.”
Lady Clay twisted her lips at that.
“Somehow that sounds like you’re saying it to me.”
“Perish the thought. Anyway, let’s stop tearing into each other on the same side and get to the point, shall we?”
“Haa.”
At Adler’s suggestion—made while stealing a glance at Moriarty’s unreadable smile—the lady sighed and quietly straightened her posture.
“First you should understand what you’re to target.”
She pointed to the window behind us.
“What I want lies right there.”
A massive bank under heavy guard came into Moriarty and Adler’s view.
“The City & Suburban Bank.”
“Yes. As I said yesterday, London’s finest bank.”
“Then, student, are you planning to rob that bank?”
“‘Rob’ is such a crude word.”
Prickled by Moriarty’s phrasing, she corrected herself.
“…I simply intend to recover a certain item kept in that bank’s underground vault.”
“And what is that item?”
At that question, Lady Clay’s eyes went red in an instant.
“Need-to-know.”
She glared at the two as if to say not to pry further, then continued in a low voice.
“But if I put my hands on it, it’s certain the age of vampires will return to all Europe.”
“Just thinking about it gives me chills.”
“Enough. Will you tell me now?”
Ignoring Adler’s quip, she fixed them both with a stare and began to press.
“Why is it that my plan will fail?”
“Before I explain that, tell us the plan you’ve devised.”
“You are a tedious man.”
With a put-upon look, she pulled a map from her bosom and spread it on the table, then began her explanation in a haughty tone.
“According to this map, the building closest to the bank is right here.”
She pointed to a spot she’d circled beforehand.
“The pawnshop on Covent Street.”
“They’re practically back-to-back.”
“I’m already working there part-time under the identity of Victoria Spaulding.”
Moriarty smiled and asked,
“And while working part-time you mean to dig through the ground in the cellar whenever you can?”
“…Not bad.”
“A noble duke’s daughter, spattered with dirt and shoveling—hard to picture.”
“It’s simple, but the most certain method.”
With a faint blush, Lady Clay pressed on.
“I’ve been working hard for half wages, and the pawnshop owner trusts me completely. And I can use pulverization magic.”
“………..”
“Even if I did it alone, I’d finish within a few months. So, no matter how I think about it, the only help I need from you is to help me dig.”
Finishing her explanation, she lifted her chin with an arrogant look.
“So? Isn’t it about time you told me?”
A smile touched Lady Clay’s lips as she looked between the two.
“What flaw do you see in this perfect plan?”
Silence began to flow.
“If there isn’t one, then you can fulfill the contract here and now.”
Wearing the expression of someone who’d expected this, she thrust the hand bearing her ring toward Adler and commanded,
“Kiss me.”
But for some reason, Adler only smiled calmly.
“What are you waiting for—swear your obedience.”
She flared and started to rise—
“If you break the contract, I won’t just sit—”
“Your plan has a fatal flaw.”
Professor Moriarty cocked her head and began to speak slowly.
“First, there’s a high chance someone will notice the odd passage you’ve opened before the work is finished.”
“What?”
“You were going to use pulverization magic to make a large tunnel, and then use mana stones to suspend the earth so it wouldn’t collapse, weren’t you?”
“H-how did you…”
“Anyone could deduce it by checking your first-year course records and your requisitions for supplies.”
She tapped the table with a finger and murmured.
“But because of a trait of a vampire’s red mana, you won’t be able to modulate its force.”
“………..”
“As a result, if a large cavity is formed without proper supports, even a tap of a staff could make a loud, ringing noise.”
Lady Clay lowered her gaze and knit her brows.
“And if a big carriage happened to pass overhead right around completion, suspicion would run rampant.”
“T-that’s far-fetched. I’m aware of it too, but it’s not a place with heavy foot traffic.”
She bit her lip and tried to retort.
“And, worst case, I can just reduce the diameter. It’ll take longer, but—”
“There’s one more decisive problem.”
When Moriarty named the next issue, Lady Clay could only close her mouth.
“Have you ever seen Mrs. Wilson, the pawnshop owner, go out?”
“That…”
“Think back. I doubt even once.”
Lady Clay rifled her memory, then spoke with a face that said Surely not.
“Come now—even so, a person must go out once in a while.”
“According to those around her, she hasn’t left the premises even once in the past three years.”
“…What?”
Shock painted Lady Clay’s features at Moriarty’s words.
“How could a person… No, wait. How do you know Mrs. Wilson?”
“For a student, your plan was high-level—but to me it looks no different from a child’s make-believe.”
“What kind of nonsense is that…”
“I didn’t take a single step out of my office yesterday, and yet I still saw through your plan completely.”
At that decisive remark, Lady Clay squeezed her eyes shut and set her jaw in frustration.
“But you’re fortunate. Because you’ve met me.”
“……….”
“From here on, we will take over your plan. You’ve no objection, I trust?”
When Moriarty asked her that, Lady Clay rose and gave a quiet nod.
“Then we’ll be in touch soon.”
She turned to leave, and at Moriarty’s relaxed words, answered in a low voice,
“If you fail, you’ll take responsibility.”
A thin, sly smile curled at her lips as she said it.
“Bear that in mind.”
.
.
.
.
.
“So, what do you intend to do now, Professor?”
Even after Lady Clay left, Professor Moriarty sat drumming her fingers on her knee for quite some time, lost in thought.
“Don’t worry. After staying up all night thinking, I found a way to infiltrate the bank without going through that pawnshop.”
Her posture was much like Holmes’s when she’s deep in thought. I ventured a gentle question, and at last Moriarty smiled and began to speak.
“By pure coincidence, there is one other space in London whose elevation matches the bank basement’s coordinates exactly.”
“And where is that?”
“The basement beneath the Auguste Academy dormitory. It’s where a student—who can’t afford the dorm fees—has been allowed to stay.”
With that, Moriarty took a document from her breast and handed it to me.
“As it happens, she’s the daughter of the pawnshop owner our client works for. Mrs. Wilson’s daughter.”
From behind the sheet—with the photo of a gloomy-looking girl with orange hair—Moriarty’s eyes flashed cold.
“Isn’t that a delicious coincidence.”
“…It is.”
Of course I knew the reason for that “coincidence,” but since Professor seemed to be enjoying herself, I let it alone.
Besides, for her to grow, she needed to be able to uncover on her own at least the riddles our clients intentionally hide.
“Since the elevation coordinates are the same, with the math done right we can complete a teleportation array in no time. The academy is awash in mana stones whose usage we can forge as needed, so at most it will take two weeks.”
“In other words, it’s the optimal place from which to infiltrate the bank.”
“But for now, it’s the worst place.”
“And why is that?”
At that, Professor Moriarty gestured for me to flip the page.
“As the file says, Miss Diana Wilson—who lives in that basement—suffers from severe anthropophobia and a communication disorder.”
“Hm.”
“I once tried speaking to her out of curiosity. She practically jumped out of her skin and bolted into her room. Odd girl—sometimes she doesn’t even attend class and holes up in her room all day.”
“In that case, for the same reason as the pawnshop, it’ll be hard to draw a magic circle there.”
She shook her head quietly.
“There’s no such thing as impossible, Mr. Adler.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear.”
“So long as you’re involved.”
“…Pardon?”
I was about to nod with satisfaction when she suddenly pointed at me and whispered.
“Miss Wilson in the dorm basement is a girl.”
“Hold on.”
“And you are London’s foremost specialist in female students.”
“Just a second.”
Impossible.
I was the one who said I’d do as Professor Moriarty directed, but this—this is impossible.
“Begin at once. Today.”
I’ve lived buried in work and never even had a proper romance, and now I’m supposed to seduce a girl?
And not just any girl—a shut-in with severe anthropophobia and a communication disorder.
“Mr. Adler. Didn’t you say you would follow my instructions exactly.”
“Professor, isn’t there another—”
“To uncover the secret our client is hiding, you’ll have to give it your all.”
Even so, I couldn’t refuse her request.
I’d worked hard to raise her affection and trust; I didn’t want to end up stuffed and mounted in her office.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Grinding my teeth, I gave a silent nod. Moriarty’s eyes darkened again as she whispered low.
“Needless to say, do not give her your heart.”
“……….”
“Graduate students have no right to romance.”
I nodded again at the quip, then let out a long sigh and stood.
‘Maybe I should just become Lady Clay’s retainer as I am.’
Seduce a shut-in girl in two weeks?
No matter how I turned it over in my head, I couldn’t see a way.
.
.
.
.
.
Exactly two weeks later—
“H-h-help me, please…!”
A girl burst without warning into the boarding house at 221B Baker Street and, with a desperate face, pleaded with Charlotte Holmes.
“Yes, first, please calm down. Would you like a cigarette—”
“M-Mr. Adler is in danger!”
“…Pardon?”
Reclining on the sofa and trying to soothe her with a relaxed air, Charlotte slowly scrunched up her face at those words.
“I’ll give you anything. I have nothing, but I’ll even give you my life…”
Despite that, the girl—Miss Diana Wilson, a second-year at Auguste Academy—choked out her plea in a quaver.
“Please, save him…”
Thus rose the curtain on the incident that would later be called the “Red Mana League.”