Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability – Chapter 20

Episode 20 – Wagging My Tail

“Professor, I’m sorry, but I’m a bit tired right now.”

After withstanding Professor Moriarty’s ashen-gray gaze for quite some time, I finally spoke, slowly.

“It also seems you were in the middle of enjoying a drink.”

“………”

“So—could we postpone the answer to that question, and the report on this case, just a little?”

Even to me it didn’t sound like something that would fly, but I had to buy time somehow.

In a situation where a single misplaced word or a flicker of fear could cost me my life—

Exhausted from everything that had happened, a slip of the tongue would be the end.

So I needed even the briefest moment to get myself together.

“Ah, if that’s all, no problem.”

But the instant I saw the chilling smile curl Professor Moriarty’s lips, I had to abandon that hope on the spot.

“I always carry truth serum. You can talk in your sleep.”

‘…Damn.’

There would be no second chance.

If I delayed even a little in answering, I might be bidding this world farewell forever.

‘It was a trick I was still practicing.’

So I gathered mana into my eyes with everything I had and called up the pre-devised magic circle in my mind—

“If you’re that curious, I’ll just tell you now.”

“A sound decision.”

I stepped toward Moriarty and began in a low voice.

“Though, honestly, there isn’t much to explain.”

It was time to begin a “tail-wagging” with the fate of the world on the line.

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“You are everything to me, Professor.”

Isaac Adler said so, planting both hands on Professor Moriarty’s table, and continued.

“The core of my operating principle—the irreplaceable nucleus—is Professor Jane Moriarty, who is seated before me now.”

His heartfelt voice brushed her ear.

“I want to turn London into a kingdom of crime, Professor. And I want to see you upon that throne.”

“Why me?”

“Because I knew at first sight. That you, Professor, are the one fit for that seat.”

Isaac Adler’s eyes caught the dim lamp glow and gleamed.

“And that conviction—”

Moriarty tilted her head slightly as Adler rubbed his eyes, staring at her.

“—has not changed even once.”

When he raised his head a moment later, his irises—no longer their original blue—were clouding over to gray.

“…Mana erosion. I should think that’s proof enough.”

At the same time, he pointed to Professor Moriarty’s deep gray hair.

“I’m already dyed with you, Professor.”

Moriarty looked at Adler in silence.

Even now, in this situation, her expression was astonishingly unchanged.

Even had it been Charlotte standing there in Adler’s place, no one would have been able to read her true feelings.

“Do you, too, have a ‘curse’?”

“…Who knows? I’ll keep that as a secret for your amusement, Professor. What matters is that I move for you alone.”

But at the curious lilt in her voice, Adler felt a thread of hope and poured himself into his words.

“For example: in this case, staking my life to secure Lady Joan Clay, and claiming a vampire’s authority—both were to build an organization for you.”

“………”

“I overdid it in the process, but I won’t die yet. At least not before I make you the Napoleon of Crime.”

Moriarty’s brow twitched, ever so slightly.

“And what concerned Charlotte Holmes this time was also solely for you. She has the potential to be your worthy rival.”

“That unripe girl?”

Adler met her eyes squarely and answered.

“Professor, she will become our rival, without a doubt. London’s hope—the one who will wipe away your boredom and your appetites. That is Charlotte Holmes.”

“Uncharacteristically high praise from you.”

“If you were watching this case from afar, you must have roughly gauged her ability.”

Moriarty took his words with an intrigued smile.

“I did. She was certainly impressive. But still unripe. One would need to wait quite some time for her to become a well-ripened fruit.”

“Exactly.”

“Then you’ve begun to handle that fruit for an early harvest?”

“Strictly speaking, not ‘I’—I’m doing it for you, Professor. This case should have shortened the time to harvest.”

Catching his breath, Adler cast her a sidelong glance and spoke again.

“Do you see now?”

“………”

“That I am yours alone, and that everything I do, I do for you, Professor.”

Silence fell.

“Duly noted, Mr. Adler.”

After watching him wordlessly for a long beat, Moriarty raised the glass she’d been toying with.

“Care for a drink?”

“Professor, offering alcohol to a student?”

“I want to render you weak in body and mind.”

She flashed the same sunny smile as ever.

“In that state, what you say might differ from what you’ve said now.”

“Professor, I—”

“But for the moment, I’ll take you at your word.”

Adler shut his mouth, and Moriarty went on, looking pleased.

“To repeat—I’m ‘taking you at your word.’ Because you’re my cute assistant.”

Feeling as if she were dancing on the crown of his head, Adler forced a smile as a chill ran down his spine.

“Ah, and I recorded everything you said.”

“…Pardon?”

At that, the cracks began to show in his smile.

“I liked it—what you told me.”

“………”

“I wanted to leave it as binding evidence, so you couldn’t wriggle out of it later.”

She chuckled softly as she said it.

“So then, Mr. Adler—whose property are you?”

“…Professor’s property.”

The instant Adler answered the playful question without thinking—

“Then why did you consume your lifespan without my permission.”

Her voice turned suddenly glacial.

“Professor, that was…”

“Your remaining lifespan and your life are wholly mine. That is the contract between us.”

“As I said, it was all within my calculations. So there’s no need to—”

“That is not the point.”

Adler shut his mouth, and Moriarty continued, quietly.

“The very fact that my property—your lifespan—was consumed, even a minute or a second, for someone else… I find it extremely displeasing. Vile, even.”

“………”

“Especially since it was spent on that rude, gloomy little detective.”

She smiled again, serenely.

“Don’t do it again.”

“…Understood, Professor.”

When Adler, looking utterly drained, nodded, she gestured to him.

“Mr. Adler. Come sit by me.”

“…Ma’am?”

Befuddled, he dragged a chair to her side and sat. Moriarty whispered in a low voice:

“Stay right here, beside me.”

“…Until when?”

“Until I finish reviewing this report.”

She handed him the stack of reports in front of her, and his gaze wavered quietly.

“You’re joking, right?”

“The door lock won’t be released until the review is done.”

And so began a stretch of time that was nothing short of hell for Adler.

“Mr. Adler.”

“…Mmh. What is it, Professor.”

Half-asleep, he was stamping approvals on the reports when Moriarty’s voice made him respond reflexively.

“Break up with Miss Diana Wilson.”

“…I was planning to anyway.”

He lifted sleepy eyes to her and added:

“There will be countless cases waiting for us. I can’t be a lover to every client.”

“………”

“Except in rare, special cases that benefit the organization—like the Queen of Bohemia or Lady Clay—I intend to tidy up relations once per case.”

“A good plan. If you didn’t, I’d have no choice but to kill.”

“Professor.”

He sighed at that and looked straight at her.

“I don’t know who you meant by ‘kill,’ but if you meant me, that’s not much of a threat.”

“Why not?”

“Because being killed by you would be an honor to me.”

Jane Moriarty, who had kept her blank expression until now, fixed him with a stare.

“If you want to threaten me, say you’ll sever the contract and throw me away.”

Stretching, he missed her look and murmured in a drowsy voice:

“Anyway… I’m hitting my limit…”

His head began to nod.

“Professor… I’m sorry, but…”

“Mr. Adler?”

“I’ll just rest a bit…”

After a day of being run ragged by everyone, he fell asleep in an instant.

““………””

Silence unfurled.

— 스륵…

In that hush, Jane Moriarty gently stroked the corner of the sleeping Adler’s eye.

“Yes. Look closely, and they are surely gray.”

She stared into his eyes without blinking until dawn; just before leaving for class, she murmured:

“…Except for the streaks of black here and there.”

Between her and him, a certain detective with short black hair floated through Moriarty’s mind.

[Villain Maker: 51% -> 75%]

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[Villain Maker: 51% -> 75%]

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Early morning. When I opened my eyes in Professor Moriarty’s office, the first main quest had once again leapt forward by a huge margin.

[It’s cold out. Take care of yourself.]

On my palm lingered Professor Moriarty’s message, and over my body, her coat.

“How gracious.”

— 띠링!

As I rubbed at my inexplicably gritty eyes and muttered, a jaunty chime sounded before me.

[Would you like to check your current Reputation?]

[Y/N]

Still half-asleep, I stared blankly at the message I’d put off checking yesterday, then reached out without much thought.

‘No harm in checking.’

It was still early days, so nothing much could have happened—surely.

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(snipped)

[Gia Lestrade is tailing you.]

[Mycroft Holmes is watching you closely.]

[Phantom Thief Lupin has taken note of your existence.]

[??? feels a powerful killing intent toward you.]

[Chance of being imprisoned: 36%] [Chance of being kidnapped: 21%]

[Chance of being killed: 69%] [Chance of being entangled in crime: 99%]

“…Fantastic. Just great.”

I should’ve left it unchecked.

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