Chapter 24

24. "Maserati! Maserati!"

As soon as my phone displayed "Manga preview updated," I hurried to find somewhere to sit down and read it carefully.

Ideally, I would have taken out a notebook, carefully analyzed the plot, recorded the key information revealed by the scrolling comments, and organized and summarized it all. That would have helped me protect myself more effectively.

Embarrassingly enough, though, I still couldn't explain how I had survived the explosion at the Workhouse. I could have bluffed my way through it, but Sherlock had stopped asking and no one else had brought it up, so there was no need to hand them something to use against me.

If I wrote down this information, which was effectively a preview of the future, and it accidentally got out, I was afraid it would confirm that I had the superpower of seeing the future. Then, never mind Sherlock—even the British National Academy of Sciences would probably want a look at my brain.

I could only do my best to commit the plot to memory.

I went over it every night before bed.

Of course, what concerned me most was Professor Moriarty. Even now, remembering how his expression had suddenly turned cold and stern before we parted today still sent a shiver through me.

I really didn't know what I had said wrong.

I didn't want to make an enemy of him, either.

On the one hand, he was the criminal mastermind of all Europe; on the other, he was a professor teaching one of my lectures. If I became entangled in an irreconcilable conflict with him, I might as well give up on my studies. I might wake up one day to find I'd been tossed into some remote corner to dig coal.

That would be awful.

I was really no good at physical labor.

With a sinking feeling, I opened the manga preview—

"Time and tide wait for no man."

I remembered that Geoffrey Chaucer, the father of medieval English literature, had said it. Loosely translated, it meant "time waits for no one."

The preview only gave a general idea of the story's direction and tone. At a glance, it was just two pages long.

The story was set mainly in a noisy, brightly lit lecture hall.

The setting looked very familiar to me.

I recognized it as one of the rooms in our main teaching building, L.

It was a circular, tiered lecture hall nearly one and a half stories high. There were three doors in total, at the front, middle, and back. One connected to an exterior staircase, making it convenient for students at either end to come and go.

I'd heard that many professors liked to use that room for first-year introductory lectures. I had two lectures there myself, including Moriarty's.

As I wondered what story would unfold in this classroom, the preview manga automatically began scrolling through the plot. Professor Moriarty's figure appeared first in the main panel, standing at the front of the room. His posture as he wrote on the board was composed and forceful, as though he were conducting an invisible symphony, directing the changing course of events.

He held one hand behind his back and filled the whiteboard with long stretches of formulas with the other. Before I could see which lesson they were from—and use the notes to work out the time frame—

Our course material followed a schedule, and we covered new material every week, so it was easy to tell.

The scrolling comments, which had been briefly delayed at the start, began bubbling up one after another like fish blowing bubbles.

[I'm first!]

[First!]

[Someone beat me to it. How are your hands so fast?]

[Already finished my second read.]

[You've read it twice already?]

[Is this young lecturer who just showed up the victim this time, or the killer? He's so handsome, he must have an important role.]

[?? That's Professor Moriarty from Moriarty the Patriot!]

[Shocked!! What? Let me take a closer look at his face.]

[I still haven't gotten used to the Holmes parallel-universe setting. I keep picturing that Moriarty... I recommend checking out the Moriarty in BBC Sherlock. His acting is really good!]

[I'm a Holmes fanatic, so I'm not that fond of Moriarty...]

[This is Professor Moriarty? Help! How could my hunched, lifeless old professor with those creepy, snake-like eyes be such a young, gentle, elegant, dashing handsome guy?!]

[All I can say is, time really is a butcher's knife.]

[Official manga team: Welcome to the parallel world of Holmes!!]

[They only mentioned Professor Moriarty's younger brother Louis last chapter. I didn't expect him to show up already! I thought it would take ages. Awesome, it's the young Professor Moriarty's heavenly face~~]

[Sherlock and Moriarty crossed swords in the very first episode of the BBC mystery drama, so it's not actually that early an appearance.]

[If you can see this comment, you weren't the first person to open the manga.]

I had only opened one panel of the manga, yet the chatter in the scrolling comments was like a bustling marketplace. Everywhere I looked, people were either talking at cross purposes or answering one another back and forth. It was as lively as a festival.

I continued examining the formulas in the manga, but the information it gave was incomplete, showing only the derivatives.

Derivatives were used extensively in computational mathematics, and even the topology we were studying recently could involve them.

I had to give up on my little trick of using the derivative formulas to figure out when the manga took place.

After the camera shifted downward, the manga's main viewpoint moved to the densely packed crowd of students.

The lesson should have been somewhere past the halfway point. The students below were listening quietly, without the commotion from when they had first entered the room. Just then, however, the manga displayed the time "10:01." A student sitting in the last row jumped onto a desk, unsteady on his feet and behaving strangely, just like a drunk stumbling down the road and becoming obstinate and difficult.

The man shouted loudly, as though he had drunk bad liquor. "You've ruined my life! All of you, go to hell!"

He wasn't putting on a performance. He pulled out a gun.

Without another word, he swiftly pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The classroom instantly became tense and terrifying.

The pale indoor lights illuminated the whiteboard on the wall, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air. The professor, the students, even the wind outside seemed to have had the life robbed from them by the gunshot, frozen in a moment in the manga like the final instant before a storm.

The gunfire rang out again, and the relentless, piercing noise finally tore apart the mask of tranquility and peace.

Countless bullets whistled through the air, swiftly striking a desk in the class

room. They mercilessly ripped through its wooden surface, sending fragments and dust flying. The surrounding students, local and international alike, instantly panicked. Their breathing grew rapid, their faces turned pale, and their eyes filled with despair.

As screams rang out through the classroom, the students were almost like a set of discrete numbers spinning out of control. They scrambled to their feet in terror, trying to find somewhere to hide. Some fell to the floor, their cries of pain mingling with the screams. Blurred traces of blood gradually appeared on the floor, cruelly announcing the arrival of death.

Relentless gunfire and bullets tearing through the air made sharp, piercing sounds.

The injured students struggled amid the chaos. Their faces were pale, as though they could already sense the arrival of death.

It was a veritable hell on earth.

Reading that far, I couldn't help feeling my heart pound.

Precisely because the manga depicted "reality," its lifelike immediacy filled me with genuine panic, as though disaster would strike me the very next second.

The manga's viewpoint shifted from the student who had just become a murderer back to Professor Moriarty in front of the whiteboard.

Faced with such chaos, Professor Moriarty still wore a faint smile, as if listening to a symphony composed of terrified cries, screams, the sounds of people fleeing, curses, and gunfire.

Could he have arranged this?

Did he plan an incident?!

I couldn't help wondering.

Meanwhile, the scrolling comments also began discussing the incomprehensible situation.

[What's going on? Did Professor Moriarty arrange for this deranged person to do this?]

[If it were Moriarty from BBC Sherlock, he might do something like this, but the young professor isn't a bloodthirsty maniac who kills innocent people indiscriminately. Something must be wrong.]

[No, no, no, the young professor isn't like that.]

After those comments ended, the automatically scrolling manga soon revealed the truth.

The murderous student's bullets also flew toward the professor in front of the whiteboard—straight at Moriarty's forehead.

In the manga, the moment a bullet touched the professor, it became a blurred image.

Everything in the classroom seemed to enter a distorted reality. The instant the bullet passed through Professor Moriarty, the surrounding scene began to blur, as though a thin layer of watercolor had been smeared over its surface.

The students' expressions remained frozen in terror and despair, while the murderous student also grew distant and indistinct.

A trace of amusement showed in Professor Moriarty's eyes, as though he were savoring something.

As time began to flow again, the illusion gradually faded, and the classroom returned to reality. Professor Moriarty still stood where he had been, unharmed, as if everything that had just happened had been nothing more than a dream.

[Huh?]

Seeing this, I couldn't help being stunned for a moment.

Could the Professor Moriarty in the manga actually be in a gap in the quantum world, allowing him to evade danger?

The next second, the camera returned to a panoramic view of the classroom, indicating that Professor Moriarty had been the only person in the room from beginning to end, and everything that had just happened in the manga was a scenario he had simulated in his mind.

[What's going on?! Is the young professor planning an incident like that?]

[Why would he do something like that?!]

[Young professor, you've changed...]

[Could it be a flashback or something? (Whispered guess]

Just then, a classroom door slid open in the manga.

When the young man in the manga entered the classroom, his gaze met Moriarty's in unspoken understanding. Both men's auras paused for an instant, dissolving into their mutual gaze. In that brief moment, it was as though one could feel an electric tension in the air.

And yet the moment seemed to be nothing more than an illusion. The young man walked to a seat in the front row as if unconsciously.

Moriarty watched him, a smile on his face that felt like a spring breeze.

"I didn't expect you to come," Moriarty said kindly.

[How scary. One second he's imagining a bloody massacre, and the next he's acting like a pure, innocent professor.]

[Ahh, I love this kind of white-cut-black character! He looks gentle and kind, but cut him open and he's black as sesame! Wow~]

[I know, I know!! White-cut-black characters are so exciting!!]

[I keep feeling like this student is about to have bad luck. There's definitely something off about the professor's smile.]

[Wait, isn't this the person who found out Louis and the others blew up the Workhouse last chapter?]

In the manga, Moriarty asked, "Lanny, how do you think one could turn something inevitable into a random event instead?"

As he finished speaking, a smile curved his lips, his eyes glimmered, and his fingers tapped lightly on the desk. Everything seemed so coordinated and harmonious, as though it were a carefully choreographed performance.

In response to the professor's answer, the young man spoke as if answering a question in a specialist class. "I can offer two methods. The first is to model the inevitable event as a probability distribution and change the way it is described by introducing randomness. The second is to create a hybrid model, combining the inevitable event with a random event."

It was just like an exchange between academic disciplines.

The professor's smile was gentle and warm, making one want to explore the mystery behind it. "You think the same way I do."

[Isn't that Lanny guy the big shot from last chapter?]

[I recognized him as soon as he came in?]

[Ah, isn't this the person staying at Holmes's place? He's actually that close to Moriarty? Didn't they say he and Moriarty had become enemies?]

[Does Lanny know how wary Moriarty and the others are of him?]

In the spacious classroom, the two quietly looked at each other, an air of complete mutual familiarity surrounding them. A transparent dialogue box appeared in the very center of the manga.

"Lanny, the show is about to begin."

—The manga preview ended.

[What, what? It's that short?]

[Are they allies? The young professor definitely isn't the killer. He wouldn't deliberately do bad things, so... are they working together?]

[They're probing each other, with hidden meanings in everything they say, right? That last line must just be Professor Moriarty's own thought.]

[I'm guessing Lanny still doesn't know Moriarty is the Lord of Crime, while the young professor is testing him. I can't wait to see how their relationship develops!]

[Where on earth is this big shot from? He actually gets so much screen time.]

[Wild guess: he

[is actually Irene Adler disguised as a man~ Irene in Moriarty the Patriot also disguised herself as a man and even stayed at 221B for a while.]

[Seriously? Help! I don't want that setup!]

[Hahahaha, I just love battles of wits between clever people. Fight, fight!]

[It's bound to be amazing~~~ Can't wait for the main story in two days! Lanny's true identity will be revealed!]

I didn't want that setup either.

I had really forgotten how much damage the scrolling comments could do to me.

The more casually they spouted nonsense, the harder it was for me to bear it mentally.

The preview had given me one piece of information: Moriarty was plotting something again. This case would probably take place at the school, and he was very likely going to deliberately create an incident.

And I was very likely his target.

Or rather, from the perspective of their camp, I was the most suitable person to sacrifice.

By now, it was dark.

Autumn had just begun.

The sun set early, so it got dark early.

After reading the manga preview, I felt it would be better to go home earlier over the next few days to protect myself.

There was a short road between the school and the bus stop I needed. The streetlights along it were rather dim, and at night it always seemed shrouded in a black mist. There were usually few people on this road, and now I was the only one there.

Thinking of the hidden meaning in Moriarty's words in the manga, I couldn't help becoming apprehensive.

Just then, I suddenly noticed someone following me, matching the weight, pace, and rhythm of my footsteps exactly.

A tense fear instantly enveloped me. My head went completely stiff, and I didn't dare look back. My heart raced, and my breathing became difficult and rapid, as though I were in a horror movie with an unpredictable ending.

Without hesitation, I turned and quickened my pace, hurrying over the uneven ground. Every step seemed to remind me that danger was drawing closer.

My surroundings blurred and distorted. All I could feel was the ground beneath my feet and the threat closing in behind me. The faint light cast by the streetlamps became my only shelter.

And I was a small animal trapped in the depths of despair.

I could hear my own panting echoing in my ears alongside my heartbeat. Every breath seemed to remind me that time was running out and my path of escape was growing narrower. My eyes scanned my surroundings constantly, searching for any possible refuge, but in the darkness, everything seemed blurred and unpredictable.

The footsteps behind me drew closer and closer, as though a ferocious predator were in relentless pursuit. I felt every muscle in my body tighten, as if a fatal blow might land at any moment. Fear made me run with greater determination. Though I didn't know where I was going, I only wanted to get as far away from this invisible threat as possible.

In the darkness, I seemed to hear my own heart crying out for help.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a black luxury car slowly driving past me. It wasn't deliberately trying to get my attention; there were speed bumps nearby, so it had slowed down. But I saw it.

It was a Maserati—Mycroft's car!

Maserati...

Maserati, save me!

I stared at the car, even wanting to bang on its door and beg for help, but I couldn't catch my breath. Most infuriating of all, once the car had passed the speed bumps, it began accelerating away.

I couldn't catch up at all.

You Holmeses are too much.

The footsteps behind me grew quicker, as though the person were almost close enough to catch me in a single stride. Just as I was thinking I would have to accept my fate, the familiar sound of an engine returned nearby. A large car turned its dazzling high beams on us, the light nearly blinding me.

I instinctively closed my eyes. Before I could see who had been following me, the person quickly ran back the way they had come.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Mycroft rolling down the car window.

He leaned back against his seat and smiled faintly. "Oh, Mr. Lanny, I hope I'm not disturbing your nighttime training?"

Although I knew perfectly well he was teasing me on purpose, the moment he finished speaking was when I finally felt truly relieved.