Chapter 30

"The power of a good person is just too much"

Attendance for the lecture was already set in stone.

No amount of struggling could change it.

I could only accept it.

It was already past midnight when the three of us returned to the apartment.

By the time we had each washed up, it was after one in the morning, nearly two.

However, there were still things I hadn't figured out, and I was anxiously waiting for the manga to update. I couldn't get to sleep just yet.

At Scotland Yard, the situation had been complicated, so Professor Moriarty and I hadn't been able to say much.

However, what had happened yesterday was the result of Professor Moriarty and me working together. Throughout the whole process, I had been terribly worried that Sherlock would find out and notice something.

After reading the preview manga, I had started thinking about how Professor Moriarty and I could coexist, rather than have him threaten my life outright.

I believed the quickest and most effective method was "cooperation."

As the saying went, "Common interests can be a bond of unity."

If we had a shared goal and common interests, we could achieve a temporary peace.

During that time, I only had to appear harmless and keep a low enough profile to make him think that "I'm a threat" was just an illusion, gradually establishing a balance between us. Even if he remained hostile toward me, given the choice between pretending to be friendly and maintaining peace, he would choose the latter, because it benefited him more.

I had indeed considered asking Sherlock for help.

But just as I couldn't explain how I had escaped death in the bombing, I couldn't explain why I knew that William Moriarty, the popular professor beloved throughout the college, was a criminal outlaw who had even organized and led a vast criminal network.

I had no evidence.

Speaking rashly without evidence wouldn't protect me. It would only put me at a disadvantage, constantly under Professor Moriarty's surveillance.

So I could only seek peace in my own way.

I had read the preview manga over and over again. I had likewise collected and summarized the information in the forum users' comments. Judging by the readers' comments, this manga seemed inclined to put Moriarty the Patriot in the spotlight. Its purpose was to create a Lord of Crime who could rival Sherlock, the great detective.

In other words, this manga would also reveal what sort of character Moriarty the Patriot was and what methods he usually employed to readers unfamiliar with him.

There were too many people spamming the forum, and some even put out smoke screens, but a few had summarized Moriarty the Patriot's traits:

First, he never took the initiative to harm people.

Second, he only chose evildoers with a history of heinous crimes as his targets.

Second, he tended to kill with a borrowed knife, working with people driven by hatred and revenge.

Based on those traits, I believed that behind the tragic shooting several years ago, there had to be someone who knew the truth and longed for revenge, and that this person had already found Moriarty as a partner.

After learning the broad outline of the story from Watson, I could conclude that there were two people directly involved in the case: the student killer who had gone mad, and the sincere old professor who had been an innocent victim.

Everyone else was background in the story.

By the logic of novels and manga, then, that should have been irrelevant information.

So, before the next day came, I contacted Inspector Lestrade again and asked if he could tell me about the mathematics department murder case. Ordinarily, he might not have agreed, but I asked in Sherlock's name. Inspector Lestrade soon gave me a more complete report. (Even if Sherlock asked about it afterward, I only had to explain that I was curious about the story Watson had told.)

The full account of the case was basically identical to Watson's. The only difference was that Watson had said the culprit didn't have epilepsy, but when I checked, the student had a history of it. He had kept it well under control in his early university years, but as the pressure mounted later on, he had a seizure in public.

The suspicious point, however, wasn't the medical history, but how complete Watson's account had been.

After all, Watson had also said he was from another college and had only heard about the case from others years after it happened. Yet this secondhand version, remembered after so much time had passed, was almost identical to the sequence and course of events recorded by the police.

I guessed someone had approached Watson and told him the story.

The purpose, of course, couldn't have been simply to tell Watson a story, but to "let me hear the story."

Sherlock would never do something in such a roundabout way, so that left only Professor Moriarty.

As soon as I reached that conclusion, I thought, He wants to use me as a knife against someone. Although I didn't know how Professor Moriarty intended to design the whole process, rather than be forced into becoming his knife, I would be better off taking the initiative myself instead of becoming his puppet.

The cookie Watson had given me earlier had also given me a useful insight—"The best way to predict the future is to create it." So I took the initiative to dress in the clothes "I" wore in the manga and went to find Professor Moriarty.

Don't wait for the future to happen.

Take the initiative and walk toward it.

Of course, I dared to do this because I was betting that this time Moriarty the Patriot would be in the spotlight. Applying manga logic, Sherlock's abilities would be weakened when Moriarty the Patriot was in the spotlight, or he wouldn't have a role to play at all, so Sherlock wouldn't notice the connection between Professor Moriarty and me.

Things had indeed happened as I expected. Although Sherlock had mentioned Professor Moriarty, he didn't seem to have pursued the matter much further.

The whole affair had come to an end in due course.

All in all, I wouldn't have to spend the coming days on tenterhooks. Nor would I have to worry about Professor Moriarty coming after me while I was preparing for exams.

My only concern was whether I had performed well enough to achieve the result I wanted.

At the very least, I hoped Professor Moriarty didn't think I meant him harm.

Throughout the process, I had to show him that I trusted him absolutely, cooperating with and trusting him—the perfect partner.

At Scotland Yard, Professor Moriarty had indeed gone on to invite me to spend Christmas with him. Did that mean, on some level, that he approved of my performance?

I really wasn't sure.

I was so eager to check my results in the manga that I lost track of how much time had passed.

The nth time I refreshed the manga, Mrs. Hudson, who lived on the same floor as I did, saw that my light was still on and knocked on my door.

I

replied, "Come in."

Mrs. Hudson was petite. She had come to see me wearing a burgundy fur shawl, and she looked even more slender than usual. Yet an inner strength seemed to sustain her, one that never allowed others to overlook or underestimate her.

There was a warm light in Mrs. Hudson's eyes. "Lanny, can't sleep? Would you like some milk?"

I glanced at my spotless desk and cursed myself for putting my textbooks and homework away so neatly.

Before I could speak, Mrs. Hudson noticed the phone I had left on my desk, and a look flashed across her eyes. I had a bad feeling, and sure enough, Mrs. Hudson said gently, "Or are you waiting for a call from your family? Is it eight or nine in the morning in China now?"

Even though I knew she had the wrong idea, I instinctively covered my phone with my hand and, as if trying to cover for myself, went along with what Mrs. Hudson had said. "It's after nine, almost ten in the morning. They're very busy over there."

Mrs. Hudson spoke softly, full of concern. "Lanny, sometimes you don't have to pretend so hard to be an adult and handle everything on your own. Nobody can overcome every difficulty alone. When you need to, feel free to rely on other people. It's not a big deal."

I wanted to explain that it wasn't like that, but it was a cultural difference that was hard to explain.

Mrs. Hudson didn't understand that Chinese people shared good news but not bad, nor did she understand that, as the eldest child in my family, I wasn't allowed to show fear, be afraid of difficulties, or even think of seeking comfort from someone.

It didn't matter that she didn't understand.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

Mrs. Hudson knew I didn't want to talk about it further. Looking toward the kitchen, she said, "If you don't want to sleep yet, how about I make you a London fog latte?"

A London fog was also called "fogbound London." It was really just an Earl Grey latte with vanilla syrup, and Mrs. Hudson added a little milk to hers. Coffee shops made it more professionally, using steamed milk.

Drinking tea or coffee at night usually didn't affect my sleep.

Sometimes, when Mrs. Hudson saw me staying up late, she would make me a cup.

This time, I followed her to the small kitchen on the first floor. Warm yellow light filled the kitchen, and it was quiet upstairs. Everyone was probably fast asleep, so as Mrs. Hudson skillfully began brewing English black tea, she kept as quiet as she could.

Seeing me follow her over to watch, Mrs. Hudson said in a voice only the two of us could hear, "Lanny, is there anything else you like to drink? I'll get you some next time I go to the supermarket."

I always found it hard to accept other people's kindness.

Even though I wanted to tell them over and over that they really didn't have to do this, I also cherished the care and warmth too much to tell them against my wishes that I didn't want it.

When Mrs. Hudson finally handed me the milk tea, she smiled and said, "Lanny, I know that when you first came to London, you had a lot of unpleasant experiences in this city, but I still hope you'll come to like London."

As soon as she said that, a burning warmth spread through my chest.

The power of a good person was just too much for me.

Her last sentence nearly brought tears to my eyes, but I held back my emotions, nodded, and said, "I will."

After finishing my milk tea, I went to bed early with a grateful heart instead of continuing to wait for the manga update.

The manga still hadn't updated the next day, but for the

time being, I put it out of my mind.

As usual, the two of us roommates sat around the table eating breakfast.

Mrs. Hudson came up from the first floor and handed Sherlock a package. "Sherlock, your brother Mycroft has sent you something again."

Sherlock had always been dismissive of things Mycroft gave him. After taking it this time, he said coldly, "Lindt dark chocolate. This boring stuff again." With that, he tossed it aside.

Normally, everyone was used to it, and there was nothing unusual about it.

This time, as soon as Sherlock tossed it aside, Mrs. Hudson gave him a smack on the back.

The sound was clearly so loud because she had struck his clothes, and it probably couldn't have hurt much, but the two of us froze at the same time.

We had no idea what was wrong with Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson soon gave us the answer. She frowned unhappily and said very seriously, "You ungrateful bad boy, you mustn't do that in front of Lanny."

I had no idea what was going on and shook my head at Sherlock and Watson when they looked at me, indicating that I didn't know either.

Kindhearted Mrs. Hudson gave me a concerned glance, then continued scolding Sherlock. "Showing off gifts from your family like that will hurt his feelings. He couldn't even sleep last night..."

My family?

Hurt my feelings?

As soon as she said that, how could I fail to see what an enormous misunderstanding this was?

I could already feel their gazes growing more intense. But I didn't dare look at them. I just wanted to cover my face.

Mrs. Hudson, please don't say any more.

Although I didn't want to reveal the truth, I also didn't want to ruin Mrs. Hudson's image of me as a good student who dutifully went to school. I didn't want to say that I had actually been waiting for the manga to update, so I said with difficulty, "There was just a problem I couldn't figure out last night, and that's why I couldn't sleep."

Watson was very perceptive and immediately understood.

Even though his whole face was written with concern that said, "I won't press you, but if you want to talk, I'm always ready to listen," he considerately said, "That problem must have been very difficult."

The little person inside me was in tears as I forced myself to nod in agreement.

The two considerate angels knew I didn't want to discuss the subject further. So Mrs. Hudson and Watson helped cover for me, allowing me to bring the subject to an early close.

However, the most terrifying rational demon king, Sherlock Holmes, wasn't so easily fooled. Throughout the meal, he stared at me as if he meant to dissect me layer by layer.

Just as we finished breakfast and went our separate ways to work and school, Sherlock's calm gaze fell on me a second before I left. Without a trace, it suddenly turned sharp as a knife. "Lanny, what is it? Did you have something else you hadn't finished last night?"

The moment he said that, my scalp went numb.