Chapter 34

"Vengeance must be taken."

Trapped behind the door and unable to open it, I instinctively held my breath and listened.

After more than ten seconds, I confirmed that everything around me was quiet, with no other sounds or movement. I slowly moved my feet and looked back around the library.

Dazzling golden sunlight streamed through the sloping skylight ahead, instantly illuminating the wooden floor, with specks of light rippling like water. The library's two levels were connected by two crescent-shaped staircases on either side of me.

My view was limited, so I couldn't see the whole of the upper floor. I could only make out rows of bookcases against the walls, holding countless books. On the ground floor, bookshelves were arranged in a grid, leaving room to walk freely between them.

Opposite me stood a spacious desk, at least two meters long.

Simply put, the ground floor was like a miniature library. I guessed there might be a sitting area upstairs, since there didn't seem to be anywhere to rest on the ground floor. That made the ground floor relatively safe.

I figured I could stay put on the ground floor for now.

Even so, I took out my phone first to check the manga forum for any new information, just to make sure I wouldn't run into a murder case here.

For example, I might enter Bluebeard's secret room and accidentally stumble upon a dismembered corpse; or there might be a case in which I was the victim; or something milder, like the disappearance of a valuable item.

There was nothing new on the forum.

Come to think of it, when the manga started last time, there had also been two unfamiliar silhouettes.

People had offered explanations and guesses about who they were, but I hadn't paid attention. Someone had promptly named both of them, saying one was the older brother and the other was another member of Professor Moriarty's team. People rereading it had also gone back to answer others, saying those two had barely taken part in the case. I figured it wasn't useful, so I hadn't made a point of remembering.

After everything ended, I had considered going back and learning more about those things.

But then I thought that every time I ran into trouble, it was because I knew too much about the situation and someone had keenly picked up on it. Maybe I should try a different angle and approach, gradually getting to know different strangers as things unfolded naturally. Of course, I only dared consider doing that because a comment in the barrage had said they weren't particularly dangerous people.

This time, when I went back into the beginning of the manga, the name Albert was more familiar to me.

The barrage said he was Professor Moriarty's older brother, and some said he was a soldier. In this parallel world, though, they weren't sure whether that detail would carry over or whether he would be given a different role, like a business CEO. Based on what I'd seen today, I leaned more toward him being an army colonel. Like Watson, he had military habits he couldn't shake, such as his gaze, expression, and posture.

He and the professor didn't look much alike, and it wasn't because of the art style or their hair and eye colors. In this society, which resembled reality, Albert had more regular features and a softer face. Professor Moriarty and his younger brother from before, on the other hand, had a more aggressive, imposing kind of handsomeness, sharp as a blade, with nothing to disguise their fine features. By contrast, Albert first put people at ease, and only afterward did they realize he was just as good-looking.

Personally, I leaned more toward the latter.

That was just my personal opinion.

Speaking of which, he had told me to wake Professor Moriarty, but I wasn't actually an idiot. There was no way I was really going to

startle the sleeping Professor Moriarty awake.

After all, someone who seemed as kindly as he did might secretly have another side. For example, he might mercilessly kill anyone who approached him while he slept, pulling an "I like to kill in my dreams."

Someone kind in a dream might also become a killer who didn't bat an eye.

So I took a walk around the ground floor of the library. What drew my attention most, however, wasn't the books, but a photograph on the desk—a picture of Professor Moriarty with his family, both of them wearing harmonious, happy smiles.

I fell into thought and instinctively wanted to pick up the photograph for a closer look.

Before I could act, however, I sensed a strange dark shape out of the corner of my eye. I instinctively turned around and saw Professor Moriarty lying on a beanbag chair not far away—he was sleeping curled up inside it. Honestly, I didn't think it was particularly proper, but that didn't stop the sight from scaring me as though I had fallen into an abyss. My whole body went cold, as if even my blood had lost its warmth.

Professor Moriarty seemed to be deeply asleep and showed no reaction whatsoever.

I remained frozen for a moment before realizing I had scared myself. I eased my strained nerves, and then an unnamed urge came over me: I wanted to get closer to him.

In fact, it was only after reading the manga that I became more certain Professor Moriarty had never needed anyone to be his scapegoat in the first place. He had simply wanted to drag me into it, not expecting me to come looking for him myself. Besides, he had also considered holding off on clearing my name for the time being. If it weren't for Lucian and the others, I might still be under police investigation now.

A gentleman must take revenge for such a grudge.

Something stirred in my heart, as though I had been encouraged by some kind of courage.

I crept toward Professor Moriarty, my heartbeat seeming to thunder in my ears like a drumbeat accompanying my little adventure. As I gazed at his face, a timid, nervous, yet excited feeling rose in my chest.

I want to pinch his cheek while he's sleeping soundly, as a punishment.

My hand slowly reached toward his cheek, as though time had frozen at that moment.

Every inch felt like a long journey, and every passing second seemed to linger at my fingertips, like a grain of sand slowly falling through an hourglass. At last, I gently touched his skin. The sensation was extraordinarily clear, as though time had stretched out, filled with suspense and drama.

Just then, Professor Moriarty opened his eyes.

My hand hadn't moved away yet, and it froze where it was. I knew I should pull it back and find some way to cover for myself, but my brain had crashed.

This story taught me that I wasn't very cut out for doing bad things.