"I think I understand," Holmes said quietly, sitting opposite Kayson.
"You want me to deduce what cultural artifact that damn bald guy corrupted into some so-called Horcrux when we have no clues, no timeline, no crime scene, and we don't even know what that Horcrux is, and then you want me to deduce where he hid that Horcrux."
Holmes took out his pipe, stuffed it with tobacco, took a deep drag, and looked at Kayson across from him with a somewhat listless expression.
He now has some doubts that Kayson doesn't actually see him as a detective.
Instead, they regarded him as some kind of evil god, believing that as long as they fed him or offered him sacrifices, they could have their wishes fulfilled or obtain answers.
"So you can't do anything about it?" Kayson sighed.
Holmes took a tactical sip of water. "It's not like there's absolutely no way."
Kayson's eyes lit up.
Holmes continued, "I now need to know the basic timeline, such as where your enemy was when he made this Horcrux, how old he was, and other such basic questions."
Kayson leaned back in his chair.
"Emmm..."
"Is there a more convenient way?" he asked.
Holmes shrugged. "Of course, get out and get in the car."
The three of them got out of the apartment and into the car. Kayson sat in the back, humming and looking out the window at the scenery. After a while, the car stopped.
"Where is this?" Kayson asked.
" Lilydale, a community of mediums, is arguably the most famous gathering place for mediums in all of New York and even the entire America. There are 275 residents in total, 45 of whom are certified mediums. They provide full-service séances, medium research, healing services, and seminars on paranormal phenomena. What you're talking about, helping you find something, is probably something they specialize in as well," Holmes explained.
Kayson nodded. "I understand. You mean that the probability of you succeeding in finding something for me by using the void to search for enemies when I have no clues at all is no higher than the probability of me accidentally finding it by some so-called spiritual medium or charlatan? So you've become this bored? You went to two points to come here just to make me realize how outrageous my actions are?"
Holmes shrugged. "You're overthinking it. What I mean is, mediums and wizards seem to be two different entities. Although it's not appropriate for me, as a detective, to say this, they seem to be able to know certain things without any preconditions or even energy exchange."
After saying such a long string of words, he began to mutter to himself, "Even though I'm still happy, I still want to burn this place down to the ground."
After Holmes finished speaking, Kayson understood a little.
Energy Magic Prophecy...×
Mysterious Prophecy from within...✓
Which one is the most effective?
The moment Kayson asked that question, Holmes and the Hua Sheng in the car widened their eyes. But Holmes quickly seemed to laugh in exasperation and pointed to a shop around the corner.
Kayson nodded. "Thank you!"
The people left in the car exchanged glances. Peanut spoke first, "So how could Kayson, a wizard, believe such nonsense...?"
Holmes shook his head. "I knew magic would affect intelligence!"
After they finished speaking, the two of them sat in the car in a sullen mood, and then Kayson came out with three cups of coffee.
"So shouldn't it be a medium's studio inside? Why is it a coffee shop?" Kayson asked, bewildered.
Holmes took the coffee. "What I'm really curious about is why you actually believed my nonsense? We both know you're a wizard, and we still brought you to a place like this, didn't you think there was anything wrong with that?"
Kayson also took a sip of coffee. "Just because I know you know I'm a wizard, you brought me to this place because it means there must be something truly valuable here that I wouldn't belittle."
"..."
Holmes continued drinking his coffee, and for the first time he realized that his intelligence wasn't all-powerful.
At least in front of Kayson, his intelligence seemed to be of little use.
Chi Kayson pursed his lips somewhat awkwardly. "... Did I misunderstand?"
Holmes shook his head. "The route was wrong, but the result was right. We didn't come here for some so-called medium; we came to buy coffee. The coffee here is excellent, worth the two-hour drive."
"So... what about the matter I asked you to investigate?" Kayson then asked.
"Let's go back and talk about it again." Holmes sighed and sat back in the passenger seat.
If Kayson weren't one of their few friends, he would definitely have pulled out his pistol and given that scoundrel a good beating.
This is so freaking ridiculous!
Back at the client's apartment, Kayson naturally sat in the client's seat.
"That's it. Let me see what we should do. Let's fill in the missing information first," Holmes said, pulling out a notebook.
"That's fine, but you need to take precautions beforehand. That guy has enchanted his name, so it's best not to mention it unless you're strong enough." Kayson said, taking out his enchanted book and casting a barrier spell on Holmes and Voldemort to ensure Voldemort couldn't find them through name magic.
"Now is that alright? Tell me that hard-boiled egg's real name and age," Holmes said.
"His real name is Tom Riddle, born in 1926. His current name is Voldemort," Kayson said quietly, nestled in the sofa.
"Tsk tsk tsk, just rearranging simple letters? What's his family background?" Holmes clicked his tongue and said.
"Well... an orphan. His mother died after giving birth to him, and his mother was killed by him after he went to school. He also killed his uncle and framed others for the crime," Kayson explained.
"If we only look at him and his mother... Riddle is his mother's surname, right? Tom is a very common name, but it was most popular around 1900, so I assume that's his mother's name, and he inherited it from his mother, right?" Holmes said.
"That's correct." Kayson nodded.
"A contradictory person."