Threats Were Stronger Than Captures

The kidnapping and disappearance of Iver Moriarty is probably the biggest news on Glass Island recently.

Moreover, this news was a serial drama – first, he made headlines several times for repeatedly thwarting the conspiracies of the Noble Red Society, and finally, he was awarded the Holy Sword Medal for his outstanding contributions.

Less than a week later, the Noble Red Society stormed into the school and arrested him.

"Judging from the battle marks, Iver put up a very fierce resistance. He even took down several superhumans who were far stronger than himself... but unfortunately, he was still outnumbered. Hai Na, I remember you and Iver were quite close, right?"

"Hmm? Ah..."

Hai Na listened to her roommates chatting about the latest news, she replied absentmindedly, "Yes."

She was thinking about something.

Is Iver alright now?

Or rather, was this current disappearance... part of Iver's plan? Iver had mentioned to her before that he might fake his death like Sherlock. But now that he's actually in trouble, Hai Na couldn't help but wonder... did Iver's "fake death" refer to this time? She felt a little panicked.

What if Iver's plan fails?

He wasn't referring to this time's faked death, but rather what would happen afterward? In other words, it's possible he was genuinely attacked and captured this time, which is actually quite possible, isn't it? "Why did the Noble Red Society specifically capture Iver? Are they trying to torture him?"

"Indeed, this doesn't make sense. If it was for revenge, shouldn't they have just killed Iver? Bringing a grown man along, it won't be easy for them to escape."

"Could it be to interrogate him? Maybe Iver knows some secret, which is why they have to capture him alive."

"There's no need to storm into the school and kidnap him, is there? Our school is Dean Meg's territory... Although she's not usually here, she'll definitely be furious after this."

"I wonder if they want to exchange hostages?"

"That's possible. But wouldn't they all be hanged if they caught those members of the Noble Red Society?"

"There might still be some alive."

"Impossible. If there were any survivors, the newspapers would have reported it immediately to put pressure on them."

"Could it be that they're using Iver to exchange for the Traitor List? That's how it's written in novels, isn't it?"

Hai Na's roommates huddled together, chattering about the matter.

And it's all thanks to Iver.

Originally, many people on Glass Island were completely unaware of the Noble Red Society. Perhaps more people in rural areas knew about it, but Demon Scholar rarely appeared in big cities—there were too many highly educated inspectors and priests who could easily detect traces of rituals and demons.

But thanks to several front-page headlines in Iver, people quickly took notice of this group of Demon Scholar. After the Glass Staircase Newspaper published the news, other newspapers, in order to capitalize on the trend, would interview some high-ranking inspectors or bishops, asking them about the Demon Scholar and the Noble Red Society, and then publish their own articles explaining "what the Noble Red Society has done."

What do you think, Hai Na?

Hai Na suddenly felt someone touch her and asked, "Does the Bureau of Supervision have any inside information?"

But this sentence broke through Hai Na's thoughts and hesitation.

She decided not to hesitate any longer, got out of bed, threw on her coat, and rushed out. "I don't know, I'm just going out for a bit, you guys talk—"

After watching Hai Na leave, the dormitory fell silent for a while.

Her roommate, who frequented the "Old Captain Bar" to pick up men, sighed, "It seems that Hai Na really cares about Iver."

"She wouldn't like Iver, would she?"

Another person suggested a possibility.

"Who doesn't like Iver? He's handsome, gentle, and his last name Moriarty."

The other party retorted.

So the group of people who didn't have to attend classes gathered together again and started chatting, this time focusing on Hai Na.

As for Hai Na, she originally wanted to find Dean Meg. However, she didn't know where she was, so she went there and searched for her in vain, then went to find Sherlock instead.

With his intelligence, he would surely know how Iver was doing! She first ran to Mrs. Mina's Fortune Teller Shop, intending to enter through the back door. But to her surprise, she found it closed.

Hai Na's heart skipped a beat.

She ran nervously to the front door and knocked.

Ms. Mina opened the door.

"Oh, it's Hai Na."

Mina already recognized the other person and said with a smile, "You're here so early today?"

Bishop Mathers and Ms. Mina both had many secrets and disliked being bossed around.

Therefore, they don't like to hire servants, and they don't even have butlers.

For the important figures who could enter the Round Table Hall, this was already considered an eccentric and unsociable individual. But Mathers was, after all, a bishop and Spiritual Councilor. Thus, this was transformed into the ascetic lifestyle of "simple living," which was highly praised.

In any case, Ms. Mina could do ordinary housework at home, while she would borrow servants from her friends' homes to help with the more troublesome and laborious ones.

After Sherlock moved in, when Hai Na came to deliver intelligence for Iver, she would also lend a hand—after all, she did these things at home anyway.

Eagle Cape Village is not like Glass Island. There are no rules like "things must be done by servants or it will seem undignified" or "guests cannot touch or say anything on the spot, but must be informed tactfully afterward."

Hai Na simply saw there was work to do and went to help out. She didn't have any particular thoughts; if she had to say, she was just bored and not tired—if she were tired, she wouldn't have done it; she could just lie on the bed all day.

Fortunately, the Mathers shared her views and therefore didn't find her offensive; instead, they found Hai Na quite endearing. She had only been helping Iver and Sherlock relay messages a few times, yet she had already become a popular child.

"I've come to see Mr. Sherlock... Is Mr. Sherlock awake yet?"

"Hai Na asked, slightly nervously."

The last time she came, it was almost ten in the morning and Sherlock still hadn't woken up. She waited in the living room for over an hour, and even after Sherlock woke up, he was still in a daze, instinctively making sarcastic remarks for a while. When Sherlock wasn't fully awake, his mouth was much more venomous than usual.

"Yes, they've all finished eating and are playing chess now."

Ms. Mina replied.

... Playing chess? Mr. Sherlock and Bishop Mathers?

Hai Na was a little confused, but she thanked her and followed.

They ended up on the second floor, in front of Sherlock's bedroom.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice coming from inside. "General. Aren't you going to change games? If you switch to bridge, I probably won't be able to beat you... Perfect timing, Hai Na is here too. We can make a four-player game."

Hearing this, Hai Na was startled.

But she soon felt joy—like when she was a child and craved honey. The whole world seemed to sweeten, and the sun seemed to be shining.

She immediately knocked on the door, and before anyone could get a response, she eagerly pushed the door open and went inside.

"You're really alright, Iver!"

Inside the room, Iver, now free of his wheelchair, leaned back in his seat with his legs crossed and his left leg raised. A confident smile graced his face.

That was a completely different temperament from the docile and gentle one Iver had when he was in a wheelchair.

He basked in the golden morning sunlight, red butterflies fluttering around his fingertips.

Only after she was finally freed from her wheelchair and seated at the same height did Hai Na realize that Iver and Sherlock were actually about the same height. But at that moment, Iver appeared much taller.

Sherlock, sitting opposite him, frowned, his arms resting on his knees and his hand on his chin, deep in thought as he looked at the chessboard.

Lily sat down next to Iver, close to him. She had a smile on her face and was the first to look up at Hai Na.

Sherlock ignored her.

He just stared intently at the chessboard, muttering to himself, "This is really tricky. I was clearly in the lead at the beginning, so when did things suddenly turn so bad..."

He thought for a long time before finally moving another piece, "Even though I've already lost, I still want to finish the game."

Iver laughed and said, "Because you don't understand a principle, Sherlock. Chess is not a purely logical game; it involves psychological warfare. From this perspective, a threat is always more powerful than capturing a piece... because I didn't choose to let you deal with the situation that had already been created, but instead used anticipated pressure to increase your thinking and psychological stress."

"Use defensive strategies to gradually weaken you, and apply pressure to force you to make mistakes when you become impatient. The more arrogant a person is, the less they can tolerate making mistakes... And by repeating this process, your actions will gradually become distorted. Your goal will gradually change from 'winning' to 'solving the problem I present'."

"From this perspective, some plans don't actually need to be implemented. Just making the other party aware of the possibility is enough for the plan to take effect—its impact is its effect."

With that, Iver placed the White Empress down. "I'm going to die. I've won three in a row, Sherlock. Your offensive drive is too strong, which makes you blind to the fact that you are also being threatened."

That's why I'm here.

Sherlock replied, "That makes perfect sense."

Iver smiled and shook his head, "Offense does not mean advantage, and continuous offense does not mean victory. It was because I voluntarily gave up my offensive turn that you were able to launch continuous attacks... Some people give up because they are indeed weak and powerless, but some people give up offense simply to preserve their mobility."

"For example, would you choose to stay here and not move at all?" Sherlock countered.

"Right."

Iver picked up the white Empress, held it between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, and showed it to Sherlock.

"Once I leap from the chessboard, I am no longer a piece. Now I can go anywhere, and they will panic. Panic leads to mistakes. Mistakes lead to death. And when they die, they will drag others down with them to be content."

The young man with short, platinum-blonde hair narrowed his eyes slightly like Fox: "Watch, Sherlock... just watch."

"They won't last long. I've put all the pressure on them. Now it's their turn to attack."

Sherlock looked at Iver Moriarty in the sunlight.

For the first time, he realized that he might never have truly understood his friend.

The first chapter is 3,000 words! The second chapter will be a little later, I overslept today... probably around 2 AM.