Sherlock Holmes

In the hallway of the Bureau of Supervision, a languid youth with black hair and brown eyes leaned against the wall, intently reading a newspaper.

He looked quite young, probably in his early twenties, like a recent college graduate.

He was slender, with a long, hooked nose and thin lips that were always pursed, which made him appear somewhat harsh.

As he read the newspaper, Hai Na stood beside him, constantly muttering.

"...That's it, Mr. Sherlock! I've told you everything I remember, so can you solve that question for me?"

Hai Na was clearly excited.

Not only had she performed meritorious service, but she had also been interviewed and made the front page of the Glass Staircase Newspaper. She must have been noticed by the Queen—this made her feel like she was walking on clouds, floating and unsteady.

Realizing that she was probably famous, she gritted her teeth and spent all her money beyond her necessary living expenses to buy all the copies of this issue of the Glass Staircase Newspaper. She planned to take them all home during the holidays and give them to her relatives and friends.

When she went to work today, she happened to meet Consultant Sherlock, so she asked him a question with a mix of excitement at seeing her former idol and a desire to show off—

"...What question?"

Sherlock Holmes looked up and said casually, "You mean, 'Why could Mr. Iver guess that the bartender was suspicious?' It's simple, because he's a very smart man.

"He knows the bartender's name, which means he's been here before; Mr. Iver's posture is upright, and his sitting posture is very cultivated, so it's easy to know that he's not an old man. The shoulder condition of an old man is different from that of a young man—of course, considering that the bartender may not understand this kind of human anatomy, I think the more certain and direct evidence should be his boots.

"Hand-woven Elven Style boots, using alchemical and Blessing's mysterious techniques. They are deodorant, sweat-absorbent, breathable, waterproof, and improve grip to prevent falls. Such a pair of shoes probably costs more than one hundred and twenty Silver Crowns. Even ordinary Knight families can't afford them.

"The bars in the Lloyd District all do some illegal things and are good at judging people. He could never fail to see such obvious characteristics. But he clearly recognized Mr. Iver's identity, but deliberately called him 'old man'... Do you think a bartender in the Lloyd District can say such polite and cultured words?

"Moreover, why wasn't he afraid when he saw you? One of the jobs of the Bureau of Supervision is to find people who don't seem to be paying taxes and forcibly collect them. It would be strange if they didn't hate you or fear you for digging up their already meager savings. People in business are more afraid of you than ordinary workers—because there are always problems with their accounts.

"So, why isn't he afraid of you? That means he doesn't care if you ask him for money. Or he's simply not a local—maybe not even from Avalon, and doesn't realize what the sudden appearance of the Bureau of Supervision means in this country.

"And the picture in the newspaper is very clear, the wheelchair highlights the style of his boots—not to mention his Elven Style, finely crafted wheelchair. The etched Elven runes are written very clearly—Moriarty. There, here. Didn't you see it?

"I say, Miss Hai Na... Professor Moriarty mentioned that you graduated with high scores. I think your Elven language should have passed, right?"

"...Ah, yes. I recognize it."

Hai Na was a little embarrassed: "I just didn't see it."

Originally, she was quite excited and proud, but now she was reprimanded head-on. This made the excitement in her heart fade a lot, and there was also a sense of loss that "I'm so bad."

She actually didn't say some things—for example, Iver went to that bar with a forbidden book on the day he was attacked. That was Mr. Iver's secret, and she had to keep it a secret for him.

—Because they were accomplices who read the same forbidden book, grasshoppers on the same rope!

As a result, Consultant Sherlock still deduced the truth from other details even without knowing this important information. And Hai Na didn't notice these things at all.

It was as magical as Mr. Iver deducing that the mastermind was hidden in the underground wine cellar from the bartender's actions!

Hai Na was very excited, but also a little lost.

Because she felt that she seemed to have fallen into the state she was in when she first entered university—she originally thought she was a very good person, but once she came into contact with a wider world, she realized that she was just so-so.

If all these important details and evidence were told to her, Hai Na felt that although she would be slower, she would definitely be able to deduce the truth. It's just that she can't see these details at all—this is the biggest gap between them.

The gap seems small, but in reality, it is like a chasm.

"It seems you've already understood Mr. Iver's brilliance. That's good."

The young Sherlock gave a scathing critique: "Regrettably, you're probably one of the more competent ones among them. A smart person among idiots. The rest, those with muscles for brains, are just a bunch of fools.

"They can never accomplish anything, only mess things up. Even when I tell them the truth, I have to explain it repeatedly to convince them.

"And this Mr. Iver—forgive me for saying so, his observational skills are better than half the Bureau of Supervision combined."

"...You think so highly of Mr. Iver?"

Hai Na was quite surprised.

She had mostly only heard Mr. Sherlock think this person was no good, that person was stupid.

"Of course," Sherlock said coldly, "In my opinion, your 'joint' resolution of this case relied entirely on his observation and judgment.

"In Avalon, those who want to be promoted will not be promoted—do you understand what I mean?"