The Clumsy Detective

Mubay County, Eagle Cape Village. 7 PM.

The sun had already set outside the window, and the icy storm that accompanied the Wild Hunt was sweeping in.

Meanwhile, at Hai Na's house, the whole family gathered in the blacksmith's shop, where the Fire Essence had lit the furnace. The fire dispelled the chill, and the people huddled together, surrounding the diminutive little Sherlock.

"—Give it a try, Arthur. You put your own heart and soul into this too."

The Magnetic Hammer Master encouraged Sherlock by handing him his cane.

Sherlock paused for a moment before realizing what he had just heard. He had almost forgotten that the alias he used in Eagle Cape Village was Arthur Conan Doyle.

He looked down at it—it was an unremarkable, jet-black cane. It looked like a burnt-out tree, its blackness still tinged with embers.

Little Sherlock slowly took the cane with both hands and slammed it to the ground.

The cane was even taller than him. He had to strain to raise his hand to barely grip the handle.

But as Sherlock pulled downwards, the cane spiraled inwards section by section, disappearing below.

—It can be used normally even by children of current size.

Sherlock pointed it at the air and flung it forcefully—

The cane unfolded like the spine of a wild beast, transforming into a bladed whip. Countless sharp and chilling blades, reminiscent of a coiled snake.

He twisted the handle slightly, and it snapped back into a walking stick.

Sherlock aimed his cane at the air and swung it with imposing force.

The cane emitted a sharp whistling sound, slicing through the air like dark snakes.

Then Sherlock Jr. gripped his cane again and pushed it forward slightly. A fireball then rapidly gathered in front of him.

He pulled his forward-leaning cane back before the fireball was launched. The flames then slowly contracted and died out.

The bottom of the cane hissed and emitted white smoke, just like a machine emitting steam.

"The bullet simply cannot be inserted; it would cause too much structural damage and might not even do much harm."

The Magnetic Hammer Master encouraged from the side, "But the alternative you suggested did fit—give it a try?"

"I'll give it a try..."

Young Sherlock solemnly raised his cane and pressed the hidden key.

Suddenly, the coiled cane fully unfolded, its end transforming into a sharp spike.

Its length is about 2.3 meters.

At close enough distance, it might be able to pierce through the opponent's chest and abdomen.

It can be used as a defensive weapon when you have no mana.

At this distance, the power of this weapon is not much less than that of a shotgun.

"Absolutely perfect."

Little Sherlock politely returned his cane to its original state and nodded, saying, "I will send over the agreed-upon reward in a few days."

"Hey, I don't care about that."

The drunken Magnetic Hammer Master took a sip of beer and laughed loudly, "How about coming over for a couple of drinks with me?"

"No, Master. We're afraid we must leave immediately—"

Sherlock put on his newsboy cap and said seriously, "Hai Na should be back early tomorrow morning, but I estimate it will be a while longer."

Seeing that Hai Na was already dressed, Magnetic Hammer Master asked in return, "What, do you have a mission?"

"What task requires the participation of two children on vacation?"

Even now, he still doesn't know Sherlock's true identity.

"It's not a mission," Sherlock sighed and explained. "Isabel ... the Queen has already ascended the throne."

"Your Queen, you have ascended the throne..."

"Magnetic Hammer Master," he murmured.

He looked up in surprise, realizing what Little Sherlock meant.

"Has Queen Sophia... passed away?"

"Yes, old age and death."

Sherlock sighed, his expression somewhat complicated, and replied, "The funeral is in two days."

"... Hasn't almost a week already?"

Magnetic Hammer said with some annoyance, "Oh dear... this is the news from Eagle Cape Village. Oh well, the Wild Hunt outside has already left... you guys should hurry up and go too!"

As he spoke, he waved his hand and quickly chased the two away.

The news received by Eagle Cape Village is mostly out of order—sometimes it doesn't arrive for several days, and sometimes it arrives at once, containing several days' worth of news. It's also possible that news from a later day will be delivered prematurely.

Sherlock even sent back a letter saying "I'm not going home for the New Year this year" before receiving the important news of Isabel's ascension to the throne and Iver's appointment as the monarch's advisor.

He was suddenly filled with mixed feelings—

If I hadn't shrunk, if I hadn't stayed in Eagle Cape Village, perhaps I would still be in this position.

But... it's fine too.

They left their warm homes and felt the chill of late December outside.

Hai Na mounted the griffin Liz, tucked little Sherlock behind her, and asked with some concern, "Should we hurry?"

"It's alright, actually it's not too bad. At least when I received this letter, there were still almost two days until the Queen's Funeral... so there's still some time to prepare."

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief, his expression somewhat complicated. "Her Majesty Sophia has been kind to my whole family. I absolutely have to attend her funeral."

"What about your current body shape?"

Hai Na was a little worried. "Are we just going to go like this?"

Sherlock shook his head. "Let's go like this."

"Leaving Sherlock Holmes out? That's not a good idea."

Hai Na came up with a terrible idea. "Why don't you try to advance again tomorrow night? I remember you said that if you advance again, you'll be back to normal, right?"

"It can't be that fast!"

Sherlock, enraged and embarrassed, shouted, "I've only been promoted for less than a month!"

If his Path of Wisdom advance further, he will reach the Fourth Level.

It's not easy to get promoted from third to fourth.

Perhaps only Iver could do it—for some reason, this thought popped into Sherlock's mind.

... Not to mention, he'd done practically nothing for the past two weeks. Eagle Cape Village Eagle Cape Village far too remote. He'd devoted all his energy to studying its unique geography. During this time, he hadn't read any books or solved any cases; relying solely on this research, it seemed unlikely he'd uncover anything. His Path of Wisdom had made absolutely no progress.

He doubted he would get promoted tomorrow—he estimated he might not get promoted for the next few months.

That means I'll have to keep this shameful, stupid, and clumsy child look for months on end!

Although it does have some conveniences occasionally...

But in most cases, this only made him realize how inconvenient a child's body was, and Sherlock missed his original body even more.

—How could Sherlock Holmes be absent from the Queen's Funeral!... But there was really no other way.

"Even if ' Sherlock ' can't make it, I have to go myself. This isn't something I'm doing for others to see; it's what I truly feel."

So said Sherlock Jr.

"Hey, there's someone down there!"

Suddenly, Hai Na shouted, "Did you see that?"

Sherlock squinted, tried a little harder, and found that he just couldn't see that far away.

He stretched out his hand and added a status effect to himself—a flowing, swirling frame of glasses that made his gaze even sharper.

He soon saw it; there was indeed a person there.

He lay on the ground, seemingly unconscious. He looked like he was about to die.

It was obvious that the Wild Hunt had absorbed his body heat as it passed by. His body was now covered in a solid layer of ice.

... Is he from out of town? If I don't take care of him, he'll probably die soon.

Moreover, by the next morning, when everything is refreshed, his body will probably have vanished without a trace.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and patted Hai Na's shoulder hard.

"Let's go down and take a look!"

"That's exactly what I was waiting for you to say!"

Hai Na readily replied, "Go down and rescue them, Liz!"

Although nominally Sherlock's junior... after Hai Na advanced to the Fourth Level, her confidence and self-assurance truly increased significantly.

"... Huh?"

Sherlock exclaimed in surprise even before the griffin had landed.

Because he recognized the person's identity.

"Mr. Watson?"

"Someone you know, Sherlock?"

"I suppose so. A mediocre detective and a passable surgeon."

Sherlock quickly added, "And, a writer who likes to write detective novels—he runs a detective agency, but usually just does things like finding mistakes and collecting evidence of infidelity. However, he has referred some cases to me, so I have some dealings with him."

"Get down here, Hai Na —and remember to call me Arthur Conan Doyle!"

Updated! 7,000 words today! Hmm, the pandemic seems quite serious in Singapore. I'm starting to hesitate about whether to go to the Qidian annual meeting next month...

... But then again, given my health, I'd probably get infected even if I didn't go; I got infected last time without even leaving the house. So, if I get infected even without going, it would feel like a huge loss...