I Am Ye Yan

"Name?"

"Ye Yan."

"Ye... Ye... Yang?"

"No, it is Ye Yan."

"Fine. What about your identity and background?"

"Ye Yan, from a distant Eastern country. I am a cousin of Ewan Dalmons, which is why we look so much alike. Age... roughly twenty-five, I suppose. My profession is a translator, and I came to England following the passing of my aunt's family."

Ye Yan finished reciting the fabricated identity he had prepared, then looked at Lestrade with an expectant expression.

"Mr. Detective, how is it? Is the new identity I've set for myself acceptable?"

"It is acceptable."

Lestrade nodded.

"Your origin from the same Eastern country as your mother makes it easy to explain your mixed-race appearance and the gaps in your past."

Half a month had passed since the fierce battle at Red Lion Lane.

The Sunset Church had suffered a heavy blow and lacked the strength to stir up any trouble for the time being.

Because Pastor Austin had successfully summoned an unprecedented monster through the ritual, the Sanctuary was currently dedicating all its efforts to studying the remains left behind by this new type of anomaly.

Meanwhile, the cells of the Administration were packed with cultists.

As for the Sanctum.

Aside from the Sunset Church, they had been hit the hardest by this operation.

Pastor Austin had actually managed to summon an anomaly through a blasphemous inverted ritual, and judging by the results, this anomaly seemed to have some connection to the Virgin Mary.

This would not only affect the local Church of England, but orthodox churches in several other countries would also be implicated.

Of course, these matters had nothing to do with him.

Looking at the young man in a suit and leather shoes before him, Lestrade could not help but fall silent.

A child's heart hidden beneath an adult's exterior.

Only half a month ago, he had been a lad not even as tall as his own shoulder, yet now, due to the side effects of that curious object, he was forced to change his appearance and disguise himself as an adult.

He had been protected by someone he was originally meant to protect.

This fact made Lestrade, as a detective, feel a sense of shame; whenever he met those consistently sincere eyes, he even felt a sense of unease.

"However, I think it would be better for you to take an English name." Lestrade placed the file he was holding onto his desk. "After all, your Eastern name is... a bit of a mouthful."

"An English name?" Ye Yan rubbed his chin. "Then let's go with Newman. Newman Easton."

"Newman? Representing a newcomer—a fine name."

Lestrade offered a brief comment and sealed the completed documents into a file folder.

"Right, from now on you are Newman Easton. Remember your new name, and it would be best not to expose your identity."

After a moment's thought, he added, "Of course, if you accidentally expose your identity, it doesn't matter. Do not be afraid; I will find a way to resolve it for you."

If it weren't for Ewan... no, he should be called Newman now.

If Newman hadn't paid the price of his own lifespan to save them, Scotland Yard would have suffered heavy casualties this time.

What was a little trouble compared to that?

Every single person who had participated in that "Operation Broken Bridge" owed Newman their life.

"Understood, Detective Lestrade."

He could finally introduce himself with a real name.

Ye Yan felt happy; it felt as though he had taken a giant step closer to returning home.

"Detective?"

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at these words, revealing a meaningful smile. "By the time we meet again, you might need to change how you address me."

Change how he addressed him?

Ye Yan was stunned for a moment, then realized what he meant.

Right. Detective Lestrade was likely about to be promoted.

In the original work, Lestrade did eventually ascend to the position of Chief Inspector. It seemed this operation to suppress the Sunset Church had accelerated that timeline significantly.

Come to think of it, it wasn't just Lestrade; he had also gained a massive harvest from the incident involving the suppression of the Sunset Church.

After the third diary entry was completed, the prompt had provided Ye Yan with the qualification to name a book, as usual.

When he returned home and recorded his recent experiences from his own perspective in Travelogue of the Homeless, Ye Yan had unexpectedly obtained the coordinates of two mysterious locations.

[Traces of two transcendent existences have been found in the travelogue you wrote. Coordinate imprints obtained: [Woodland], [Mansus]]

Even though those two coordinates had absolutely nothing to do with "home."

Yet, they transformed into two ribbons of color within the Compass, making Ye Yan's Path Home appear clearer and more expansive.

This also made Ye Yan understand.

If he wanted to go home, he had to find those two places.

But Ye Yan could not go.

Just like with Samsara Bookstore, he lacked an opportunity—an opportunity to find the door.

These problems could wait for him to study slowly later, but he was currently very concerned about another issue.

"Detective Lestrade, what about my parents' inheritance?"

This was the starting capital Ye Yan urgently needed, as he currently had no fixed source of income.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that."

"That inheritance was yours to begin with, and now that you..." Lestrade coughed, mindful of Ye Yan's feelings, and switched to a more tactful term: "Well... have grown up, the inheritance will be converted into an equivalent amount of cash for you."

If he didn't hand the inheritance over to Newman, was he supposed to give it to some wild uncle who popped out of nowhere?

One uncle was a harmful bloodsucker.

The other uncle was also a damn gambler before.

Even if that Jules had now joined the Administration due to awakening an ability and claimed he would work hard to pay off his debts, he would never believe that a scoundrel could easily return to the right path.

A leopard cannot change its spots.

This person would likely revert to his true colors before long.

"Newman, as a piece of advice from me, I don't think it's a good idea for you to live with that uncle of yours."

Lestrade truly did not believe that a scoundrel who had been sent away on a ship by his own family for failing to pay debts, and who had later gotten involved with cultists, had any redeeming qualities worth trusting.

"I can help him find a place with cheap rent."

He added.

Ye Yan shook his head gently.

"Thank you, Detective Lestrade."

He thanked him first, then continued: "My current situation makes it hard to find a suitable roommate, and sharing a place with my uncle can save on some expenses."

Although the three major organizations had all extended olive branches to him, he remained somewhat resistant to joining such mysterious organizations.

The root cause lay in the Shell-Opening Blade.

Not to mention the "door-opening" ability of the Shell-Opening Blade, its inherent "Sharpness" alone was far superior to the enchanted weapons crafted by the Administration.

If the Shell-Opening Blade hadn't already been bound to Jules, Ye Yan would have even worried that the higher-ups would find an excuse to forcibly confiscate it.

Regardless of whether it could be used or if the side effects were severe.

Possessing the Shell-Opening Blade was equivalent to holding a key to a portal that could traverse space; he dared not use it in daily life, but it could serve as a final life-saving measure in a moment of life and death.

Fortunately, the door-opening ability of the Shell-Opening Blade did not seem to be something everyone could achieve.

If not for this, the people above would not have returned the Shell-Opening Blade to them so cleanly and decisively.

Ye Yan was very clear about the calculations of those above.

Guess whether they would one day demand he consume his lifespan to open a door to save some big shot?

One could answer this question just by thinking with their toes.

Naturally, he would not agree.

After all, he was no saint willing to sacrifice himself for others; his previous rescue was entirely out of his own self-interest.

But some things were not a matter of wanting to or not.

Assuming Ye Yan enjoyed the convenience and resources they provided, he would find it difficult to even refuse in the future.

Treating a priceless object as a bargaining chip for both sides to weigh its value was, in itself, a losing deal.

This current state was just fine.

Because he consumed his lifespan to open a door and save people, the three major organizations owed him a massive favor; as long as he didn't act recklessly, he could almost walk sideways through London now.

If he had to choose one, he would rather go to the Research Institute.

Although his abilities were more suited to the work of the Administration, he really did not want to frequently go on field missions or participate in the investigations of those dangerous, mysterious events.

Lestrade was unaware of the calculations in Ye Yan's heart.

Ever since the moment Ye Yan spared no cost in consuming his lifespan to travel across space and arrive from the ship to support them, he had determined that Ye Yan was a gentleman full of justice and chivalry.

"Newman, if you encounter any difficulties in the future, you can come to me. Be careful to hide your identity, protect yourself, and don't let those crazy cultists discover your tracks."

Ye Yan nodded and bid farewell to Lestrade.

After leaving the police station, he planned to stop by the market to buy ingredients for lunch, deliberately avoiding the carriage rental point.

Turning past Drake Lane.

A sense of unease suddenly welled up in Ye Yan's heart.

Someone is following me?

He naturally lacked counter-tracking skills, but his intuition was warning him that he seemed to have become someone's target.

We are on a busy street right now; who would dare to follow me?

Are they not afraid they won't be able to escape?

Ye Yan did not stop his pace, his peripheral vision sweeping across the reflection in a shop window. The commercial street at high noon was bustling with crowds; newsboys were hawking The Times, and women in petticoats were selecting ribbons. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

Thinking of this, Ye Yan slowly lowered his arm, preparing to draw the Shell-Opening Blade at any moment to open a door and flee.

Just then, a four-wheeled carriage pulled up alongside him.

The two chestnut horses pulling the carriage snorted, and under Ye Yan's vigilant gaze, a middle-aged man wearing a gray suit jacket, looking as if he had just left an aristocratic banquet, lifted the carriage curtain and tipped his hat in greeting.

"Good afternoon, young sir."

Ye Yan lingered on the man's gray pupils for a moment, then froze abruptly as his gaze swept across the shadows inside the carriage.

Sitting there was a familiar man with slicked-back hair.

Is that Smith?

Then who is the man greeting me...

"I am Mycroft Holmes, the new director of the Supernatural Administration Bureau. If you don't mind, could this Mr. Easton, newly arrived in London, step into the carriage and have a chat with me?"