As Sherlock Holmes stood at the aircraft door with grief and indignation written all over his face, letting the gale sting the skin not covered by his goggles, Salomon had long since left Baker Street. Even the stubborn Sherlock had been forced to acknowledge the power of magic after witnessing Salomon solve a case through Tarot Card divination. With the clues provided by the Tarot Cards and the Internet's powerful search capabilities, Salomon had dug up everything through divination—even details not mentioned in the case files, private matters known only to those close to the people involved. The trail of money and power dealings was as clear as glaring ink spots on white paper. What had seemed like a bizarre case of resurrection became as dull as a boring thesis once the Arcanist laid it all out. If MI5 and MI6 still could not catch anyone with this intelligence, it could only prove that from World War II to the Cold War, and from the Cold War to the present, the United Kingdom's intelligence services had remained as "rich in talent" as ever.
Tarot Card divination had replaced Sherlock Holmes's deductions, which left the detective deeply dissatisfied. He still refused to incorporate magic, such an unstable variable, into his system of reasoning. The Arcanist did not mind. Sherlock Holmes had already arranged a visiting time, and then he would gradually broaden his horizons and come to deeply understand just how difficult it had been for the Human Race to survive to this day. His sense of social responsibility and curiosity would drive him onward until he fell into the game Salomon had arranged. This was an open scheme, not the covert plot used to recruit Stephen Strange. Even if Holmes realized it, he could not escape.
He had won, so