While Satoru Gojo was engrossed in cat treats, could you really say Sherlock had done nothing besides count money and market him?
No. In fact, while Satoru Gojo had everyone's attention, Sherlock had actually done some simple observation.
Since they could establish that this host club had countless ties to that "loan shark," someone was bound to get anxious when Satoru Gojo appeared and stole their "sales."
Sure enough, Sherlock zeroed in on three hosts at the same club.
Over the past week, those three had been as frantic as ants on a hot pan. In private, they looked at Satoru Gojo as though they wanted to eat him alive.
And Sherlock saw fear in their eyes, fear that only grew the longer Satoru Gojo worked there.
Sherlock pinpointed those three and, on the morning of the eighth day, joined Satoru Gojo in dragging them straight into a private room and tying them up.
For Jujutsu Sorcerers, so-called intelligence gathering generally came down to three approaches: threats of violence, otherwise known as interrogation by torture; financial temptation, promising huge sums to make someone divulge information; or persuasive education, appealing to their emotions and reasoning with them.
Satoru Gojo usually used the second method. After all, the Gojo Clan could be said to have nothing left but money, while his classmate Suguru Geto had favored the last approach before defecting.
But right before Satoru Gojo's eyes, Sherlock demonstrated a method outside those three, one that was even faster and more accurate.
After easily knocking the three men down and tying them to chairs, Sherlock splashed them awake with a basin of cold water.
Before they could start cursing, Sherlock drew the revolver Shoko had given him from behind his waist in front of them, then unloaded it over the coffee table in the private room, leaving just one round in the cylinder.
Only after giving the revolver's cylinder a quick spin did Sherlock stand up and walk over to the three men.
"You three should know why I kidnapped you. Tell me honestly, and trust me, nothing will happen to you.
"In fact, if you tell me honestly, my brother and I will leave this place just as you all want. We absolutely won't get in the way of you making money."
Sherlock spoke with absolute certainty, but after exchanging glances, not one of the three said a word.
The "loan shark" wasn't stupid, either. The "loans" were generally issued in secret, and those who received "loans" from the "loan shark" usually kept quiet about them.
After all, when people sold their souls to the devil, they were usually foolish enough to want to preserve the advantages they had gained by selling their souls. Generally, they would never broadcast it.
So, faced with Sherlock's words, not one of them spoke. Even their gazes seemed to say with certainty that he wouldn't dare shoot.
Even Satoru Gojo instinctively furrowed his brow at the sight.
Although Sherlock's gun held only one bullet, it still carried tremendous uncertainty.
Although Jujutsu Sorcerers weren't held accountable if ordinary people got caught up in their battles, in Satoru Gojo's view, if Sherlock didn't value ordinary people's lives, then his mental state was undoubtedly even worse than Geto's had been back then.
But Sherlock's next move instantly drove that thought out of Satoru Gojo's mind, and even made him instinctively clamp his legs together.
After looking around and finding no one speaking, Sherlock stepped forward without hesitation, aimed at the first man's junk, and pulled the trigger without a second thought.
Click!
The sound of the hammer striking an empty chamber was piercing in the quiet private room. Almost instantly, all three bound men went deathly pale. In particular, the first man Sherlock had fired at had actually started rolling his eyes back.
Sherlock paid no attention to how the first man reacted. He aimed his revolver at the second man's junk, his voice like that of a demon from hell.
"The cylinder holds six rounds. That means there are four empty chambers left now. The odds, then... one in five?"
"Wait, wait, wait! What do you want to know? Ask me! I'll absolutely tell you!"
At Sherlock's words, panic became plainly visible on the face of the man tied up in the middle. He struggled wildly while shouting at Sherlock.
Click!
Unfortunately, the only response he received was the sound of the hammer striking an empty chamber. Sherlock had no intention of continuing their conversation, either, and turned to stand in front of the last man.
The moment the revolver aimed at his junk, tears and snot covered the man's face. Before Sherlock could even speak, he began confessing on his own.
"Don't! Don't! I'll talk! I made a deal with the devil to improve my sales! His name is Masahiro Matsumoto. He used magic to alter my face and make me look more refined, and I have to hand over a million yen to him every month.
"If I don't pay, I'll die! I'll die! Please, I've told you everything! Save me! Save me!!!"
The third man spilled everything he knew like beans pouring from a bamboo tube. Yet Sherlock showed no intention of moving his gun hand even a fraction, instead turning to look at the first man.
By now, the first man had been frightened almost to the point of wetting himself by Sherlock's earlier, unhesitating pull of the trigger. When he saw Sherlock look over, he broke down on the spot.
"He's lying! I did it too, but that person's name is Yuko Aikawa! She's a woman! Believe me! I'm the one telling the truth!"
Click!
Sherlock aimed at the third man's junk and pulled the trigger again without hesitation. Amid the third man's wails, Sherlock expressionlessly aimed his revolver back at the first man's junk.
"A one-in-four chance. Unfortunately, none of the information you've revealed is useful. The game continues!"
After saying that, Sherlock spun the revolver's cylinder again and spoke to the three men before him with a wicked grin, prompting them to scramble over one another to spill information.
The sight left Satoru Gojo dumbfounded and covered him in goosebumps.
How should he put it? Only now did Satoru Gojo begin to realize that this student of his was not merely outrageous, but even had a slightly devious streak.
Was this something a fucking human could come up with?
With every round of questioning, Sherlock reset the odds. This was far more thrilling than Russian roulette with fixed odds.
Most importantly, Sherlock had aimed at their junk rather than their heads from beginning to end. As everyone knew, a person could survive having their junk blown apart, but the problem was that no one wanted to live like that, and even fewer dared gamble their own junk against those terrifyingly high odds.
And so, using a nasty method no one had anticipated, Sherlock actually squeezed out every bit of information in what had originally been a troublesome investigation.
And Satoru Gojo, the sheltered Six Eyes who had witnessed the whole thing, had this to say: he was utterly shaken!