The fire in the fireplace crackled, and Sherlock, who simply covered himself with a thick woolen coat, slowly opened his eyes.
His almost amber brown pupils slowly focused and gradually became sharp.
With a deep and labored inhale, Sherlock struggled to sit up from the rocking chair with a creak.
He got up and used the chemical instrument on the table to boil a cup of water for himself with trembling hands. It was only heated to 30 or 40 degrees, just enough to get rid of the winter morning chill, and he added three full spoons of honey.
After drinking it all, he closed his eyes silently and stood there with his back straight.
He seemed to be savoring the taste of the honey water, and also seemed to be quickly recovering his strength.
After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes. The always calm Sherlock Hermes finally returned completely.
“Why am I third?”
He murmured in a low voice: "Except for 'Bone Sculpture', who else can have higher points than me? Fox, or Coco?"
After thinking about it for a while, I decided to keep this doubt in my mind.
He immediately began to think about another thing:
"In that scene just now, who did that pale, skinny hand belong to? And who was that fat guy
"The visions that will be displayed at the end of the game are all important scenes related to the mission. They are arranged in the order in which the events occurred. The suicide of 'Fox' determined our victory, and that happened afterwards...
"Is that fat guy the murderer? In that case, who does that white hand belong to?"
There are only two possible people.
It could be either the bone sculpture or Coco. It could be either of them... Neither of their faces is shown in the picture.
But considering that the "Fox" has two screens, that means his points may be higher than Sherlock. Then if Coco is included, there will not be enough space.
That means the person who gets the most points for the "Kill the Murderer" mission is most likely the Bone Sculptor.
—What a dangerous person.
He was able to kill a demon scholar of the second level with his first level... I'm afraid his other path would be of a very high level.
"Lars Graham..."
Sherlock muttered quietly, pulling out a file from the cabinet behind him.
His room had average lighting, was cramped, and poorly ventilated. The air was filled with the smell of chemical reagents mixed with dust, and ritual materials, books, and various files were scattered all over the bookshelves and tables.
Although it looked messy, he actually knew where the different things were placed. At least he could always find them easily.
He pulled out the file, walked to the window, squinted his eyes and read it carefully.
"Born on February 29, 1824... 74 years old."
Iris was born in the small town of Seagwell. His father was a baker and his mother was a tailor.
“I started to learn sculpture from Master Albert Adelaide when I was 14, and I started to learn beauty when I was 18. When I was 23, Master AA passed away, and I was recommended to study at the University of the West. When I was 28, I was hired as a tutor by the University of the West.
"He held his first sculpture exhibition at the age of 34, was called a master at the age of 38, and became the vice president of the School of Art at the University of the West at the age of 46..."
Sherlock muttered quietly, quickly reviewing the information at hand.
Then, his eyes focused on the middle part of the third page:
“… In 1893, he was invited to Avalon to carve a statue of Queen Sophia. This work was completed in February 1896.
“… In 1895, he became a specially appointed professor of art at the Theological Seminary of the Royal Law University, teaching ‘General Aesthetics’. He left this position in June 1898.”
Five years ago he traveled from Iris to Avalon to carve an image for the queen, who had a premonition of her imminent death. This was his last job.
Three years ago... before the icon was finished, he started teaching aesthetics at the seminary. And he taught for only three years.
Even though the scene only flashed by.
But Sherlock saw clearly that the white girl ghost was wearing the seminary uniform.
"… interesting."
Although there is still some work left to do to check the missing persons, it is now almost certain.
It's very difficult to deal with this person. As an international public figure and a foreigner... it requires solid evidence to convict him. And I'm afraid the only punishment is expulsion.
But if we can verify that he has embarked on the path of twilight, perhaps it will be much easier to deal with.
"The bone sculpture cannot be moved for the time being, fox..."
Sherlock murmured in a low voice: "Who are you?"
There is no hurry to write the report to Her Majesty.
He would first verify the information provided by the fox, and then judge the fox's position based on the results.
So Sherlock thought for a while, then sat down at the table and wrote and drew. It was a map of Lloyd's Quarter, and he was calculating the location of the abandoned chemical plant.
Then Sherlock suddenly picked up the phone on the table and turned the heavy dial on the phone with one hand.
The phone rang only twice before being picked up immediately.
"Morning, Edward."
So Sherlock clamped the microphone around his neck, and while continuing to draw on the map, he spoke very quickly: "My dear fellow, I hope you are awake - I mean, not awakened by me, but awakened naturally. Yes, I have something to ask you - yes, it is very troublesome. So I need your help, very urgently. Please come to me at once, and I can give you breakfast, at the place of your choice.
"—Yes, in Lloyd's. It's called the 'Sweater Brotherhood.' Do you remember it?"
Right now.
Red Queen District, Inspectorate Office.
Chief Inspector Edward Moriarty was answering the telephone with his white-gloved left hand.
He has short black hair that is neatly combed back. On his slightly angular face, his black eyes are as deep as the abyss.
Compared to his brothers and sisters, Edward's appearance is much more ordinary. He has slightly high cheekbones and a square face, which gives people a sense of righteousness.
He leaned back in his seat, wearing the inspector's signature black suit that looked like mourning clothes. He was so strong that he could easily fill the suit. The thick coat only reached his waist, and he wore slim black trousers and black leather shoes. There was a corner of a white handkerchief in his chest pocket, and his left hand was wearing a white glove, while his right hand was bare. The knuckles and bones were unusually clear, giving him a sense of strength.
Edward looked unhappy, but he did not hang up the phone.
After all, this was his best friend, his classmate... his most reliable old partner.
Inspector Moriarty's ungloved right hand slowly touched the paper.
There was a long list of names on it - that meant "to be inspected".
"The Sweater Brotherhood..."
Edward murmured in a low voice, squinting his eyes as he recalled: "I have heard of this name, but I don't have a deep impression of it."
His voice is low and magnetic, giving people a sense of reliability and calmness.
"That should be a gang of stranglers. They were called this name because when they were poor, they relied on the current leader's mother for help, and she made a set of sweaters with similar patterns for each of them. Later, they formed a gang and used this sweater as the name of their organization.
"Why, did they offend you? Or do you want to bribe them to do things for you?"
"—According to reliable information, they may be related to the mastermind behind the Pelican Bar. And I have obtained information about their gathering place."
Sherlock's distorted voice came from the other end of the phone: "So I invite you to investigate with me. I do have some concerns. If this information is true, then there are indeed dangerous factors that may put me to death."
Hearing this, Edward frowned slightly.
Under his black pupils, there was a dazzling silver-white light that gradually gathered and shone.
"really?"
Edward said in a deep voice: "You know who is behind them."
"Sixty percent. After all, I haven't had time to verify it yet." Sherlock replied.
"Your 60% is already very high, Hermes. I believe you."
"Then meet at my house, Inspector General. Bring your sidearm and white gloves."
"Okay, see you later."
Edward said this simply and hung up the phone.
He put a beautiful white short gun on his waist and hung two elven-style silver short swords.
Then Edward took out the white whistle necklace from his collar and blew it hard.
The white whistle did not make any sound, but after a while, the sound of a griffin flapping its wings was heard outside the floor-to-ceiling window.
He opened the window and let his black griffin mount in to eat something first.
After eating, he prepared to ride the griffin to Sherlock's house.
At this moment, there was a knock on his office door.
"—report to Deputy Assad."
Edward said in a cold voice: "Go to Madam Red for material approval. I have to go out for a while."
"It's me, Edward."
The soft, gentle voice of his adoptive father, James Moriarty, came from the door.
Edward raised his eyebrows, and his stern and cold face like an iceberg relaxed slightly.
He immediately went over and opened the door.
Because he was much taller than his adoptive father, he bowed slightly and spoke in a gentle tone: "Father, what's the matter? Why do you come to see me so early?"
"You're going out?"
The polite old gentleman glanced at the griffin who was eating in the room, pressed down the brim of his hat, and gently joked: "It just so happens that I also have to go on a long trip."
"Far away? How far?"
"I'm going to the Theocracy. I originally wanted to ask Oswald to go instead of me, but after thinking about it, I decided to go on my own for such an important matter. I'll probably be back in two weeks. Take good care of your brother and sister during this time."
Old James said in a gentle voice: "Oh, by the way. Aiwass is going back to school, remember to make arrangements."
"No problem, father."
The silent and stern young man nodded slightly: "I will go home and live during this period to protect the safety of Aiwass and Yulia."
"Well, that's good. Glass Island is going to be in chaos... One more thing," Old James added slowly, "Closing up the matter of the Pelican Bar and clearing up the clues. This matter ends here. If anyone still wants to continue investigating, let them be quiet."
"… yes."
"Oh, right."
Old James suddenly asked, "Haven't you found the letter I asked you to find before?"
"Yes, indeed there isn't."
Edward replied, "A lot of things that should have been on body number two were missing. Even her 'Noble Red' was missing."
"Then Aiwass should be taken away with him."
Old James said gently, "After all, Veronica's 'Noble Red' is also in your brother's hands. In that case, don't look for the letter anymore."
"Father," Edward couldn't help asking, "Which minister is in contact with the society... Can you tell me? If I don't know anything, I can't protect Aiwass."
"Shh..."
Old James smiled and put his fingers in front of his mouth.
Edward fell silent immediately.
The old man said slowly, "If Aiwass is in danger because of his justice and curiosity, let him solve it himself. Just last night, I detected the breath of the dream world. Aiwass began his first advancement ceremony... The child finally began to have some secrets of his own, I am very satisfied."
He narrowed his cloudy grey eyes and said gently, "As for the spy thing, I advise you not to know about it. Secrets are a kind of power. But secrets cannot become a sharp blade in your hands. They will only become shackles on your mind."
"Father… "
"—soon. Edward, soon. I will give all of this to you sooner or later... but not now."
"… What now? What should I do now?"
Edward was silent for a moment, then added, "Besides the finishing touches on the Pelican Bar..."
"Now you should do what you wanted to do before. Aren't you going out?"
The old man who would never get angry narrowed his eyes, patted the tall Edward on the shoulder, and said with a kind smile: "But remember to eat something. If you don't eat breakfast, it's not good for your stomach."