Becoming Professor Moriartys Probability

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"Hmm?"

It was an unfamiliar ceiling.

".....?"

No, it was a somewhat familiar ceiling…

A bedroom that I seemed to have visited once before unfolded before my eyes.

"Are you coming to your senses now?"

As I was blankly looking at my surroundings, I turned my head toward the voice that came from beside me and froze in place.

"You've been unconscious for several days after being stabbed."

"Ah..."

"We even suspected some mental abnormalities due to your last response, but fortunately, it seems that's not the case."

The reason I froze was because Charlotte Holmes' soul partner, Rachel Watson, was sitting beside my bed with her hand placed on her chin.

"Holmes is investigating with a fire in her eyes, believing that you are severely injured. If it wasn't for her request, we wouldn't even be allowed in this VIP room..."

"Dr. Watson?"

"...You know my name? Even though you've never seen me before…"

As I was staring blankly at her and murmured her name, Rachel Watson squinted her eyes and asked me that question…

"I saw the name tag on your medical gown."

"The gown with that name tag is hanging by the door right now, so it has nothing to do with me."

"I should also mention that your fingertips smell of disinfectant, there's a mark of a stethoscope on your neck, and I can slightly see a trace of a gunshot wound on your shoulder."

"...Hmm."

"And on the medical gown, there is also a Medal of Honor. All of these characteristics match Dr. Watson, as described in the recently popular case files."

Upon hearing my explanation, Dr. Watson looked at herself for a split instant, made an expression as if to say I see, and quietly scratched her head.

Only then did her appearance clearly enter my field of vision… for the very first time since I had arrived in this twisted world.

She was the epitome of what one would call a Lady of London, diligent and neat in appearance. Short brown hair tinged with a hint of orange framed her beautiful face. However, there was also an unexpectedly tough look about her, befitting a military officer.

It was indeed the Rachel Watson I had investigated and had even seen in the game development phase.

"You're using a style of deduction I've seen many times already…"

Soon, she cleared her throat and spoke…

"It's the style of someone I've watched over and over. I liked it so much that I've managed to somewhat mimic it."

In reality, I had simply quoted lines from a game, but I couldn't say that so I fumbled my response somewhat.

"You…"

Then, all of a sudden, Watson's eyes turned icy cold.

"Tell me the truth."

"...Yes?"

"What's your real intention behind getting close to Charlotte?"

Unbefitting the image of a Lady of London, she crossed her arms and even crossed her legs as she looked down at me with a chilling gaze and threw her question.

"What intention are you talking about?"

"Well, you're trash. You…"

Then came a slightly heart-wrenching comment.

"That's a bit harsh."

"Is it something that someone who approaches seemingly vulnerable women to replace everything in their lives with himself, and then leaves them without a backward glance, would say?"

"....."

"Moreover, you even enjoy observing the woman you have ensnared crumble into pieces after you've left her alone."

The problem here was that… from Rachel Watson's perspective, all of this was completely true.

"You human garbage…"

"..."

"Just die already."

"...Is that something a doctor would say?"

"You should just end up in a vegetative state due to an accident."

Hearing such a cold statement from the most diligent lady in all of London was, truly strange, to say the least.

"...."

"I'm sorry, but making a pitiful face like that won't work on me."

So, as I quietly scratched my head while looking at Watson with a sullen gaze, she suddenly whispered, shaking her finger from side to side.

"I already have someone I've given my heart to."

As she spoke that line, and looked down at me with a self-assured expression, a single fang even protruded from the corner of her mouth— smug about that declaration of hers.

"I'm sorry, but you're not my type either."

"Hmph, you're pretty good with words. To someone like me who's been through an elite course and usually doesn't lose to anyone..."

"If you were to marry a gambler who dumps half of their military pension on horse races, you'd never know when you might get kidnapped in their stead."

Upon subtly leaking information about her from the original Sherlock Holmes story, Watson looked at me with a startled expression on her face.

"H-How do you know..."

"Even the timing on the betting slip sticking out of your pocket is perfect for a romantic weekend evening. Seems like you prefer horses over a romantic partner."

"No, that's not..."

"Or perhaps, do you have some hidden self-destructive tendencies?"

"Be quiet!"

As I looked at Watson who had shouted those words with an utterly flushed face, filled with a crippling sense of embarrassment, I whispered to her in a hushed tone.

"Shall I ruin you, Dr. Watson?"

"A-Are you threatening me right now?"

"Secretly plotting behind Holmes' back when she is always beside you… Wouldn't that be… thrilling?"

Upon hearing those words, Watson, as if not immune to such talk, trembled and stood up from her seat.

"I already had my suspicions, even if slight, when Charlotte gave up smoking and experimenting with mana stones... As expected, you're utter trash."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"Enough. You're a rude person."

So, did this mean I would have to go through a sham marriage with this righteous and upstanding lady?

"If you truly love Charlotte Holmes even a little, in that dark and wretched heart of yours, it would be best for you to give up on her and disappear completely."

Just when my vision was darkening due to this absurd condition, I heard Watson's icy voice in my ear.

"And keep this in mind."

"...."

"I will never fall for your tricks."

It was precisely at that moment.

- Bang!!!

"Ah!?"

The door to the VIP hospital room burst open, and in walked a towering woman.

"....."

With a single glance, she subdued the flustered nurses behind her. Exuding an aura that gave me chills, she stepped into my room.

"So…"

She was also someone I knew quite well.

"Who is Holmes here?"

The culprit from The Secrets of the Speckled Band incident, Lady Grace Roylott, was glaring at Watson and me, alternating her focus between us.

.

.

.

.

.

Her attire was wildly inappropriate for 19th-century London— tanned skin and toned muscles on full display, looking both fearsome and beautiful at the same time, akin to a queen of the Amazons.

"I won't ask twice."

Wrapped around her legs were leg guards, and in her hand, she swung a whip commonly used for hunting. With a voice full of menace, she asked the question once again, directing it toward us.

"Among you two, who is Charlotte Holmes..."

Then, Lady Roylott shifted her steps, her face suddenly adorned with a feral, cold smile.

"Never mind. There's only one woman here, after all."

"Wha-What are you..."

Just as Watson started to back away, breaking into a cold sweat under that overpowering atmosphere…

"It's me."

Adler, raising his hand, spoke with a thin smile.

"I am Charlotte Holmes."

"...No matter how I look at you, you look like a man from any and all angles."

"When I was young, I was quite frail, you see. My parents tried to twist fate by giving me a female name."

Having finished his explanation, Adler looked toward Watson and whispered in a soft voice.

"This is my assistant, Dr. Watson. I apologize, but could you step out for a moment, Watson dear?"

"...What?"

"I have a visitor who has come looking for me. I'd like to speak with her privately."

Upon hearing that cunning request, Watson hesitated for a moment and saw Adler's discreet gesture to get out of this place and thus stepped outside with cold sweat drenching her forehead.

"....."

Thus, with only Lady Roylott and Adler remaining inside the room, a deep silence ensued.

- Slap!!

"Speak now."

Breaking the silence was the muffled sound of Lady Roylott, who had slapped Adler across the cheek with all her might.

"Where is my daughter now?"

As her sudden action prompted a deep intake of breath from behind the door, Lady Roylott gripped Adler's collar, unfazed by her violent act, and questioned him once again in that fierce voice of hers.

"Are you talking about Helen Stoner, the young lady who caused a knife disturbance on the street a few days ago?"

"What did she say to you?"

"The weather has gotten quite cold lately."

"You think you can gloss over this?"

After that, a brief nerve-wracking standoff between the two ensued.

"...Ugh."

"Holmes, you lapdog of the London police."

The tension escalated as Lady Roylott, still gripping Adler's collar, climbed onto the bed and began to strangle him then and there.

"Ugh....."

Just then, at the very moment Adler was on the verge of losing consciousness atop the bed…

- Buzz...

"...Hm?"

Letters of a gray hue began to appear on Lady Roylott's hand.

｢This is not Holmes, Roylott.｣

"...Hmm."

Staring intently at the message which seemed hastily written despite its elegant script, she finally let go of Adler's throat, her expression as if the air had been let out of her.

"What a waste of effort."

With that, she twisted her wrist and descended from the bed.

"Are you an associate of Holmes?"

"....."

"If so, then convey this to her…"

At that moment, a message appeared before Adler's eyes.

"Withdraw from this affair and..."

"...This shouldn't be happening."

"What?"

Upon reading the message, Adler tilted his head to the side, adopting a serious expression on his face for the first time.

"You bastard, when someone is talking...!"

"Madam."

Just when Lady Roylott was about to unleash the anger she had been holding back, seeing Adler maintain his silent and pensive expression for some time…

"I have a favor to ask."

Suddenly, Adler, his eyes lighting up in an instant, pulled himself up from the bed.

"What..."

- Buzz...

Lady Roylott, who had been tilting her head at Adler's demeanor, widened her eyes when she saw Adler's eyes start to convert into a fiery red.

"...Please make me a part of your collection."

Adler, revealing his true form as a pureblooded vampire, was whispering those words while gently swaying his tail from side to side.

.

.

.

.

.

Rachel WatsonCharlotte HolmesProfessor Moriarty

As soon as I dared to make these statements, a flood of messages started to appear before my eyes.

Probability Error!Description:The conclusion probability of the canon event— The Secret of the Speckled Band case is severely lacking!

But at this crucial moment, when the fate of the world hung in the balance, there was no time to pay attention to such messages.

If the probability is not maintained, the world's erosion rate will increase!Current Case Progress: 56%Warning!Erosion Rate — 5%

An increase in the erosion rate in this world was extremely fatal.

Therefore, in the current situation where my plans had gone awry due to being incapacitated for a few days from merely being stabbed by a knife, I had no choice but to forcefully intervene in the case.

"...A vampire?"

"A pureblooded one at that."

And the way to do that was to become part of Lady Roylott's collection.

Inheriting some elements of the original setting, she was London's top collector and trainer who would lose her mind over rare animals and magical beasts.

Seeing my true form, she couldn't help but be completely captivated.

"What are you scheming?"

Therefore, as I wagged my tail eagerly, the lady asked with a glint in her eyes.

"I find myself in a rather dangerous situation."

Her eyes, which had gently lifted my chin trembled upon hearing my words.

"...So, I would like it if you could raise me in secrecy."

Upon finishing my sentence, grey and black letters began to shimmer on the palm of my hand, tingling as they appeared there.

"Alright."

However, there was no time to shift my gaze to them.

- Click...

Because Lady Roylott, pulling a spotted collar from the travel bag she had brought, whispered as she carefully fastened it around my neck.

"Get into the bag."

"...Alright."

As I started to feel her murky mana spreading around my neck, I stepped into the bag.

".....?"

As the zipper closed, I absentmindedly watched the disappearing light, then quietly tilted my head at the sudden notification.

Warning!– Probability of ??? —10%

What could this mean? I wondered in the darkness filled with utter silence…

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