Chapter 215
I’m Not Afraid of Trouble, Let Me Handle It
Hearing Sherlock’s words, Eivass raised an eyebrow and smiled meaningfully. “What do you think?”
“…I did have some ideas.”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze sharpening. “But now I suspect it might be you. Even if it’s not you, you at least know the inside story.”
“Who did you suspect originally?” Eivass asked with interest.
Sherlock bit on his unlit cigar and replied, “I originally wondered… could the Professor have faked his death?”
“Because the methods of this new minister seem somewhat similar to his. People who can contact the Queen and be trusted by Her Majesty without any prior achievements are few. Excluding those who are already ministers, there aren’t many left.”
Undoubtedly, the “Professor” Sherlock referred to was Eivass’s foster father, James Moriarty.
When he was investigating before, Sherlock had almost been killed by Edward. It was only because Sherlock had chickened out in the end that Edward, out of consideration for their friendship, hadn’t killed him to silence him.
Although Sherlock had claimed he would stop investigating, he hadn’t forgotten what he had discovered.
“Since you faked your death, and I faked my death… is it possible that the Professor also faked his death?”
Sherlock made a very reasonable inference. Others might not think of this possibility immediately, but this was within Sherlock’s realm of knowledge. Since Sherlock could realize this, he could naturally guess this possibility.
“From this perspective, it’s also possible that the minister is Edward. The Professor faked his death publicly and then secretly became Edward’s advisor…”
“Can’t it just be Edward?” Eivass countered with a hint of amusement. “Why does he have to be someone else’s proxy?”
“…Hmm.” Sherlock pondered for a moment and found a more polite way to respond. “I don’t think, given his personality, he would easily make such a decision.”
The implication was that Edward wasn’t that intelligent.
“Then do you think I resemble him?” Eivass asked with a smile.
“It’s plausible. Ignoring the curses that could invite controversy and backlash, and focusing on the abuse of female students by Master Lars… it’s a bit like your style.” Sherlock fell into thought. “But since you ask, perhaps this matter isn’t that simple…”
“Style? What style do I have?” Eivass was curious about Sherlock’s assessment, as he didn’t know himself what style he had.
Sherlock’s evaluation was: “A bit like an Iris Flower noble, or a newspaper editor, or a magician performing in a tavern.”
“So you mean a liar who spews falsehoods. That’s what you want to say, right?”
“More than that. Besides being skilled at lying and convincing, you are also very cunning. You say true words, yet you can mislead people in different directions. You like to play with words and language, and thus, play with people’s hearts…”
“I understand. You want to call me a fox spirit again, don’t you?”
“Yes, like the ‘fox spirit’ that the Taichu person spoke of,” Sherlock said impassively. “Vixen sed, that’s what it’s like.”
“Then what are you, a seagull? Or a pelican?” Eivass pointed at the cigar Sherlock was holding. “You’re holding a cigar but not smoking it.”
“I’m not smoking because you’re here, Mr. Fox,” Sherlock glared at Eivass, his tone not very friendly. “Madam Mina has told me many times that you are not in good health and I shouldn’t smoke in front of you — to be honest, I don’t see anything wrong with your health.”
“—Your complexion has improved quite a bit, Sherlock,” a clear and gentle voice came from the doorway at that moment. “Has your sleep schedule and diet become healthier?”
It was Mr. Mycroft Hermes.
Sherlock’s expression changed instantly. He retracted the foot he had propped on the table and straightened his lazily reclined body. He took the cigar out of his mouth — the cigar case was near Eivass, and he didn’t have time to put it back, so he intended to hide it under the table.
But that would be unhygienic. Eivass reached out and took the cigar, placing it back on the shelf in front of him.
The next moment, Madam Mina appeared at the door with Mycroft. Mycroft smiled and nodded slightly at Eivass. The tall, large man, resembling a plump seal, removed his black top hat, revealing black hair and bright amber eyes, just like Sherlock’s.
Eivass also stood up and returned the greeting with a smile and a hand over his chest.
“Your brother is here to see you, Sherlock,” Madam Mina said, looking somewhat troubled. “I wanted to help you fend him off, but he was very certain you were here… so I brought him up.”
Mina, dressed in her usual black fortune-teller dress, had clearly been minding the shop downstairs and was caught by Mycroft.
“Thank you for bringing me up, Madam Mina. I am very grateful — and thank you for taking good care of Sherlock. The House of Hermes will cover all his living expenses during this period and after.” Mycroft’s voice was not deep or imposing. He was not lazy, elegant, yet sharp like Sherlock, but gentle and comfortable, easily forgotten, yet always giving a sense of security. He was like a kind uncle or older cousin who always brought back gifts from business trips — a close elder, but not too directly involved, thus not scolding you daily. By maintaining a distance, their relationship became more amicable.
“It’s alright, Sherlock is very well-behaved. He’s not a child anymore, so I wasn’t really looking after him…” Mina glanced at Eivass, and after seeing him nod, she left with relief. “I still need to mind the shop, I’m sorry I can’t make tea for you…”
“It’s alright, Madam Mina. We’ll take care of ourselves,” Eivass said with a smile, waving goodbye and watching his landlady leave.
After Madam Mina left, Mycroft sat on another sofa between Eivass and Sherlock. As soon as he sat down, the sofa sank inward, making a creaking sound like stepping on snow under unbearable pressure. The first thing Mycroft did upon sitting down was to glance at the brand of the cigar on the table.
He looked at Sherlock and casually asked, “Ran out of money again?”
“Tsk…” Sherlock didn’t ask the foolish question, “How did you know?” Instead, he scratched his head with some distress. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked.” His “work” referred to solving cases for the Inspection Bureau, which paid him a bonus as remuneration for his work as a consultant detective.
“It’s not that. Your income isn’t low. It’s mainly because you’re too wasteful and never save money,” Mycroft looked at Sherlock, his gaze as calm as a lake. “You’re advancing in a few days, can you afford the materials for your advancement?”
“The Full Moon Ritual doesn’t require any expensive materials,” being stared at by his brother made Sherlock a little annoyed. “What can’t I afford? Besides, I’ve written a book, and I’ll have money when it’s published.”
“And you’ll spend it all again soon, won’t you?” Mycroft gazed at Sherlock and said gently and calmly, “You know, I’m talking about the Drunken Dream T.”
“It’s not my first time advancing, it’s not a big problem,” Sherlock was a bit stubborn. “Only by suffering immense pain in a dream, or by being disturbed in reality, can the advancement dream be interrupted. I’ve already had one normal advancement, and this time, Princess and Eivass are here…”
“It’s precisely because Princess is participating this time. What if something goes wrong on your end?” Mycroft didn’t get angry, but spoke slowly and deliberately. “You don’t think Princess Isabel is here to help you advance, do you?”
After he finished speaking, he took out two small boxes from his embrace. They were small, thumb-sized metal round boxes, like a cooling balm. They were engraved with a crescent moon pattern with a human face. It was the Drunken Dream T.
“These are new stock from this year, and they can be stored for several more years even if not used. One for each of you.” Mycroft smiled at Eivass. “This isn’t ‘compensation for taking care of Sherlock,’ nor is it a formal gift — consider it something I casually brought as a gift when visiting a friend.”
*This casual gift of yours is worth several hundred white crowns. A trained purebred hunting dog is about the same price.* Eivass thought. However, he didn’t refuse and accepted it directly. For him now, it wasn’t a large sum. Although he hadn’t taken over the Moriarty Family’s business yet, it was easy enough to ask Edward for money to buy a gift of equivalent value in return.
“Gift?” Sherlock keenly heard the word. “So it really was you behind the minister? After all?”
Mycroft didn’t pat Sherlock’s head, nor did he make any physical contact, but calmly said, “Since you know, you should show more respect to Minister Moriarty, Sherlock. Minister Moriarty is Her Majesty’s right-hand man, and he will likely be Her Majesty’s right-hand man in the future.”
“…Yes.” Sherlock reluctantly stood up and bowed to Eivass. “Please forgive my rudeness, Minister.”
Where Mycroft couldn’t see, he mouthed “fox” at Eivass. Eivass didn’t mind, but rather nodded repeatedly with a smile, feeling refreshed. As a member of the House of Hermes, loyal to the Iron-Blooded Queen’s faction… Sherlock was now at a disadvantage in front of him.
“How about it, Sherlock,” Eivass said with a smile. “Do you want to join my Ministry of Non-Intervention? I might still have a secretary position available.”
*I really do want to.* Sherlock thought. He didn’t completely dislike Avalon’s civil service system. He just disliked those ministers… He had once wanted to be Mycroft’s secretary, but Mycroft had casually thrown a few difficult questions at him, pushing him away.
*But how can I make it seem like I don’t want it that much?*
“Even if you say so, Her Majesty the Queen must approve,” Mycroft said from the side. “After all, Sherlock is not a civil servant. Although the Ministry of Non-Intervention doesn’t have departmental affairs, it’s not a place one can just be dropped into… He needs a title. What do you think of a Royal Agent? Minister Moriarty? This way, his faked death will have a reason and won’t seem too foolish — it’s a mission from Her Majesty, and our parents likely won’t be too harsh on him.”
“I think that’s fine,” Eivass agreed. “Please also send my regards to Lord Arthur.”
The two of them, singing in harmony, managed to settle Sherlock’s position. Sherlock didn’t dislike it either; on the contrary, he felt relieved.
Afterward, Mycroft smiled and began to discuss business matters — clearly, he hadn’t come solely to see his brother.
“Minister Moriarty, do you know about the Barrel Club I opened?”
“Sherlock mentioned it. What’s wrong? And please, just call me Eivass.”
“It’s a problem, neither big nor small,” Mycroft said slowly. “Mr. Lars Graham entrusted some documents and assets to my club. I don’t wish for this matter to attract the attention of the Inspection Bureau, as the Barrel Club is frequented by people who dislike trouble and noise. However, it’s also not ideal for me to handle these things privately… So, could you come and bear witness for us? If you believe something is dangerous and requires personal safekeeping, you can point it out to us, thus avoiding unnecessary trouble caused by improper containment and storage.”
The implication was: *We dare not touch the things left by the Bone Sculpture. If you want them, please take them away. We’re afraid of causing trouble.*
“Of course… no problem,” Eivass said with a smile. “I’m not afraid of trouble.”
Update complete!
Although it’s a bit late, today’s update is nearly eight thousand characters!
