Hey
Are you sure about this?
As I quietly descended the long staircase leading to the basent of the mansion, a ssage, scribbled in haste, erged before my eyes.
Even after offering the best happy ending I possibly could in your current circumstance, youre really going to reject it?
.. .Yes.
It seed that the system didnt agree with my actions, but I had already resolved myself. There was no going back now.
I dont, cant understand this.
Im not doing this because I want to be understood.
Ignoring the system window before my eyes, I walked passed it and trudged along towards my destination. Montarily hesitating mid-air for a while, the translucent system window soon decided to follow .
?
Sensing sothing odd, I turned around, only to be greeted with the sight of the translucent window pausing mid-air as my gaze landed on it. However, once I shifted my gaze to the front once more, the window started following once more in a floating trail.
What is it?
What? I havent done anything
A mory of being stalked in the past ca to his mind due to its shady actions, prompting Adler to ask in a tone that was a bit frostier than usual. Hearing his rigid voice, the floating entity displayed so words in a hastily scribbled and sloppy handwriting.
Dont follow .
Are you really going to go down there?
How many tis must I say it?
However, as I remained adamant on my choice, the system changed the color of its writing to one of blood red. A warning ssage.
If you go down, youll die
Below those words written in bloody red, an array of probabilities that I possibly could not ignore began to be listed one by one.
Warning!
Probability of being Killed 50%
Probability of being Devoured 99%
Probability of being Turned into an Experintal Subject 10%
Probability of a Life Restoration Event occurring in the Future 0.01%
The contents were goosebump-inducing, to say the least. However, from the mont I declined the surefire happy-ending route, I had already made up my mind to not be swayed by these numbers.
The probabilities you showed were often off the mark, werent they?
It doesnt really calculate the imdiate likelihood of an event. Rather, it bases it on the possibilities youll face at the very end of your road.
You have endless excuses, dont you?
You designed it that way.
As I replied to the system with a calm and cold expression on my face, it replied back in a font that seed to be showing the resentnt it felt due to my statent.
Are you sure about reviving the final boss of the ga?
In a situation where youre not even forced by the duty of the sole probability of this world, are you really going to consu your one and only unique life restoration event?
Umm
The system, which had disappeared for a mont, suddenly erged before my eyes with a glaring question. And I couldnt help but look down and sigh at the question thrown my way.
Thats the thing.
My eyes were drawn to the professor, her lifeless body cradled in my arms in a princess carry, and imdiately, mories of the past began to surface in my mind one by one.
Among them, the one I most vividly recalled was the contents of The moirs of Sherlock Hols, a collection of short stories in the Sherlock Hos saga. The mont I first read through The Final Problem included in that anthology,
Theres a good reason for it.
Perhaps the decision I was about to make had already been decided from that very mont.
.
.
.
.
.
If asked why people were so fascinated by the Sherlock Hols series, nurous answers would likely erge.
The mysteries, with a near-endless supply of dramatic twists still considered intriguing even from a modern perspective. A comprehensive cast of unending characters vivid and lifelike from all angles.
Or perhaps, it was the catharsis one would obtain from seeing the obscure and irrational cases being neatly solved through crisp logic and an ability of deduction that was almost on the level of foresight.
But among everything, the overwhelmingly popular response would be the charm of the protagonist itself the great Sherlock Hols.
Sherlock Hols, just who was this man?
The very epito of what it ant to be a detective, that was what he was. He was the godfather of the detective archetype, influencing nearly all, if not all, detective characters that ca after him.
Moreover, he was considered one of the most adapted characters in the film industry arguably, the man ranked amongst the most successful creations to have ever been brought to light.
Recalling the comical incidents that befell Arthur Conan Doyle when Hols was killed off in the works, one could co to an understanding, and appreciation, of just how much fans loved and were practically enthralled by Sherlock Hols.
And that was true for as well. Particularly since I had encountered the eponymous series during a particularly rough patch of my life.
Although the mories had beco rather hazy these days, the bleak emotions I felt at that disheartening ti of my life were still enough to send shivers of dread down my very spine.
After all, how heartbroken must a child actor who neither wanted to act the role he got, nor did seek the unwanted attention that was perpetually placed on him have been to have lost his entire family in a traffic accident on the way to the set?
The Sherlock Hols series that I had chanced upon in the hospital, recomnded by one of the few friends who had visited in those dark tis, may not have been enough to change my life in its entirety but it had certainly been enough to help survive through those dark and miserable tis.
Thus, it was only natural for to beco deeply engrossed in the novels that had offered so much solace. Eventually, as one would expect, I turned into an ardent fan of the titular character Sherlock Hols.
Excluding my personal history, I probably didnt have much difference from any other Sherlockian up to that point.
However, on a fateful day as my discharge approached ever closer, the mont I completed The Final Problem in The moirs of Sherlock Hols anthology
That was the mont I had beco a bit different from your average Sherlockian.
It was probably the mont when the Sherlock Hols series utterly shook my life, turning it upside down in its entirety.
Since unlike ordinary fans who mourned the death of Sherlock Hols and vehently cursed the sudden appearance of Professor Moriarty
I was completely captivated by the newly introduced character captivated by the enigmatic Professor Moriarty captivated to such an extent that, it shook the very foundation on which Sherlock Hols had taken root in my heart.
.
.
.
.
.
I suppose I am quite the strange man, Professor.
Standing in a daze, lost in my idle recollection, I eventually began walking forward once more. Looking down, I gently caressed the now cold and lifeless cheeks of Professor Jane Moriarty with my hand.
Though I favor the role of a consulting detective, it seems that I have taken a liking for the role of a criminal consultant as well.
When I first read through the scene at Reichenbach Falls where Hols and Professor Moriarty t their mutual demise, I was deeply shocked.
The translated editions of the Sherlock Hols series my friend had brought for were missing several key stories, including The Adventure of the Empty House the historical chapter where Sherlock Hols shocked everyone with his return. So at the ti, I truly believed that the series had co to an end.
However, the shock did not manifest as sorrow or anger as it did for the typical readers of the series.
The criminal mastermind who had utterly outdone the always impeccable Sherlock Hols and even forced him to flee to Europe with Watson
I found myself completely overwheld by the charisma and terrifying atmosphere the villainous character exuded throughout the work, and I began to yearn to see him hunt down the forces of justice.
At first, it was clearly awe.
Even now, I was not quite sure why I felt such emotions
Perhaps to , who had always been a victim of cri since my childhood, the existence of an Invincible Criminal Consultant was both a source of fear and an object of admiration.
Or perhaps because my inherent nature was a shade of gray, a mix of black and white, as I moved between two parallel lines.
Now its clear, its not awe any longer.
Nevertheless, in the end, I still preferred the role of the Invincible Consulting Detective. I was so happy to see Hols returning in The Adventure of the Empty House a few months later that I quite literally cried.
However, a dark corner of my heart, forged from my endless childhood trauma, had always been occupied by the criminal consultant who had overwheld and shaken to my core.
Perhaps this was why I voluntarily took on the role of consultant a role shunned by many due to the blurring lines between good and evil in an organization that operated in the darkness but aspired for the light, just a few years back.
Maybe that was also the reason I ended up taking on the role of story consultant at a gaming company I joined after being unemployed from my role as a consultant of that company.
Reluctantly, I kept denying it because it reminded of my past traumas.
In any case, the conclusion I was able to reach was quite simple.
It seems I like villains as much as heroes.
I was an entity of half white and half black, half good and half evil a rather dualistic being if I say so myself.
Looking at my irises which now had different colors, it seed that I had an equal fondness for both characters. That explained why I had co to have such a disposition.
Now that I think about it, this does make seem like a trashy bastard, right?
It sounded a bit dubious, like proudly straddling the fence, but wasnt this still better than just liking villains over heroes as my old friend did?
Hey
Scratching my head as I had those fleeting thoughts I saw that the system window, which had been spinning around for a while already, had sent a ssage with a sense of urgency in the writing.
Are you really sure you want to die instead of the final boss?
Wait, is that even allowed?
Seeing an archaic door that started coming into my view from beyond the screen, it seed like the entity running the system had beco quite desperate by now.
But why was this thing making such a fuss?
Until recently, the system had pretended to not have any self-awareness and donned a very monotone and business-like attitude when dealing with . But why was it suddenly acting like this now?
Then who will play word chain with ?
Didnt you say that was boring?
Lost in thought and looking at the screen before with a befuddled expression, a ssage soon appeared after a brief silence.
Never mind.
Do whatever you want, however you want.
With those brief words, the entity along with the system window completely vanished from my sight, drifting into the unknown void.
Sohow, I felt uneasy by its last words but there was nothing I could do about it now.
Just wait a little more, Professor.
It was ti to punish the bitch who had the audacity to assassinate the Queen I swore to follow.
.
.
.
.
.
Squeak
A short while later
Bang!!!
The old basent door opened with a creak. And as soon as Adler entered through the door, a silver bullet was fired straight at him, evidently waiting for this very mont to be shot.
Fizzle
However, Adler, with a cold gaze, lightly waved his hand. And with that gesture, the bullet, blocked mid-air, quietly fell to the ground and rolled away from his sight.
Oh my. I thought you were unable to use magic currently.
Hiss
It looks like you have made so preparations of your own, this ti around.
In front of Adler, who spewed out smoke tinged with a golden aura, stood a rather frail-looking woman. She had disheveled hair, was donned in a coat, and had a sickening smile on her pale lips as she looked at Adler with clear intrigue.
Dr. Frankenstein.
Welco to my laboratory.
As Adler spoke her na, the woman, smiling brightly, spread her arms wide to both sides.
..
Behind her, in the darkness that stretched infinitely, the gleaming eyes of countless grotesque creatures began to flicker.
Why dont you co and lie down over here first?
Ill pass.
And at that mont, Adlers radiant golden aura started tinging with shades of gray and black, mixing into his very being.
I have soone I need to kill right now.
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