by Feng Yue
No one could imagine that the arrogant and proud Pyramid King would be reduced to this state. He looked like a dead and rotting rat. Anyone could see that it was all over for him.
Ever since he had realized that he lost his notebook last night, he started panicking. At first, he hoped that Holmes could not read his notes. But who would have known that his code could be read as easily as a novel?
In the morning, he received the news—many people were secretly searching for him. He had hoped the elites could protect him, but when he found out that they had received mysterious letters, he knew that it was all over for him. In the past, they had been the Pyramid Scheme’s protective shield, but now they were the ones out for the Pyramid Scheme’s blood.
Soon, his hard work would be uprooted and wiped out cruelly, with a new face after they erased his existence. A new dog would be in place to continue working for the elites. He must die—he would die. Nobody would allow someone who knew too much to live, especially someone like Sam, who was willing to say anything to survive.
As his innards twisted in pain, he bit down on the blanket, forcing himself to endure the dizziness and fatigue. He could not fall asleep. Once he did, everything would be over.
“Faster, faster…” he murmured, his eyes full of fear. He had thought that his escape was perfect, but when he boarded the ship, he realized that he had been cursed with the Blood Curse. He realized that the fatal noose had been around his neck all this time. If he moved even a little, he would die from asphyxiation.
Now, he just wished he could leave Avalon as soon as possible. The musician who had cursed him was in Avalon. The further he was from the city, the weaker the curse would be. He could only hope that he could find someone who could undo the curse in time, but this was impossible. The crisp voice in his ears was getting clearer.
It was the melody of the noose, digging into his bones and destroying him, “One blind mouse, two blind mice, three blind mice! See how they run!”
All that could be heard in the stillness was the sound of the boils popping, and Sam’s pained moans. But somehow, he could hear children singing quietly. The song was cruel, eating away at his life like maggots in his bones, “Cut off their tails, dig out the small eyes, the cute furry body. Rip off their paws, shave the sweet bone marrow, the warm organs are gone…”
The crisp voice continued to sing in his ears, “Did you ever see such a sight in your life, as three blind mice…three blind mice, three blind mice…”
Face ghastly pale, Sam suddenly opened his mouth and threw up the food in his intestines. They had rotted, like stew made from garbage…
Sam froze. He raised his hand blankly. His trembling hand was numb. It seemed to have disappeared, and that was left was a bag of skin and bones. He looked up at the drawer. The mirror on it had shattered. The shards landed before him, reflecting his withered face.
Warm blood flowed from his eyes, nose, and mouth, cruelly taking away any warmth from his body. He tried screaming out in despair, but he no longer had the strength to scream. He wanted to cry, but had no tears. He prayed to the gods, to the demons, to the monsters, to anything that could help. He was willing to give up anything in order to live.
“Including your soul?” a sandy voice asked softly in his ear. He used the last of his strength to raise his head, looking at the figure that had appeared.
Sam no longer had the strength to be afraid. Bloody tears of gratitude rolled from the corner of his eyes. He blinked with difficulty. The blinks seemed to say, “Please save me, please save. Please, you must save me. No matter what…just let me live.”
“Then sign this.” The cold shadow tossed him a contract branded with a music piece, “If you still have the strength to sell your soul, you can live.”
Finally saved, the Pyramid King writhed painfully on the ground. Like a decaying caterpillar, he squirmed toward the open contract.
He was like a sinner in hell squirming toward heaven, begging for salvation. Full of hope, full of humiliation, full of joy, he raised his rotting hand bit by bit and pressed it down onto the contract. The paper lit up with a cloudy light and lit up in flames, vanishing.
“Very good.” The black-robed shadow smiled in the darkness and snapped his fingers. The children’s voices suddenly stopped, disappearing with a scream. All that was left was a dying and decaying body on the ground, using its last breath.
“Congratulations. You can continue living after selling your last item.” The shadow reached out a delicate and white hand. The amber ring on his finger reflected a gentle yet eerie light. “Greet your new master.”
On the ground, the Pyramid King shed tears of gratitude. He kissed the ring sincerely, “Yes, my great master, the great Professor, the great…Lord Moriarty.”
121 Good Friend
It was dusk. The last bit sunlight slowly faded away, but the basement light was still on. Charles studied the leather robe on the hanger, mending the tears and holes. The design had been perfect enough, but now he could see that once something was actually put in use, there would be problems. Many problems had arisen in just one night.
Charles opened the lining, checking the ‘steel bone’ structure inside. He muttered to himself, “The shoulder’s shock absorbance isn’t good enough. There might be metal fatigue as time goes on. There are problems with the force guidance too, but it should be easy to fix. Its own stability… junior’s really good at coming up with hard questions. I have to make it lighter, but still strong…”
“Still working?” a voice sounded behind him.
“Professor?” Charles turned around in shock, “Shouldn’t you be teaching?”
Abraham shrugged, “The only student who’s willing to come also ditched today.”
“What about junior?”
“Still sleeping. Maybe he’s tired.”
“He can get tired too? Sounds like a joke.” Charles shook his head, “Sometimes I feel like he’s made of steel. But even if he’s steel, he shouldn’t put so much pressure on himself. He can get metal fatigue too. He’s already reached the Rhythm level in one month…”
“It’s already been one month? It feels like only a few days have passed.” Abraham sighed, “I had worried that you two wouldn’t get along, but now it seems like you two are good friends.”
“Good friends?” Thinking of something, Charles laughed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just heard a joke a few days ago,” Charles said. “Good friends are like stars. No matter how often you see them, you know that if you look up, you’ll see them watching you from afar, not doing anything.”
“…Charles, why do I find you more and more annoying?”
“Professor, I try not to be,” Charles said helplessly. “Once I dreamed of a really interesting comic about a bat knight. He would fight against the evils in his city and had many powerful enemies. While he was fighting for justice, he met a group of powerful friends.
“Some of them were able to fly, and their eyes could shoot lasers. Some were female warriors in bikinis, others had green light, and another one could talk with fish. They united and even became members of a tight-clothing club together. But no matter how many friends he had, the bat knight always fought by himself. When he faced powerful enemies, his good friends were useless…just like Yezi.”
Looking back at the robe, Charles’ eyes darkened. “Professor, look, I want to be a superhero that can shoot lasers with my eyes too, but sadly, I’m just a pile of useless trash. Sometimes, I really feel like I’ll become the useless friend too.”
Abraham was silent for a long time. Finally, he patted Charles’s shoulders, saying, “Some people are not destined to receive help.”
Charles shrugged.
—
“But anyway, I feel like Junior is a little weird these days.”
“Maybe he grew up?” Abraham nodded, “You were like this too. You’d always hide under the bed to look at porn.”
“Uh, I’m not tal
king about that,” Charles quickly explained, almost choking on his spit. “I mean that he looks the same as before but he looks scared of something.”
“Oh.” Abraham nodded.
“Professor, do you have any solutions?”
Abraham shook his head.
“You can’t do anything either?”
“From what I see, just let him be scared. Why should you force yourself to stop being scared?” Abraham looked at him, “Charles, didn’t you have many nightmares when you were little?”
Charles’s smile froze and he looked away, “That’s all in the past.”
“Yes, everything will pass,” Abraham said. The room fell silent again.
Charles studied the steel bone structure in the long silence. He suddenly asked, “Professor, are you scared of anything?”
“Yes, many things.” Abraham nodded calmly, though his eyes were bitter. “A few days ago, I was scared the academy wouldn’t pay me… You know, you owe too much money. If you can’t pay them back, it’ll be hard for you to stay here.”
“Uh…”
Seeing his expression, Abraham laughed, “The older you get, the more things you worry about, and the more things you fear. When I was young, I kept thinking how great it would be if wasn’t scared of anything, but is that really better? Do you really have to force yourself?”
As Charles thought, Abraham reached over and lifted the robe. “Did you make this? It’s good.”
Charles shrugged, “I can’t be a musician, so I can just make these small things.”
“There’s nothing regretful about not becoming a musician. If you are a renowned artisan, you can be respected too. There’s no problem as long as you can live well. There aren’t any rules about what you must do. I had wanted to train Yezi to become a scholar, but sadly, it seems like he probably doesn’t want to. I can only help him in a different way.”
With that, Abraham reached into the air, slowing opening his prosthetic fingers as if grasping something. Then the “Requiem” enchantment over the academy cracked open.
The omnipresent enchantment in the air began turning secretly. Thick and solid aether rushed through the crack, flowing into the basement. It shimmered with a beautiful glow. A black violin appeared in the black metal hand. The strings vibrated, playing a graceful and quiet melody. The entire world seemed to hush.
Everything stopped rushing around, entering an indescribable peace, as if falling into a beautiful dream. There was no more death, no more uncertainty, no more confusion. Everything returned to a calm state.
This was a fragment of the legendary Wyrmrest Kekkai. It came from the calming Requiem and could make all Musician level scores ineffective—Resonance level music score: Tranquility!
The aether rippled with the melody. Everything in its path fell asleep. Abraham stood within the ripples, conducting the melody. He guided the aether onto the black robe, transforming into music notes.
Layers of complex music scores shimmered on the steel bone structure before dimming. In the end, they disappeared with the melody, reverting back to its original appearance. The music score of Tranquility had been sealed within.
Abraham was not an alchemist from the School of Modifications, but he had used his studies in the School of Abstinence to turn the score into a seal implanted into the robe to become alchemy equipment.
“Compared to professional alchemists, the seal I’ve made can only be used once.” Abraham shook his head regretfully, putting the robe back on the hanger, “But it should be enough for now.”
Charles felt the power within the robe, discerning it, “Once the Tranquility Enchantment is activated, everything within ten meters will become a silent aether zone. It’s only for half a minute, but all music scores under the Resonance level, and musicians who haven’t gone past the Barrier of Knowledge will be unable to manipulate aether. No matter what, he can at least stay alive with it.”
Abraham remained silent, glancing at his steel arm. The constantly flashing rune on his inner arm seemed to be reminding him of something. He reached over, feeling the easily-activated rune and the power it held. The ‘music score’ was enough to turn the entire building into ash—that was his shackle.
Abraham looked away, sighing, “That is all I can do.”
—
Ye Qingxuan awoke from his dream, his entire body sore. The over-manipulation of aether made him nauseous. Jiu Xiao Huan Pei could help him with precise manipulation, but performing complex notes still exhausted him. Even if his father had made Black Friday just for him, he needed to create each interval by himself.
He needed to overlap the music notes and put them into the structure of an interval. It was like putting words into a phrase, phrases into a sentence, and then making a paragraph—that was the ‘measure’ of a music piece. Each measure needed his total focus. If he had not hid in the coffin beforehand in the graveyard, he would have been found easily.
“Hopefully it won’t be so tiring today.” Rubbing his face, Ye Qingxuan climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom for a shower. When he saw himself in the mirror, he almost freaked out.
—
Under the dim light, a white-haired youth stood silently in the shadows, staring at the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he had a lack of sleep, but his gaze was sharp, like a sword becoming sharper with use.
He no longer looked at the forgotten friendships and indifferences. He was no longer full of enthusiasm. He had received some things and lost others.
Maybe Charles was right. The classroom was where one learned by shedding blood and tears. The best way to learn was pain. Downtown was a good school, even if he learned things he did not want to.
Ye Qingxuan looked at the mirror. After a long time, he sighed.
“Junior, do you think you’ve gotten so attractive that you can’t even recognize yourself?” a voice came from the side.
Ye Qingxuan shook subconsciously. “Senior, can you not scare me like that?” he sighed.
“I know, I know. It’s annoying to get interrupted when you’re drunk on your own beauty.” Charles came closer. He fixed his hair, his eyes full of adoration. “To be honest, I get that feeling a lot. How can the handsome man in the mirror be me? Whenever I see that someone can be so handsome, my knees get weak. When I looked at the mirror a few days ago, I almost kneeled down to myself!”
“Senior!” Ye Qingxuan seriously wanted to slap this guy.
“Okay, I know. Shut up, right?” Charles shrugged and patted Ye Qingxuan’s shoulders. “But Junior…”
“Huh?” Charles played with the soap by the sink and whistled, “You’ve been out of the shower for so long. Haven’t you noticed that you’re not wearing pants?”
“…” Ye Qingxuan looked up into the sky, sighing. He did not care who was listening to his prayers, but he just wanted someone to strike this guy with lightning.
122 Deduction After Dinner
In a remote tavern in downtown, a bedraggled man drank wine with large gulps under the dim yellow light. His eyes were dazed and his hair was messy. His clothing was originally clean, but had become dirty with its owner’s “care.” Failures like him could be seen everywhere in downtown, getting drunk and escaping from reality. But he seemed to be rich, and could afford the expensive wines.
“F*ck, a bunch of bullsh*t!” Lestrade spat. He downed the wine and snapped his fingers, calling the bartender for another bottle.
The bartender seemed not to have heard and did not reply. Angry, Lestrade moved to flip the table over, but a bottle was placed before him. He was already wasted, but he could still see that it was black market whiskey from Burgundy. Thirty bottles were produced annually. It was a rare luxury.
A figure sat before him. One could see from the contours that the man was dressed well and was full of grace. Voice gentle, he asked, “Hey, friend, mind if I sit here? I’ve had a good harvest recently, and I want to celebrate. I need a friend to share with.”
Lestrade opened
his eyes, but he was drunk and could not see clearly. The newcomer took off his hat, and placed it on the table. Then he opened the bottle smoothly and poured two glasses, “Cheers to the mighty Avalon.”
The gentlemanly figure raised his glass. Lestrade hesitated. Pursing his lips, he raised his as well. “F*ck Avalon.”
Downing the glass in one shot, the sweet liquor rolled down his throat, waking his drowsy senses. Pursing his lips, he tossed the glass and stuck up his middle finger, “Okay, you can scram now.”
“So uncivilized,” the newcomer sighed. He finished the glass and set it down. “Friend, why must you drink by yourself? Life is short. You need a friend to talk about your worries with. You need a good listener.”
“You f*cking lunatic…” Rolling his eyes, Lestrade slammed his hand onto the table and stood up, ready to leave.
“Sit,” the elegant voice said behind him.
For some reason, Lestrade’s vision blurred, his knees buckled, and he sat in the chair again.
“Very good. This is the basis of a conversation. You must be polite and open your heart.” As Lestrade’s eyes widened in shock, the newcomer laughed quietly. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Inspector Lestrade. I’ve heard much about you…”
Lestrade was awake instantly. He opened his eyes, finally seeing the man clearly. A chill ran down his spine.
The man who called himself Holmes sat in the shadow under the swaying light. Dim light illuminated his robe, but the robe was beastly—menacing and terrifying. The candlelight danced across his face but could not illuminate his features. It was all a blur. And in the blurriness, two dark orbs reflected the light like burning flames.
The rest of the bar seemed to fade with the man’s appearance. They seemed to be in a different world. People passed by, but no one spared them a glance.
Holmes laughed, his voice hoarse. “Seems that you’re still drunk. Why don’t we play a game?” He pulled a marble from his pocket and tossed it into the glass before him. Then he flipped the two glasses over and moved them around at a dizzying speed. When the short but fast movements ended, Sherlock let go and pointed at the two glasses. “Guess where the marble is.”
