Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability - Chapter 93: The Battle Intensifies (3)
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- Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability
- Chapter 93: The Battle Intensifies (3)
The setting sun painted the evening sky in the shades of dusk. Under such a beautiful sky, in the hideout located in the depths of the back alleys…
“Mr. Adler.”
“… Yes?”
Professor Moriarty, entering the hideout with Adler in tow, turned to her beloved assistant, a smile stretching her lips, and spoke.
“This place remains as cozy as ever.”
“… Is that so?”
“I particularly like the subtle aroma of tea. It seems to be a rather fine product; do you perhaps have a hobby of enjoying tea, Mr. Adler?”
“I usually have a cup every day, but I wouldn’t say it’s a hobby.”
Adler deflected her inquiry, trying his best to not reveal that the tea, in fact, was a gift from the group of noblewomen with whom he had recently reconnected.
“Well, I prefer having tea myself.”
“… Wasn’t it coffee that you preferred, professor?”
“To be exact, I prefer sweetened milk tea. Keep that in mind when you serve me any beverage in the future.”
Moriarty whispered, her gaze never leaving him, and then surveyed the surroundings for a brief instance before continuing the talk.
“By the way, will you continue to use this place as your hideout?”
“Is there something you don’t like about the place?”
“No, quite the opposite, in fact. I am really fond of this place. To the extent that, I would prefer turning this into my office.”
“This humble place doesn’t seem fitting for someone of your stature to call home, Professor.”
“Mr. Adler, have you become so prickly that even a light jest elicits such a sharp response?”
Professor Moriarty tilted her head while delivering those words to him, prompting Isaac Adler to avoid her gaze; his mouth shut.
“So, what’s the problem?”
“My concern is that the location of this hideout has been exposed to that deranged murderer.”
Professor Moriarty murmured as she looked at the sofa where Jill the Ripper was previously seated during her visit. Immediately, her eyes darkened at the thought of the psychotic killer.
“Hence, if we keep using this place as our base, won’t we be continuously exposed to danger?”
“… That won’t be a problem.”
With a calm voice, mirroring the expression on his face, Adler began explaining his viewpoint on the matter.
“After all, this region is always exposed to danger.”
“Isn’t there too stark a difference in the risk posed by the riffraff of the backstreets and a psychotic serial killer who is after your life 24/7?”
“During the time she visited, I had deliberately dismissed my henchmen to make way for her.”
“Why would you do that?”
Instantly, Professor Moriarty’s gaze turned frigid.
“Because even if I’m slashed to pieces, I won’t die. Plus, I wanted to meet her at least once to have a little private chat.”
“……..”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Seeing the intensity in her gaze as her head turned toward him, Adler couldn’t help but awkwardly scratch his head…
“Didn’t you think that after failing to kill you, she might, in a fit of rage, dismember your entire body and then kidnap you?”
“That… Honestly, I hadn’t really considered such a scenario.”
A sly smile appeared on his face for the first time in a while.
“… But in the end, wouldn’t you have come to save me, Professor?”
“Now that’s more like the Isaac Adler I know.”
Silently, Professor Moriarty’s gaze rested on Adler for some time before being directed away as she murmured under her breath.
“But I won’t always be there to rescue you.”
“I know that. But it’s all right. I’ve already taken a few new precautions…”
“So, why don’t you use this opportunity and come live with me?”
“… Pardon?”
The sly smile etched on Adler’s face instantly wavered at her casually voiced suggestion.
“I’m thinking of getting a house in the suburbs. It’s not feasible for me to sleep at my office all the time, and now that I no longer need to travel pretty much every year to satisfy this needy curse of mine, I believe it’s time for me to settle down.”
“Ah…”
“So you might as well just live at my house.”
Stepping right in front of him in an abrupt instant, the professor whispered in his ears; her voice gentle and persuasive.
“I won’t even charge you for lodging.”
“………”
“I’ll provide meals, clothes, and a place to sleep. You just need to bring your body.”
“… And I assume that the reason for your proposition is not this very body you speak of, right?”
Adler’s sharp question only brought a smile to the professor’s lips.
“Are you still thinking about the proposal I made earlier?”
“………”
“Personally, I can’t see what there is to ponder about.”
Leaning slightly forward, she whispered into Adler’s ear in a soft, lustrous voice.
“No matter how much you rack your brains, the only possible events you’ll encounter are either seduction or rape.”
Adler’s face paled at her ominous words.
“Ah ha, ahahaha… I’m joking, jokingggg.”
“………”
“So, cheer up, Mr. Adler.”
Amidst the cheerful laughter, Professor Moriarty patted his shoulder in a consoling gesture.
“… You wouldn’t want to be raped instead of having a mutually agreed-upon relationship now, would you? All you need to do is just choose.”
“Well…”
“Let’s put aside this discussion for now.”
Leaving Adler behind, as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow with a faint tremble in his hand, Professor Moriarty headed for the comfy armchair placed in the center of the hideout.
“We’ll need to wrap up this case quickly, that way I will have the time to dye your eyes in my color.”
Then, resting her chin on her hand as she sat on the armchair, she began bobbing her head from side to side.
“… So, where is the client?”
“They should be arriving shortly.”
As soon as her words ended, the sounds of approaching steps began to echo from outside the hideout.
“Wait a moment. You’re going to meet them like this!?”
“And what of it?”
“Do you intend to reveal your appearance to the client?”
“Of course not.”
At Adler’s slightly flustered voice, she silently shook her head.
“I’ve always enjoyed concealing my identity, be it in the past or present.”
“Then…”
“Do you know the time the criminals of London prefer the most?”
As Adler tilted his head in confusion, the professor gently raised her hand and her eyes began to shimmer with power.
“… Dawn.”
Simultaneously, dense gray mana began gushing out of her hand and spreading everywhere one’s eye could witness.
“Similar to that hour of the day, the streets should have become shrouded in a blinding fog by now.”
– Tzzzzzz…
“The only difference is that the mist is not made of condensed water vapor but rather unidentifiable energies.”
Within the fog that spread thickly throughout the hideout, obscuring everyone’s view, the professor’s voice resonated loudly.
“The client is at a nearby pub. Bring her here.”
“Pardon? Weren’t they just about to come in?”
“That’s just the sound of my direct subordinates encircling the back alleys as we speak. You must have misunderstood, Mr. Adler.”
At her words, a slightly vacant look took over Adler’s eyes.
“It’s the first time a client has sought us out on their own; you never know what might happen.”
“………”
“Well, I’m counting on you, Mr. Adler.”
Silently biting his lips at those words, Adler rose from his seat.
“No, it is I who should be thanking you for counting on me. I’m always at your service, professor.”
Speaking those words, Adler quietly began heading towards the exit; his head lowered.
“….. This can’t go on.”
Right before stepping out, he murmured those meaningful words into the silent room, but Professor Moriarty simply smiled and looked ahead, remaining silent.
.
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.
.
Several minutes later…
“… Cough, cough.”
A young woman in a black suit entered through the shabby door of the hideout, which Adler had left open for her. No sooner had she entered, she began coughing at the pungent smoke drifting out of the hideout.
“What the— this place…”
“Come in.”
A slightly eerie female voice sounded right in front of her, in the midst of the pungent fog.
“Are you playing me for a fool?”
“It’s not a play. Merely taking a precaution to protect our identities.”
With a wary look, the woman peered into the foggy depths of the hideout and then quietly stepped forward.
“For the sake of protecting your identity, this smoke seems a bit too noxious.”
“Is that so? I’m accustomed to it. My apologies for the lack of consideration.”
“Well, never mind that. I haven’t come to this godforsaken place in search of kindness.”
At her dissatisfied grumbles, eerie chuckles began resonating from the fog.
“You do design crimes for the right price, correct?”
As a frigid chill spread through the room, the woman flinched for a moment. However, she soon recovered and asked in a confident tone.
“Indeed.”
The voice that returned was shadowy, with a hint of misty splendor. Illusory, yet real. A complex paradox.
“As long as you don’t attempt to uncover our identities, betray us, or fail to pay our due wages, we guarantee a perfect crime.”
“So, as long as I strictly adhere to our business arrangement, there’ll be no loss on my end, I assume?”
“Lastly, if you wish to conclude the matter with your own hands, we’re not responsible for any mistakes that may arise. Keep that in mind before you commission us.”
Hearing the voice, clearly indicating an intent not to reveal the identity of its owner, the client nodded in response.
“I perfectly understand.”
“Good, I appreciate the straightforwardness.”
Accustomed to the stuffy grey mist by now, the client’s eyes were able to make out a blurry figure seated in the armchair.
“Then, explain your request to me and my assistant in detail.”
“… What?”
“We need to know what the job is before we can get started, don’t we?”
“Well, yes, but…”
She began, looking at the figure with a mix of tension and confusion in her face.
“There’s no one here but you and me though…”
“Hmm?”
“Where’s the assistant you have mentioned?”
Silence flowed through the fog for a moment after the client’s answer.
“The person who brought you here from the pub— didn’t you see them?”
“That person gave me the address and took my seat at the bar…”
As a slightly frosty voice emerged from the silence, the client responded with a puzzled tilt of her head.
“When I left, I saw him ordering every type of drink at the bar…”
“………”
From the seated, blurred figure’s forehead, a bead of cold sweat began trickling down at the response.
“Busy day at work, I suppose?”
“… Oh dear… Haa…”
.
.
.
.
.
Hey, look…
Having sent the client from the pub to the hideout in a huff, I now faced an array of colorful bottles of liquor lined up in front of the table.
Excessive drinking is harmful to your health.
“… I’m already a mess, what’s it to you?”
Ignoring the system message that popped up before my eyes, I began uncapping the bottles one by one.
It’s bad for your body.
“I feel like I’ll be worse off if I don’t drink.”
Let me be, fucking damn it…!