[Sender: KIM573]
[Subject: To the Story Department—Read This If You Don't Want to Ruin This Game Any Further.]
[This game's illustrations, graphics, and optimization are beyond reproach. Almost everything is perfect.
If only I could exclude one thing—the story your department is in charge of.
To be honest, with a game of this quality, I don't think commercial success would be an issue unless the story was extremely terrible.
But that doesn't mean you can completely butcher the work's internal consistency like this.
I'll let the main characters all being gender-bent into women slide as a distinctive feature of the work. But I cannot overlook the fact that the majority of characters are idiots.
If you wanted the protagonist to shine, you should have devised well-crafted tricks. What do you think you're doing nerfing the intelligence of everyone around them in a mystery game?
Moreover, why are all the incidents crude knock-offs of the Sherlock Holmes series?
Urban fantasy of detectives tracking bizarre incidents occurring in fin-de-siècle London, where supernatural abilities exist.
How can I possibly understand why you're squandering such an attractive setting?
I also can't understand why you insist on using only cases from the Sherlock Holmes series when there are so many characters and works you could intertwine.
And even though the era spans the late 19th to early 20th century, is it even plausible that so-called detectives don't know about fingerprints? Surely this isn't something you included under the guise of historical accuracy?
The London Police adopted fingerprint investigation in 1901. Even in the Sherlock Holmes series that the game is based on, it wasn't Holmes but an inspector who first mentioned the importance of fingerprints.
Ordinary citizens might not know, but for professional detectives of that era to be unaware of the importance of fingerprints is a blatant historical inaccuracy.
Of course, this isn't the only problem. Your story is filled with various plausibility issues and historical inaccuracies.
But the absolute worst of all is the final mastermind who suddenly pops up at the ending and wraps everything up—Professor Jane Moriarty.
To use a charming character like Moriarty as a one-off, and in the worst possible way at that.
You couldn't properly research what needed researching, so why did you go out of your way to accurately research this?
As a story consultant, I simply cannot condone such a story.
Throw it all out and start over from scratch. Until every bit of this absurd story's plausibility is fully satisfied.
Until then, I absolutely cannot approve it. I will stop it even if I have to stake my life on it.
Well then, have a good day.]
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To summarize the soul-bearing 5,700-character message I sent a few days ago to the story department of the game company I work for, it basically contained these points.
After several phone calls that followed, I was eventually summoned to their conference room.
In front of them, who couldn't understand my words at all, I poured out an impassioned argument filled with resentment before losing consciousness right then and there.
And now that I've woken up and come to my senses, I deeply regret sending that correspondence.
"Now then, I shall conclude today's class."
The final boss of the game we're developing.
The very being who epitomizes nonsensical story development.
But for sheer impact alone, Professor Jane Moriarty was overwhelming.
"Do not forget to stop by my office."
Somehow, I had ended up declaring right to her face that she would fall to her death at Reichenbach Falls in her later years.
As a bonus, I had stylishly packaged and mentioned achievements of hers that hadn't even happened yet at this point in time.
'This is obviously possession.'
Sitting blankly in silence until everyone left the classroom, I soon thought quietly to myself.
'That damn company. No wonder something felt off.'
I had never actually met the developers or the CEO. Since I, as a story consultant, had been working almost entirely from home.
Now that I think about it, today was my first time visiting the company too. The expressions on people's faces when I was passionately arguing in the conference room had somehow been unusual as well.
I should have been more careful about employment. I quickly took the job after seeing only the high salary and stable work environment, and this is what I get.
'...I should go, right?'
I already realized this situation wasn't a dream. Because I had pinched my cheeks several times.
It seems I had possessed the bishoujo mystery game our company was developing, based on the Sherlock Holmes series.
And not during the era when Professor Moriarty reigned as the Napoleon of the criminal underworld, but when she had just been appointed as a professor at the Academy.
Then now is the time to move for survival.
To be honest, thinking about my situation, I wanted to spend a few days in a daze alone, but right now my life was in danger.
Because I had drawn aggro from none other than the game's final boss.
Honestly, I wanted to run away from this detective academy right now.
But thinking of Professor Moriarty's temperament, that would be impossible.
I'd probably be stuffed and displayed in her house within a few years, no, a few months.
Therefore, I moved my steps toward Professor Moriarty's office with extreme reluctance.
Recalling the old saying that even if you enter a tiger's den, you can survive as long as you keep your wits.
'...Maybe, it might pass surprisingly smoothly.'
And thinking about it, it wasn't something to worry so much about.
I'm only this scared because I know what kind of person Moriarty will become, but right now she is just a young professor, not the ruler of the underworld.
Who knows? Even Moriarty, born with the blood of crime, might have had a somewhat kind heart in her early twenties.
And even if she intends to do something to me, at least within this sanctuary of detectives, she wouldn't be able to touch me.
"Hmm..."
Though I consoled myself with such thoughts, when her office door came into view, tension began to rise on its own.
As the story consultant, I was familiar with most characters appearing in this game, but Jane Moriarty, who suddenly pops out in the ending, was an unknown entity even to me.
Therefore, I had no idea what would happen when I opened this door.
"...Hoo."
- Knock, knock, knock...!
So after contemplating in front of the door for quite a while, I eventually took a deep breath and knocked.
- Come in.
At Professor Moriarty's voice that soon followed, I entered with my wits fully gathered.
"Oh my."
And the next moment, before I could properly take in the scenery of the room, what I was met with was—
- Squelch...
On the sofa across from Professor Moriarty, the Academy Dean with a hole in his head, bleeding out.
'Fuck, that's one of the mid-bosses.'
Though my mind went blank for a moment, soon a powerful survival instinct made me step backward toward the door.
"Ah, it's you."
But Professor Moriarty looked at me with a delighted expression, flicking her fingers.
- Click...!
Then the door locked tightly before I could even do anything.
"I thought you were a smart person. Did I perhaps misjudge you?"
Immediately after, she—who had been wiping the bright red blood splattered on her face with a handkerchief—smiled at me and opened her mouth.
"Fidgeting with the mana condenser hidden in your uniform pocket is not a very good habit."
Her words were true.
Just as Holmes had done when feeling threatened by Moriarty, who had suddenly come to visit him, I too had secretly prepared a self-defense measure for emergencies.
If a life-threatening situation occurred, I intended to use the mana condenser the original owner of this possessed body had as a weapon.
"It could cause mana to backflow and become dangerous, you know. Isn't that right, student?"
But Moriarty, who had seen through such behavior as simply as in the original work, stared at me intently while pointing at the top of her desk.
- Click...
Trying to appear as calm as possible while looking at her, I placed the mana condenser on the desk where she was pointing.
"Not intending to die alone. That's a very good attitude."
While keeping one hand still holding the condenser, that is.
'The situation is not good.'
I could barely maintain this battle of nerves with Moriarty in a way that suggested I would self-destruct if things went wrong, but my current situation was significantly unfavorable.
Judging by the blood continuing to flow from the corpse of the old gentleman behind me, it seemed she had just committed murder.
But she deliberately let me enter in such a situation.
I didn't know what she was thinking, but looking at the sharp gaze beneath her smile, she seemed to be testing me somehow.
The key issue was what she was testing, though.
'Calm down, stay calm.'
The fear that I could lose my life at any moment. The nausea rising at the sight of a corpse I'd never seen before in my life. The anxiety that I actually had no idea how to use the mana condenser.
Nevertheless, I maintained my composure with all my might.
Because I had a hunch that if I showed even the slightest sign of faltering here, my life would be cut short on the spot.
"What do you want?"
But I couldn't keep this up forever.
With outside access blocked, the more time passed, the more disadvantageous it was for me.
So I threw a question with the most nonchalant voice I could muster, but what came back was Professor Moriarty's counter-question.
"Rather, what is it you want from me?"
"You succeeded in escaping my clutches perfectly. Yet instead of reporting me, you accepted my invitation and came here."
As I listened blankly to her incomprehensible words, Professor Moriarty added while sending her gaze to the mana condenser.
"And now, you're even threatening me in return."
And a terrifying silence began to flow for a moment.
Moriarty, who broke that silence, began to tilt her head like a lizard while looking at me with eyes full of curiosity.
"I'm dying to know what someone like you could want from me."
"Won't you give me an answer?"
Soon, silence began to flow in the office once more. Within that silence, I forced my whitened mind to start turning.
Judging by her reaction, Moriarty seemed quite interested in me. But the problem was that I could roughly predict how that interest would end.
Then what kind of answer should I give to avoid being killed by her?
How should I answer to turn her capricious interest into favor?
What did Moriarty like in the original work?
What could I say to make a professor take a liking to me?
"Why are you silent, student?"
There was no more time.
For better or worse, it was time to say something.
"I want to become a graduate student."
With my eyes closed tightly, I blurted out the idea that had just popped into my head.
"Under you, specifically, Professor."
Abandoning human rights to survive. That was the conclusion I had reached.
"What do you think?"
Praying that the young Moriarty held a strong identity as a professor, I began to wait for her answer.
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- Ding!
It was at that very moment.
[Villain Maker: Professor Moriarty's Appearance Plausibility Fulfilled]
Along with a cheerful sound, messages of unknown origin began floating before my eyes.
[Progress: 1%]
"...Huh?"
What the hell is this now, dammit.