A few days after moving my residence to the dormitory of August Detective Academy.
"...I'm going crazy."
Having rummaged through the student files I obtained with Professor Moriarty's help for quite some time, I quietly sighed and flopped face-down onto the bed.
'Just who was that?'
The mysterious message that had appeared on my hand a few days ago.
The sender was probably Adler's fiancé from the original work, or someone she was seeing with marriage in mind.
Because while all contact from women since I possessed this body had come through letters, this person's contact alone had come through the transmission magic engraved on Adler's hand.
Because the name Adler had saved in that transmission magic was none other than "Fiancé."
'I have no idea.'
The problem was that I had no idea who that person was.
In the original work, Adler's fiancé was the British lawyer 'Godfrey Norton.'
Of course, since this world has the genders of characters switched, she would be a woman too.
However, according to my investigation, no woman with the surname 'Norton' who worked as a lawyer existed in London.
Just in case, I had searched through all the female students majoring in law at the academy, but no such person existed.
As a last resort, I had written letters to the mansion servants who were hospitalized, but judging by the butler who had visited me recently acting clueless, it didn't seem promising.
'It's going to be the 21st in a few days.'
The only contact channel Isaac Adler had registered. Just who was this person who had contacted me to meet on the evening of the 21st at some unknown location?
Isaac Adler from the story I had checked was already deceased at the point in the original work, so not much information was available.
In other words, it was a truly headache-inducing situation where even the possessor's knowledge couldn't find a single clue.
'No, maybe it's better not to meet at all.'
But thinking about it, not contacting that woman whose identity I didn't know might actually be better.
After all, Adler was trash, so he had undoubtedly been trying to seduce her with insolent intentions.
Because if she got involved with me from now on, it would become quite dangerous.
"...Ugh."
These burn marks that were still throbbing like crazy were the proof.
The arson incident at my mansion was currently under investigation by the police, but they hadn't been able to find any particular leads.
And if the police couldn't find leads, there was only one answer.
Intentional terror using mana.
Considering there were no mages among the servants, it meant someone from outside had secretly infiltrated the mansion and prepared such a trap.
It seemed there were people who hated Isaac Adler enough to want to kill him—not just among London's women, but among mages as well.
As expected, moving my residence here was the right choice.
"Up we go."
Lying on the bed sorting through complicated thoughts, I soon sighed and got up from my spot.
'I should take care of what's right in front of me first.'
If I kept holding onto things that wouldn't be solved no matter how much I thought about them, I'd end up unable to do anything at all.
So, I should do what I could do right now.
[Mr. Adler. Something urgent has come up.]
For example, meeting our professor who had been continuously sending messages to my hand since I registered her in the transmission magic.
[Come to my office.]
Somehow, the path of hardship ahead seemed clearly visible.
.
.
.
.
.
"You've come, Mr. Adler."
Arriving at Professor Moriarty's office with quick steps, Moriarty, sitting upright in her seat, quietly waved her hand.
"What is this urgent matter, Professor?"
"Truthfully, there is nothing particularly urgent."
As I looked at her and asked the question, the professor smirked and said so.
"I simply contacted you because I wanted to see you."
"Is that so. Then I shall take my leave."
"Entertaining a professor who is bored to death is one of a graduate student's primary duties, Mr. Adler."
As she snapped her fingers, the office door locked automatically, just like last time.
"I've been wondering since before—are you a mana user as well, Professor?"
"Well, who knows?"
The 'unidentified mana' presumed to have been used on the prince during the previous incident. The 'curse' said to be afflicting her, and so on.
There was an overflow of things I wanted to dig into regarding her.
"Let's save that for later. Shall we continue the conversation from last time?"
"The conversation from last time?"
"About the criminal organization. The one that will swallow London in the future."
But seeing Professor Moriarty's reaction, it seemed impossible for the time being.
"I was greatly looking forward to organizing such a terrifying organization. However, there hasn't been any significant progress these past few days, has there?"
"Such an organization cannot be built overnight."
"Hmm....."
Hearing my words, Moriarty made a slightly disappointed expression and rummaged through the bag of sugar cubes beside her desk.
"Detectives have it good. Even if they stay still, clients come to them on their own, and they can advertise legally."
"........"
"Certainly, that criminal consultation was interesting, but if the wait drags on this long, it becomes problematic."
Now that I looked, her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes held no life.
She looked similar to the withdrawal symptoms the original Holmes showed when lacking cases.
"How about it, don't you have some kind of method?"
Actually, her worries were something I had also been thinking about for the past few days.
Although Professor Moriarty would soon become a world-famous figure thanks to the binomial theorem paper published a few days ago, right now she was merely a first-year newly appointed professor.
And I, her assistant, was a figure infamous in London for all the wrong reasons.
So to sum it up in one word, we lacked name value.
Let alone establishing an organization, finding clients to consult on crimes was a bleak situation.
If such a situation continued for a few weeks—no, even just a few days—Moriarty's interest in criminal consultation would inevitably wane.
Even now, wasn't she chewing on sugar cubes with a gloomy expression just like Holmes without a case?
"There is a way."
"...What?"
But fortunately, after racking my brains for dear life over the past few days, I had come up with quite a good idea.
"There is a way to lay the foundation for an organization that will have our backs, while simultaneously finding our first client."
"........."
"And that is right now."
When I mentioned that idea, Professor Moriarty stopped listlessly mouthing the sugar cubes and began to light up.
"Adler, you always show me new things."
"You flatter me."
"So, what is this method?"
To her, I presented a document from my breast pocket and answered.
"You only need to stamp this."
"Oh, are you finally trying to make me a sex slave?"
"Please refrain from sexual harassment."
Professor Moriarty received the document I handed her with an excited expression, then quietly tilted her head.
"This is the method?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Hmm..."
It was understandable that she showed such a reaction.
"Mock Crime Consultation Club. The supervising professor is me, the president is you. It is certainly intriguing, however."
Because the document I had just handed her was none other than a club establishment permit.
"How does this become 'the method'?"
"You don't understand?"
"Honestly speaking, yes."
Looking down at the permit and tapping the desk with her hand, Moriarty soon began to speak.
"Since we currently lack name value, are you trying to use this method to scout the talent needed for the organization?"
"More or less."
"But you know. Even so, posting such an announcement at this academy where detectives gather seems like quite a poor move."
Her words certainly made sense.
If one were to establish a 'Mock Crime Club' at the finest detective academy in all of Europe, naturally only curious or idle detective wannabes would gather.
"Even if by some chance a student truly interested in crime shows up, distinguishing them would be impossible. Taking on requests would be even more difficult."
"......."
"And in the first place, if a student came with such intentions, common sense dictates they wouldn't be at a detective academy."
I looked at Professor Moriarty, who had refuted my proposal with considerably logical reasoning.
"...Haha."
Before I knew it, I let out a smirk.
"Why is that, Mr. Adler?"
It was because that common-sense logic didn't apply at this academy.
"It's nothing, Professor."
August Detective Academy.
The main stage of the game and the place where Holmes, the protagonist, would enroll in a year—here, too, lurked the criminals of the incidents that would occur in succession around that same time.
And I was certain.
Although I couldn't draw the attention of all of them, I could definitely draw the interest of at least one student to this club.
Moreover, the true culprit of the original 'Red-Headed League.'
If it was she, the fourth smartest woman in London.
Even if she wasn't on the level of Colonel Moran, the original Moriarty's right-hand man whose whereabouts were impossible to pinpoint, she would be sufficient as a member of the organization we were creating.
"Please stamp it quickly."
"Even after saying all this?"
"If you are not satisfied with this matter, you may kill me, Professor."
As I said so and looked at her, Moriarty began to tilt her head side to side with a faint smile.
A habit she often showed when deeply thinking about something or seeing something interesting.
Looking straight into my eyes without hiding such a habit, what was she thinking of me right now?
"So rest assured."
I felt a slight chill down my spine, but even so, I could maintain my composure.
Because the incident I was about to accelerate would surely become a considerably satisfying one for Professor Moriarty.
"From now on, I shall make London into a paradise made only for you, Professor."
Though I said that, only half of it was the truth.
Because the genius girl residing at 212B Baker Street would also be given an admission ticket to that paradise.
"Is this enough for an admission ticket, Mr. Adler?"
Of course, the first to enter was Professor Moriarty, stamping the permit with the corner of her lips raised.
"Thank you, Professor."
It was time to recruit a subordinate who would join the precarious tightrope walk between two geniuses.
.
.
.
.
.
That evening. The lobby of August Detective Academy.
"What the heck? Why are there so many people over there?"
"Did some new transfer student arrive or something?"
"No, if that were the case, they wouldn't all be crowded against the wall."
Students who had finished class began to murmur as they saw the crowd gathered around the bulletin board.
"...Mind your own business. It's probably just bored detective wannabes getting hooked on something again."
"Still, seeing so many people makes me curious."
"Then go take a look."
And from behind such people.
".........."
A girl was glaring at the bulletin board with a cold expression.
[Mock Crime Consultation Club]
[Our Mock Crime Consultation Club aims to directly become the culprit of a case and construct a crime; the interview location is Professor Moriarty's office on the 3rd floor...]
To be precise, the part written in large red letters at the very bottom of the bulletin board.
[※ Students who can wield red mana pass without interview. Full exemption from activity fees]
"...A coincidence?"
The girl muttered in a low voice, touched the mole on her forehead, and began to move toward the interview location on the 3rd floor.
"There are others thinking the same thing as me."