Raison D'être

There were only one or two letters in my life for which I did not begrudge the postage.
-Henry David Thoreau-

Just before I removed my disguise, I followed the man called ‘Wilson.’

He was moving under Irene Adler’s orders to flush the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg into the sewer, but I didn’t want to entrust London’s future to something as uncertain as the flow of a river.

“Pardon me for a moment.”

I quietly concealed my presence as I followed behind him, then spoke in my original voice. Because striking a man from behind without so much as a warning or greeting is, indeed, improper.

“…?!”
“Too slow.”

By the time he turned around, I had already removed the mask and was driving a straight punch in.

-Kwajik!

The butler, struck square in the face by the ambush, seemed to be at a fairly high realm. He staggered back and took up the stance of a claw technique.

“Who the hell are you?!”

The butler quickly thrust out his left hand to strike, but my next move reached him even faster.

“My apologies. I didn’t bring a sword today, so I don’t think I’ll be able to control my strength very well.”

I firmly locked his wrist with my right elbow point and knee, and at the same time released impact into his side abdomen.

At the same time, I drove my left fist into his opposite flank.

“Baritsu, Bare-Knuckle—”

Trigonometric Trap-Hand.

-Kwaang!

Among Baritsu’s fist techniques specialized for counters, it was a move that delivered three strikes and inflicted severe internal injury.

I had no intention of killing him, so the tragedy of the butler collapsing in a spray of blood did not occur, but the successive impacts disrupted and pierced his Defense Essence.

Wilson staggered with the whites of his eyes showing, then fell.

I have no intention of letting someone die in a burning house merely because they are of the underworld.
He wasn’t unconscious, so he could crawl out of the estate somehow.

“If it weren’t for the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg, we could have fought fair and square. What a shame.”

The elderly butler Wilson, in terms of sheer force, was stronger than Irene Adler.
If we fought properly, it would have taken longer.

But this was a situation where efficiency mattered, so I had to use tricks I normally wouldn’t, and even resort to cowardly means without hesitation.

“Here it is.”

As I kept walking in the direction the butler had been heading, the kitchen appeared.

No matter how many secrets lurked in the Afternoon Tea Party’s base, its basic structure could not be different from other great London estates.

I approached the chef, who still hadn’t grasped the situation and was sweating as he heated the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg, knocked him out with an acupoint strike, and easily seized the egg.

The sous-chef and others preparing the meal in the kitchen, having learned a bit of Kung-Fu, charged with knives, but trying to face me with knives meant for ingredients was absurd.

Their professionalism, giving everything to keep their ingredients from being stolen mid-cooking, was quite moving, but on my side there was the greater cause.

“Stop being a nuisance and move aside.”

After neutralizing everyone in the kitchen with nonlethal tricks and acupoint strikes, I returned to where the secret entrance to the underground prison and the table had been.

The Afternoon Tea Party members still in the estate rushed me, but there was practically no one among them at a high realm.

Most likely, the old men who had poured out the back door earlier were their main force.

If they kept needlessly strong Kung-Fuists in the estate, Irene would only draw needless suspicion from the social luminaries she regularly invited to parties, so it seemed only weaklings were left.

And Irene, the one person who might have been able to face me, had her feet bound by Head Professor Louise, so the plan was already as good as done.

If I brought the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg safely to the sea like this, London would avoid baptism by fire.

That was what I thought, but.

“Put down what you’re holding and surrender! Little Heavenly Demon!!”

The elderly Afternoon Tea Party members who had left the estate once before had returned at some point and were surrounding me.

“Well… if the Party Leader’s estate is on fire, it’s only natural they’d hurry back.”

It was something I’d felt earlier, so it wasn’t new, but the faces of these gentlemen, each holding weapons and taking stances, were very familiar.

The shop owner I met when I rented the training hall at Newens, the managers of pubs and tea rooms where London’s famous gathered, even the proprietor of a luxury hotel.

People connected to establishments frequented by the upper-middle class were gathered in one place.

“As expected, these are faces that would make Miss Adler not want to show herself to me.”

That they had left under the Party Leader’s orders and then returned meant saving Irene Adler, the Mistress of Green Willow, mattered more than their identities being exposed.

Capturing a lone elder and taking his clothes had been fine, but the problem was that the rest realized Green Willow Manor was burning early and came back.

“The primadonna must be happy. She has followers in abundance.”

I don’t know how Miss Adler tamed them, but it was commendable loyalty.

Or else, they were confident they could overwhelm me with numbers and kill me.

Perhaps it was both.

“Surrender? If I walk out of here alive like this, or if I don’t submit to Miss Irene Adler, you’ll be in quite a bind. What are you relying on?”
“So you understand. If you want to return alive, kneel even now! If you refuse, I’ll cut you down!”

I slowly assessed those forming the encirclement.

There were nine. Thanks to my quickly knocking one out earlier with the Butler Agency agents’ help, it had at least been reduced to this.
They were likely the Afternoon Tea Party elders.

‘As for realm, even the weakest-looking one has reached the early peak. The strongest… is around the level of either reaching or barely not reaching ripe peak.’

Considering that elders of other major orthodox factions had reached at least the Transcendent Realm, it was power that was contemptible beyond measure.

I can say for certain. Each of them individually is undoubtedly weaker than me.
But.

“Don’t tell me you think you can face all of us.”

It was also true that if they unleashed a combined attack, it would be difficult to guarantee victory.

“That depends on the situation, but it certainly won’t be easy to get out of here in time.”

The elders had already gone outside once and returned, so unlike Irene’s mistaken belief that all of London was burning, they would know the truth.

Above all, if they had already communicated with Irene, trapped underground, by Direct Message and grasped the full situation, they would bear no ordinary hostility toward me.

If I focused only on escaping with the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg in a hurry, I would fail to evade blades and become a porcupine.

“Now then, what to do.”

I was speaking casually, but in truth, dealing with that many wasn’t easy.

If I were fighting without restrictions like usual, perhaps, but right now I was bearing two constraints.

First, if I held the egg, one hand was sealed.

With their numerical advantage, it was obvious they would attack me while trying to seize the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg.

In this situation, without the Heavenly Demon Cane, smashing all nine bare-handed would be difficult unless luck favored me.

Above all, I had to constantly remain aware of the Vermilion Phoenix’s presence approaching London by the moment.

Simply put, there was a time limit.

-Ddakdadakddakddak!

Even now, inside the shell, the chick was playing a rhythmic beat of liberation with its beak.

This little thing wouldn’t stop until its mother or father found it.

The instinct to be born into the world is among the strongest traits life possesses.

If I had aptitude for ice arts, I could freeze this thing and prevent it from sending intent to its parent phoenix to reveal its location, but unfortunately that was impossible.

It’s true I’d like to learn it if I had the chance someday, but the Essence I possessed had strong Yang nature, so it likely wouldn’t suit my aptitude and would be difficult.

In any case, if I compared this situation to Sword Debate Chess, it meant I had to play while the incense burned down quickly, after giving up a rook and a bishop.

“…Right. Since seniors who command a whole clan have gathered with such difficulty, it wouldn’t be polite to leave without even fighting properly.”
“You’ll fight all of us using only one hand?”
“The brat is arrogant to the bone!”
“It seems the seniors are misunderstanding something.”

I answered the Afternoon Tea Party elders who tried to judge my character carelessly.

“This little detective intends to show the sincerity he has been holding back. I mean to say I will go all out with the strength I hid even at the royal ballroom.”
“What… did you say?!”

Of the two people I asked for help besides Ulrich and Yan, Head Professor Louise arrived on time, but the other still hadn’t shown.

At this point, I had no choice but to use even the demonic art I’d been holding back, subdue the Afternoon Tea Party elders, and head for the sea.

‘If I can endure until I reach the ship—no more, no less….’

If I used demonic arts, something black hiding in my head might burst out, but it was far better for me to go mad for a moment than for London to become ashes.

I had escaped the danger of the poison Irene Adler planted in my body, but the schemes I prepared to protect London from the Vermilion Phoenix’s threat were beginning to run dry, and I was starting to grow impatient.

My master warned me not to even dream of using demonic arts unless absolutely necessary, but if so, he should never have taught me in the first place.

It was enough if I could keep my sanity only until I reached the fast boat the Butler Agency prepared.

Mycroft would handle the rest on his own.

Both delivering the egg to the Vermilion Phoenix, and me suffering demonic art’s side effects.

I don’t want to admit it, but he is a man more cold-blooded and quick-minded than me.
I can’t imagine him being swayed by emotion and ruining things.

“My hand may become too heavy unintentionally, so I’ll apologize in advance.”

I steeled myself and circulated the clear Essence flowing through my elixir field and acupoints in reverse.

Paradox.

At the very moment when I removed the safety device hidden in Renewal Lionheart Method’s mnemonic verses and inverted it, and the pure internal energy instantly began emitting a turbid Qi Frequency.

-Clang!!!!

A man in blue leapt into Green Willow Manor, shattering a window blackened by fire.

An outfit with striking large sleeves and a hat.

The old man, who looked to be in his late sixties, had both hands wrapped in crackling Thunderbolt Qi that shone brightly.

“I’m from the Central Post Office. I heard there is an item you wish to have delivered.”

Without even sparing a glance at the Afternoon Tea Party elders, he calmly asked me.

No doubt about it.

He was the postman who, the morning after I crossed into London Murim, performed Jesus Walk atop a puddle of rainwater on Baker Street.

It seemed Sir Fawcett had moved in time.

“Charge the fee to the Butler Agency, payment on delivery.”

With that, all constraints vanished.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I threw him the Vermilion Phoenix’s egg and charged at the Afternoon Tea Party.