Hit Dice (2)

A human held in the hands of the gods is like an insect placed on the palm of a thunder-bald monkey, killed by whim.
-William Shakespeare, -

-Bang!
-Bang bang!!
-Brrrrr!!!
-Brrrrrrrrrr!!!

Before Watson’s scream had even fully died down, the sound of Fingertips began ringing through the lodging house.
A din like a battlefield.
Even through the door, I could feel the intense killing intent Watson was giving off.
Sticky, dark intent that the gentle Jane Watson would never hold toward a human was pouring out along with massive Yin Qi.

“Die! Mr. Bug! Die! Die! You bastard! Die!”

It was true that the White Worm had not fully grown and was still small, and that Watson’s panic made her aim waver, but if you fire Fingertips a lot, it really does hit.
We could repair the lodging house walls by sacrificing Watson’s wages, but if this kept up, there was a risk the White Worm would be killed in an explosion-fatality from the sprayed Fingertips.
Having judged that, I decided to act, even at the cost of impropriety.

One deep breath.
I placed my hand on the doorknob and pulled.

“Watson! Calm down! That worm is not only a Fantastic Beast¹, but also a beneficial insect like spiders, bees, and earthworms, and a treasure under heaven! For the public good of Murim, please show mercy in your hand! I, Holmes, beg of you—”

The moment I opened the door, I met eyes with Watson in disheveled clothing.
Pajamas with the buttons undone. The instant her pale shoulder entered my vision, Watson shouted furiously.

“…Get out!!”

-Bang!

A point-blank Fingertips strike hit my forehead.
I toppled straight to the floor.

A little later.

“So you’re saying you’re the one who let the bug loose?”

-Nod.

I was kneeling in the living room.
Watson, wearing a fake mustache, was glaring at me in her Kung-Fu suit.
Thanks to my unfurling of Self Defense Essence, even if only thinly, in time, it ended with just a small bump, but the problem was that Watson still had not cooled off.

“Haa… What would Mrs. Hudson say if she knew…”

Watson’s eyebrows were still trembling.
Waking up to a huge caterpillar greeting you right in front of your eyes would be startling.

Meanwhile, as for the White Worm, the cause of the situation.

-Wriggle-wriggle♪

About fifteen seconds ago, it finished a satisfying meal of the potent medicinal ingredients Watson took out for it, and now it was shaking its body happily, digesting at the same time.

“If you’re going to raise a living creature, shouldn’t you get the consent of your housemates and the landlady? If you had just told me in advance, I wouldn’t have been this flustered.”
“…You’re a hundred times right. It’s all my fault.”

This time, there was no room for excuses, so I had to admit my fault readily.
Because my reason and intuition were warning me that if I provoked Watson’s anger further here, I truly would not even be able to gather my bones.

One fortunate thing was that right after I fell (compared to when she was rampaging earlier, even if only a little) Watson regained her senses and recognized that the caterpillar was the White Worm she had seen before.

“In any case, it’s a good thing I have a keen eye. If Fingertips had hit by mistake, the White Worm would not have kept its life.”

Watson explained that when she saw it half-asleep earlier, she was startled by the White Worm’s grotesque appearance and unleashed vicious moves wildly, but she soon noticed that although the size was different, it had the same shape as the bug that had been stuck to Yan’s chest.

However, my opinion was slightly different.
I recalled what I witnessed earlier when I opened the bedroom door while Watson was firing Fingertips.
Astonishingly, the White Worm was nimbly springing its body this way and that, avoiding all of Watson’s techniques.
Frankly, it was hard to believe, but what could I do when it was true?
Watson was a highly trained soldier, so even firing Fingertips half-asleep, she was aiming precisely at the White Worm’s body.
The reason the White Worm could evade the barrage of Fingertips was not because the target was small.
Relying solely on its body technique, it was leaping between floor and wall, showing marvelous movement like the cheese-fly maggots dancing atop Casu Marzu², which Casanova was said to have enjoyed.

It was widely known that Fantastic Beasts possessed intelligence and physical ability beyond comparison with ordinary animals or insects, and that they could even perform circulate Qi.
But I never imagined that a plump caterpillar that looked as dull as could be would move that swiftly.

“Well, this time it wasn’t a venomous bug, and it didn’t harm me, so I’ll let it go. It must have been starving to bore a hole in the flowerpot and jump out. This is all because you didn’t take responsibility.”
“…”
“University laboratories, as well as even the Liverpool Tanne Family that’s rumored to be vicious, still regularly feed the lab mice they use. What do you think a living life is, exactly. If you didn’t have the confidence to cherish and care for it properly, you shouldn’t have raised it in the first place.”
“…”
“Didn’t you say with your own mouth that this child is a treasure of the Chelmsford Yan Family. That undertaker trusted you and left this child with you, and yet you leave it under the bed because feeding it is such a bother. Truly, you, as a person, don’t try to care about anything other than solving crimes.”
“Watson…?”
“Put yourself in my position. I wake up feeling nice, and this huge bug is on the blanket, straightening its body and moving its head this way and that. Answer me, Holmes. What would have gone through your head if it were you?”
“Uh… Joy at discovering a rare Fantastic Beast?”
“Search And Destroy. As a soldier of Great Britain, I couldn’t not suspect an assassination attempt using a venomous bug. Do you understand? You go around making enemies of all sorts of terrifying people, including the Zion Clan, so I’m supposed to be able to live in peace, am I, huh!”

Watson continued her lecture, hands on her waist, back straight.
What would you do if you caused it a heart attack and paralyzed the middle elixir field at this rate?
If the White Worm had died, the responsibility would lie not with her, but with me, who neglected its care.
A nagging more dreadful than rapid-fire Fingertips on a battlefield continued without end.
Just when it seemed about to end, the lecture flowed naturally into the next topic with a rhymed cadence, as if she had strung together twelve twelve-line sonnets, so seamless that the phrase ‘flawless’ did not feel wasted.
If I closed my eyes, I felt I would be scolded for not listening properly, so I roused the profundity of the moving training included in Baritsu and began a small rotation, calming the boiling Inner Demon, Papiyas.
For now, the fault truly lay with me, so I had to sit still and listen to Watson.

Watson and Mrs. Hudson still didn’t know the most important secret.
That I intentionally allowed the maid to administer various poisons into their meals, and on top of that, I ground up the antidote pill, a secretion made by the White Worm, and put it into their food.
If even that were discovered, I truly would not keep my life.
I never dreamed I would have to fear Watson’s anger more than Moriarty’s.
In any case, this one thing must never be exposed.

Thinking that, I finally emptied my mind and was letting Watson’s nagging enter one ear and exit the other.

“Mr. Holmes. There’s a visitor.”

From outside, I heard Mrs. Hudson, who, having gone to the market to buy ingredients and thus not hearing the noise caused by Watson’s Fingertips spray, calling out.

“Hm. Strange. I think I heard Doctor Watson’s voice. Are you both still sleeping? Just wait a moment. I’ll go up and wake you.”

Only then did Watson look past the open bedroom door and see the hole-riddled wall and floor, and her expression turned gloomy.
“Ah, what do I do… I spent all my money buying betting tickets…”

Neither Watson nor I even thought to lean out the window and answer Mrs. Hudson.
Mrs. Hudson cherished Watson, so she would obviously bill me for the repairs, but Watson herself had a gentle disposition, so she was likely feeling guilty.

However, this situation might become a good opportunity for me.
If I eased Watson’s guilt now, could I end the sermon even a little earlier and wrap this up.

“Don’t worry, Watson. This is all my responsibility, so Mrs. Hudson will have no reason to blame you.”
“Holmes…!”

As expected, Watson was looking up at me with a moved expression.
Yes. Rather than continue this barren conversation, this one-sided verbal assault, and spend my precious mental strength, if I apologized cleanly to Mrs. Hudson and told her the bug was a precious Fantastic Beast, I could pay a not-too-expensive repair bill and end this.
I stretched my tingling legs, stood up, and leaned my head out the window.
Mrs. Hudson had already opened the door and entered the first-floor entryway with the visitor.
All that remained was to soothe her and explain things so she wouldn’t be startled when she came upstairs.
Rather than be nagged by Watson, it was better to be scolded by Mrs. Hudson, who was used to situations like this.

As I was thinking that.

“Mr. Holmes? Are you in there?”
“Is Holmes there? It’s me. You worked hard yesterday.”

Beside Mrs. Hudson, who opened the second-floor lodging door and appeared, stood the visitor.
Yan The Taker.
In other words, the very person who entrusted the White Worm to me.

-Wriggle!

Perhaps sensing the presence of the individual attached to Yan’s chest, the White Worm twisted its body excitedly, as if delighted.

“…”
“Oh. It’s already grown this much.”

While Mrs. Hudson fell silent at the White Worm’s grotesque shape, Yan strode right up to the White Worm and brought his face close.
Only then did I realize.
All this time, I had not once said that I was hiding the fact that I was raising the White Worm from Watson and Mrs. Hudson, the landlady.
And Yan is a Living Dead.
Unless I had a talisman made by the Maoshan Clan or the Chelmsford Yan Family, I could not attempt communication with Yan, a Living Dead, via Direct Message.
In other words, if Yan spoke the secret I was hiding in this situation—

-Glug.

The next moment, the White Worm facing Yan vomited up a large antidote pill.

“…Holmes, what in the world is that?”
“Uh…”

As I struggled over what to say, Yan opened his mouth before me, clueless.

“Ah. This. Didn’t Holmes tell you. If you feed the White Worm poison, it coughs up a precious antidote pill. The antidote pill tastes a bit odd, but it gives perfect immunity to the original poison—”

Oh Lord.