The Big Brother

True Kung-Fu, rare learning, and friends are few and precious.
-British Proverb-

The moment we finished our meal, we sent a telegram to the Central Post Office and set off at once in a carriage.

While we sat, Watson couldn’t meet my eyes for some reason. Perhaps she’d grown awkward after laying out such candid words.

As expected, when I’m with Jane, I must keep a more delicate frame of mind than when dealing with a man.

As for me, perhaps it was the aftereffect of offering praise so sincere it was unimaginable in my usual restrained manner. Some corner of my heart felt peculiarly itchy.

“……”
“……”

And so we kept silence for nearly eight-tenths of our travel time.

The conversation we did have in the remaining two-tenths was quite practical.

For one, it was about the ten years’ worth of boarding fees I had paid Mrs. Hudson.

“…Holmes. I couldn’t say it earlier, in the confusion, but.”
“Hm?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll end up owing Mrs. Hudson, but I will certainly pay you, month by month, the boarding fee I ought to pay.”

Watson said it while looking at me with eyes so serious it seemed she’d made some great resolve.

“Hm……”

To be honest, I had no intention of taking money from Watson.

Even before crossing into London Murim, I had a habit of prepaying Mrs. Hudson’s fees whenever I came into a lump sum, and handing over gold today was merely an extension of that habit.

The remaining gold would likewise be exchanged into money little by little, to buy elixirs needed for Watson’s treatment and my training, or to purchase poisons to feed the White Worm, simply to procure what we required.

But the weight of the gold Her Majesty bestowed looked roughly comparable to my own body weight.

Even if I bought a new violin and remodeled the boarding house’s empty third floor (Mrs. Hudson would gladly permit it) to set up Watson’s clinic, it was a sum that would keep us from wanting for money for quite some time.

In such circumstances, was Watson’s insistence, out of consideration for me, that she would continue paying what she ought, an expression of responsibility befitting a retired soldier?

Either way, the thoughtfulness she showed me was something to be grateful for.

And so, all the more, I had no intention of taking money from Watson.

“There’s no need for that, Watson.”
“No, no matter the favor between friends, the amount is far too….”
“The reason I can focus on solving cases is entirely because you take on the roles of assistant and attending physician. Normally, don’t you look after my body with the Umbilicus Point and acupuncture treatments more than three times a week?”
“T-That is only because I’m grateful to you for helping treat meridian blockage disorder—”
“Did I not gain much in the process of treating you as well? Even this time, when I interpreted the secret manual Her Majesty bestowed and raised my realm, the Buddhist enlightenment I gained while treating your meridian blockage disorder proved effective, so don’t trouble yourself over it.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Previously, when I stayed with Watson in the tea room’s training hall, I succeeded in entering a Faust Moment for the first time, driven by a single resolve: to save her.

Through that, my understanding of Buddhist Kung-Fu deepened, and thanks to it I could grasp the subtle difference in intent between Emptiness Essence, Kingswood’s Heritage Essence, and the power required to wield the Ancient Tomb Clan’s Kung-Fu.

If I had not met Watson in this world, I could not have even dreamed of eyeing the transcendent realm before reaching thirty.

“Holmes…!”

Meanwhile, Watson looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

“For something like this.”

At first, I thought caring for John’s younger sibling was the minimum atonement I could offer.

But now it was different.

I was gradually accepting Jane as an existence no different from the Watson with whom I shared my previous life.

And this feeling of mine could coexist perfectly well with my resolve to find John Watson, who would be waiting for me somewhere in this world, and bring him to 221B Baker Street.

Jane Is John, John Is Jane.

I was merely repaying what I had left undone to a friend I never properly faced, never even exchanged a farewell with.

“No matter how you try to hoard money gained by luck, it slips between your fingers. To a duelist, wealth is like mere dust. When the Supreme Saint returns, is it not something you cannot take with you when you ascend in a new body?”

Perhaps above all because I had died once and lived again.

In the past, I often extracted high fees from wealthy upper-class clients, but now my attachment to money had grown faint.

Money is certainly indispensable for living in the martial world, but the most important thing is to use it properly.

What use is there in piling up wealth you cannot share with those precious to you?

“Isn’t this only natural between us? When you win money gambling, don’t you always try to buy me drink?”

Watson nodded, reluctantly.

I saw her face and realized my objective had been achieved.

‘For the next few years, I must leave Watson with a burden on her heart, so, in fact, this worked out well….’

The various cases I had remembered and experienced were repeating in London Murim as well, only the timing differed.

In my previous life, a woman named Mary Morstan appeared and married Watson, so in this world too I must not let my guard down.

This time as well, I must cut off at the source the possibility that she might try to snatch Watson, John or Jane, it made no difference, from me.

One fortunate point was that Jane Watson, as a retired soldier, was a woman with conservative notions, so she would not be drawn to Mary Morstan, who was the same sex.

In any case, for Watson to remain by my side for a long time, I needed to prepare, somehow, to prevent Mary Morstan from growing close to Watson when the case John recorded under the title ‘The Sign Of The Four’ occurred and Mary Morstan came to Baker Street.

Making Watson feel grateful and sorry toward me and rely on me, was bait for making the plan succeed.

Even if I could cast aside everything else to bring down Moriarty, this act had begun from a selfish desire to grasp the one thing I did not want to lose.

So—

“…Thank you, Holmes. I will surely repay this kindness.”

Watson has no need to thank me.

“You’re welcome.”

I answered Watson with the smoothest smile I could manage, then flung open the Central Post Office’s door with all my strength.

When we told the postal Kung-Fuist the purpose of our visit, he led us to an office on the top floor of the Central Post Office.

With the Home Secretary, Sir Harcourt, hospitalized, the cabinet ministers’ workload must have increased far beyond before, and I could only be grateful he made time even so.

The moment we entered the office, I saw warm afternoon sunlight pouring in through a wide-open window, illuminating a middle-aged man with his back to us.

London’s weather had remained cloudless and clear, under the lingering influence of the Vermilion Phoenix’s trip to the North Sea, but I was more concerned with the Postmaster General’s condition than with the brilliant sunlight.

-Coo-coo.

We heard the door open, but the first to react was not the office’s owner, it was the spirit beast homing pigeon he kept, David.

It glared at me viciously at once, then brought the tip of its wing before its beak.
It looked as though it were warning me not to disturb its master, who was deep in thought.

“……”
“……”

It wasn’t that we feared a pigeon, but Watson and I did as it indicated—

‘His energy is completely different from the last time I saw him….’

I knew it the instant I saw Sir Fawcett’s back.

The Qi Frequency he once emanated was sunk as calmly as a lake, of a sort whose bottom could not be seen.

But what of the Postmaster General now, enjoying the sunlight at the window with his hands clasped behind his back?

He looked as though someone had contained the radiance of lightning striking amid spring rain within the shape of a man.

The very nature of his aura had changed.

It felt as though this space’s temperature was rising, however faintly, simply because he was here.

Seeing that the peculiar humming oscillation emitted by one who trained the Santiago Kunlun Cathedral’s Brain Stopper now carried an eerie heat as well, it was clear that the rare experience of facing the Vermilion Phoenix and surviving had caused a tremendous change in his mental image and Intent.

As I was thinking that—

-Hwaak!

Sir Fawcett’s hot aura was gathered up in an instant, and the warm breeze that had been blowing through the office died away.

Tok.

Sir Fawcett turned and angled his head precisely toward Watson and me.

In case we might disturb a minister in meditation, Watson and I had not even let out a breath, yet the Postmaster General’s face was aimed at us without the slightest error.

It was not Kung-Fu Echolocation.

Unlike before, when he could not see and constantly sent out sound imbued with internal energy to locate people and objects, now he seemed able to move without any inconvenience even without relying on hearing.

“It has been some time, Minister. You have achieved a great attainment in the meantime.”
“…Isn’t it said, ‘After three days apart, you must look again with new eyes’? One must not cease improving simply because one has grown old.”

In the face that smiled softly, twice the depth of years showed compared to before.

Burn marks had appeared on his jaw and forehead, likely traces left by the Vermilion Phoenix’s baptism.

Of course, the changes to Sir Fawcett’s face were not limited to scars.

It was like an illusion that skin whose wounds had not yet healed was emitting radiance.

I had not known such a thing was possible even without the halo that could be called a Christianism Clan master’s symbol.

A change profound enough to make one wonder whether a sun had taken residence within him.

If I asked now, could I hear the details of what had happened?

That thought came, and I shook my head briskly.

What mattered now was resolving the case quickly.

Curiosity could be resolved after the work was done, by visiting Sir Fawcett again.

“Come to think of it, I’m not the only one who’s changed. You too have strengthened considerably in the meantime. Did you obtain some good elixir somewhere?”
“I gained a small enlightenment.”
“Hm… so you have no intention of telling me. No, judging by your pulse, are you in a hurry about something? It doesn’t seem you came to discuss Kung-Fu. State your business.”

With the Postmaster General’s consideration, I decided to go straight to the point.

“I will cut to the chase. I require your help in solving a case.”
“Have I not once saved my life thanks to your counsel? Say whatever you need.”

I took the kidnapper’s letter from my breast and held it out to Sir Fawcett.

“I wish to find the one who wrote this letter.”
“……”

A brief silence. Sir Fawcett opened his mouth.

“…Are you telling me to audit London’s postal system?”

A voice tinged with anger, and a sharp Qi Frequency.

To this, I replied.

“My God. How could I possibly mean that? If I can speak briefly with the postman who delivered this letter, that will be enough.”
“Ah. That much is easily done.”