AN: My Enlightenment was broken by the cursed spirit called the Exams!
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The early morning light streamed through the bedroom window, filling the small space with a warm glow. The clock on the wall showed exactly eight o'clock. Fors sat at her desk, lightly twirling a quill between her fingers while a blank sheet of paper waited on the wooden surface in front of her.
She stopped playing with the quill and looked over her shoulder.
Sherlock lay completely still under the thick blanket on her bed. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There were fresh white bandages wrapped around his head, and his splinted hand rested carefully on top of the covers.
Fors sighed quietly. 'I want to outline my new detective novel today.
'But having an actual beaten detective unconscious in my room makes it impossible to focus.'
Ever since he collapsed on her doorstep yesterday, he had not opened his eyes even once.
Truthfully, she was deeply worried about what could have caused such severe injuries. He always seemed like a highly resourceful person with a genuinely good heart.
Last night, she ended up sharing a bed with Xio so Sherlock could have a proper place to rest. She woke up early this morning to check his condition and make sure his injuries had not worsened overnight.
As she was deep in thought, a low voice suddenly broke the quiet from the bed behind her.
"May I know where I am?"
Fors jumped, startled by the sudden sound. She immediately set the quill down and turned around.
"You are in my apartment in St. George Borough," she said, quickly regaining her composure. "Xio and I carried you here after you passed out." She paused for a moment before asking, "Do you need something to drink?"
"Yes," he replied weakly.
Fors walked over to the side table and began to pour water into a cup. Meanwhile, Sherlock carefully sat up and looked down at his left hand. He tried to move his fingers, but the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his entire body. Seeing his grimace, Fors explained that his hand was fractured and she had securely splinted it.
She walked back to the bed and handed him the glass.
As he pulled the blanket aside to take the water, he realized he was shirtless. He took the glass and nodded. "Thank you," he said, drinking deeply to soothe his parched throat.
"You have been unconscious since you appeared yesterday afternoon," Fors explained, then asked, "What were you doing?"
"I was commissioned to find someone…" Sherlock's eyes widened as he seemingly recalled what had happened. "Then I got attacked."
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand up. His knees immediately buckled, and he nearly lost his balance. Fors lunged forward and caught him just in time. For a second, they stood incredibly close.
"Thank you," Sherlock said as he took a step back to stabilize himself.
"Are you sure you can move?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.
"It is no problem," he said, shaking his head slightly to clear the dizziness.
He carefully stepped a short distance away and began looking around the room. "Can you please bring me my clothes?"
"Oh. Yes, wait a moment," Fors said as she hurriedly left the room.
She returned a minute later and handed them over. He took the clothes and carefully put on his shirt.
Xio walked into the room right behind her, having heard the muffled voices from the hallway.
"Hello, detective." Xio greeted him as she stepped inside.
"Hello, Miss Xio." Sherlock offered a polite nod.
"What happened?" Xio asked, crossing her arms.
"I was ambushed by a Beyonder out of nowhere," Sherlock replied.
"What was the reason for the ambush?" Fors asked.
Sherlock stroked his chin as if in deep thought. "It could be two things. It might be connected to the case I was investigating, or he simply saw an opportunity to make me a marionette."
He looked at Fors and Xio. "From the powers he used, he seemed to be a Sequence 5 Marionettist."
Fors instantly remembered that the blessing Sherlock received when they attacked Capim's villa was called the exact same thing. That was why he recognized the abilities.
"How did you escape from him?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"He did not have any marionettes with him, which meant he had just advanced to Sequence 5," Sherlock explained. "I managed to use a Travel Charm in time. It is a one-time teleportation charm that lets the user jump a couple of kilometers in a random direction. The charm has a side effect. It makes your mind feel slow, almost as if you are drunk. I was lucky that I teleported nearby and managed to find your home."
"Was it a coincidence that you came to our house?" Fors asked.
Sherlock shook his head. "When I divined Miss Xio's location previously, I learned where she lived."
"What was the case about?" Xio asked.
"It all started when I was commissioned to find a cat."
Xio became tense, and Fors felt her lips twitch. Her writer's brain immediately went to work.
'A simple missing pet can never trigger an ambush by a powerful Beyonder,
'The cat has to be the key to the whole mystery. Maybe the animal holds a valuable jewel in its stomach, or perhaps it secretly carries a sealed artifact hidden inside a tiny collar.'
Sherlock watched their intense expressions for a second. Then, a small mischievous smile broke through his pale face.
"After I finished that commission, I went back to my office and met a teenage boy. He hired me to find another detective named Zreal Viktor Lee, who used to employ him."
Fors blinked as her wild theories vanished. Xio just stared at him in disbelief. They exchanged a look, turned back to the detective, and spoke in the exact same flat tone.
"You can joke too, detective?"
"We thought you were always serious,"
Sherlock let out a soft chuckle. His small smile turned into something deeply grateful.
"You guys helped me out of a very tough spot and saved my life." He looked at them warmly. "I think we are well past the stage of strictly professional meetings."
Fors felt a sudden warmth in her chest. 'He really is a good person. Even after nearly dying, he still cares about thanking us.'
Fors smiled and said smoothly. "And since we are past professional meetings, you can just call me Fors."
Xio uncrossed her arms. Her usually stern face softened into a small grin. "You can call me Xio," she nodded firmly.
Sherlock nodded, looking visibly relieved by their acceptance. He picked up his coat and carefully draped it over his shoulders to avoid aggravating his bruised chest.
"After the teenager hired me," Sherlock continued, "I went to where Zreal used to live. I found a hair sample and performed a divination to track his location. I got visions of his dead body in the Backlund sewers. When I went down there, it turned out to be a trap and I was attacked by the Beyonder."
Fors rubbed her arms as a chill went down her spine. The underground sewers were dark and dangerous even on a normal day.
'Getting trapped down there with a high-level Beyonder sounds like an absolute nightmare,' she thought.
"Do you think the Marionettist was the one who killed Zreal?" Xio asked. Her arbiter instincts immediately took over.
"It is highly likely." Sherlock's expression turned serious once again.
"What do you plan to do now?" Xio asked.
"I have a plan, but I need help from both of you to make it work."
"What exactly do you need us to do?" Fors asked cautiously.
Xio just looked at Sherlock with a determined expression, waiting for his instructions.
"Miss Xio, can you find a way to get three guns and some ammunition?" Sherlock asked. "Meanwhile, I will return to my home and collect all my Beyonder artifacts."
He turned his gaze to Fors. "What do you want to do?"
Fors looked at his bandaged head and splinted hand. "Your injuries have not fully recovered," she stated simply. "I will go with you."
Fors and Sherlock stepped out of the carriage and walked up to his home. The building was a snug, terraced house wedged right between its neighbors. It featured neat brickwork and a single small step that led up to the front door.
They went inside, and Fors took a moment to look around the living room. Fors had come here previously, so the layout was already familiar to her.
Sherlock wasted no time. He went straight to a corner of the room and began rummaging through a pile of items to gather his things.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Sherlock stopped moving. He raised a finger and tapped his glabella twice to activate his Spirit Vision. After a brief moment of inspecting the area, he walked over and pulled the door open.
A young visitor stepped inside. He wore an old coat, a round brown hat, and a tattered satchel slung across his chest. He had a delicate face and a distinctly quiet temperament. His most noticeable feature was a pair of bright red eyes.
It was Ian, the teenage boy who had hired Sherlock just the day before.
"Good morning, Detective Moriarty," Ian said as he stepped through the doorway. He looked around the small living room and quickly noticed Fors sitting on the sofa.
He offered a polite bow. "Good morning, madam."
Fors gave him a brief nod in return, but she did not say anything. She simply sat back and observed the young boy who had hired Sherlock.
Ian shifted his gaze back to Sherlock. His red eyes immediately dropped to the fresh white bandages around the detective's head and the stiff splint on his left hand. The teenager frowned, his delicate face clouding with concern.
Sherlock simply walked over to his desk. He gestured toward the empty chair for Ian to sit.
"Any progress? And um... how did you get injured?" Ian asked, his voice laced with worry.
Sherlock nodded seriously. "Yes, and I will get to that in a minute."
After a short pause, Ian stammered in surprise. "Have you determined Mr. Zreal's condition?"
"Yes." Sherlock paused for a moment, then said seriously, "I found Zreal's corpse."
"Corpse..." Ian's pupils shrank as he repeated the word in a low tone. He was not too surprised, as if he already expected the worst possible outcome.
Fors watched silently without interjecting.
Ian let out a heavy sigh and warily surveyed his surroundings. "Your efficiency is amazing. Can you take me to see Mr. Zreal's body?"
"There is a major problem with that plan," Sherlock said. "I am guessing you have never encountered people with supernatural abilities."
Ian blinked, clearly lost. "What exactly are you talking about, detective? I do not follow."
Sherlock glanced over at Fors. "Can you give him a quick demonstration?"
Fors stood up from the sofa. She walked directly toward the solid wall beside the bookshelf. Right before she hit the plaster, her physical form distorted like a ripple in water. She stepped straight through the solid barrier and vanished from the living room. Two seconds later, she glided right back through the plaster and calmly sat down as if nothing had happened.
Ian looked completely stunned. He stared wide-eyed at the blank wall, struggling to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
"Wh-what is she, detective?" Ian finally stammered.
Sherlock started to explain the situation and the actions he took. When he reached the part about his fight with a powerful Beyonder, he explained what Beyonders were, how powerful they could be, and how he barely managed to escape.
Ian sat completely motionless as he listened to the grim details, the color slowly drained from his delicate face.
When Sherlock finished his report about what happened, Ian took off his brown top hat and bowed.
"Detective Moriarty," Ian said in a low voice. "I am sorry to have involved you in such a dangerous matter."
Fors sat to the side with her left hand supporting her right elbow and her right hand resting against her face. She raised an eyebrow.
Ian stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking softly. "Detective Zreal was a spy for the Feysac Empire. He adopted several vagrant children and taught them how to gather intelligence. I am one of them."
Ian looked down at the coffee table and continued. "We have the advantage of youth and are often ignored by others, which allows us to gather a lot of useful information. Three days ago, I stumbled upon clues regarding Helmosuin's manuscript."
"Helmosuin?" Fors asked, finding the name familiar.
Ian turned his head, looked up at her, and explained. "Turani von Helmosuin. He is the greatest scientist after Emperor Roselle, a mathematician, a mechanist, and the father of the second-generation difference engine."
"When I reported this to Detective Zreal, he was very happy. He told me to follow up on the lead while he immediately reported it to his superior.
"It took me some time to determine where the manuscript was. I was afraid of the danger, so I did not steal it directly. I decided to return to Detective Zreal. After that, it was just as I told you yesterday. Detective Zreal's house was infiltrated, many of the tiny traps were not restored, and he did not respond to my contact requests. Then the Zmanger gang tried to capture me.
"With your help, I hoped to confirm the death of Detective Zreal. I also planned to take a fake tooth from his corpse."
Ian took a deep breath. "Detective Zreal told me that a method to urgently contact his superior was inscribed on the inside of that fake tooth. It was a method even he did not know. He said it was something he would only remove if an accident occurred."
"Contacting Zreal's superior might not have helped you," Sherlock pointed out.
"What do you mean?" Ian asked.
"Why do you think Zreal was assassinated?" Sherlock asked. "Was he someone with a loose mouth who bragged about his achievements?"
Ian fell into a daze when he heard that. It took him quite a while to process the implication. He clenched his fists in anger, trying hard to compose himself.
"I did not think of that. You really are an excellent detective."
He quietly let out a breath of air and changed the topic.
"But now that I told you everything, what should I do?"
"I suggest you go to the church you believe in and explain everything to them," Sherlock advised. "If not, go to MI9. They will focus on the manuscript too much to care about you. But if you go to Zreal's superior, he will likely kill you so he does not leave any loose ends behind."
Ian visibly gulped. "Please allow me to apologize again. I am sorry to have involved you in this."
"And here is the payment I offered you, and some more for your injuries." He pulled a small stack of paper notes from his pocket and set them on the desk.
The original fee was five pounds, but after seeing Sherlock's bandages, Ian had added extra to help cover the medical costs as per the contract they signed previously.
Sherlock nodded and did not say anything else.
Ian looked at the clock on the wall. "It is time for me to leave. I will follow your instructions."
He put on his hat, bade them farewell, and left the apartment.
After the boy left through the door, Fors looked at Sherlock. "You really do not take on small cases, do you?"
Fors let out a soft chuckle at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "First it was human trafficking, and now it is a spy thriller."
Hearing this, Sherlock simply slumped deeper into his chair.
***
Rorsted Archipelago, Bayam, the City of Generosity.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Danitz ran with all his might, but the scene in front of him began to rock.
He felt an abnormal pain from his wound as his vitality rapidly sapped away. His Spirit Body had partially left his physical form, approaching the legendary Underworld. He could only vaguely hear the surrounding sounds, and everything in his line of sight looked fake.
If he did not have the Shadow Cloak, the ambush would have killed him. But even so, he was severely injured and could die on the streets at any moment.
He was forced to run towards Coastal Street. He desperately wanted to warn his captain that their point of contact was compromised by the Admiral of Blood.
'I need to escape from the hands of Steel Maveti and his henchmens,' Danitz thought as he began to stagger. His body gradually grew cold.
Just as he was about to collapse, he saw another man blocking his path.
He was a young gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses, neat black hair, and dark brown eyes.
Danitz came to a halt and fell hard on his back. His hands hung limply over his chest, revealing a hideous, exaggerated wound inflicted on his organs.
'Shit! Is he with the Admiral of Blood crew too?' he thought as he tried to stand up. 'Fuck! I have to get past him somehow.'
He ignored the burning feeling in his body and staggered to his feet.
As he tried to stand, the man kneeled by his side and asked a simple question.
"What is your name?"
'Is he not with Maveti?' Danitz felt baffled for a moment before answering with a stutter. "Bl-Blazing Danitz."
"Are you a pirate?"
Hearing this question made Danitz's mind jump back to the thousands of exam questions he had to answer on the Golden Dream.
'Shit, the blood loss is making me dizzy,' he thought. He replied weakly, "Y-yes."
Through his blurry eyes, he saw the man take out a notebook and start flipping through it as if looking for something.
'Fuck! Am I going to die?' Danitz gritted his teeth. He was about to tell the man to just kill him hurriedly instead of asking pointless questions.
The man closed the book with a sharp thud.
"You are not on the list."
Saying that, the guy with the gold-rimmed glasses reached out, pressed his hand to the bleeding wound, and swiped it.
Danitz felt his sorrow come to a sudden halt. The numb pain in his chest and abdomen suddenly disappeared.
Danitz looked at the man blankly. The man looked back at him quietly. Neither of them spoke for two seconds.
Finally, Danitz looked down in astonishment and discovered that his lethal wound was completely healed.
'I am fine now?' Danitz blinked. He was still immersed in the sadness and frustration of his brush with death.
His shock was broken by the arrival of three people. They walked into the alleyway menacingly.
Steel Maveti led the group. His lips were thick and his skin was swarthy. His hair curled up like the steel balls often seen in factories. However, his entire being emanated a cold and sinister feeling, as if he was not a living creature at all.
Calm Squall stood next to him. His face was thin and sharp, carrying a look of deep aggression. A lock of black hair hung down, half obscuring the dark green eye on his left side, which softened his coldness slightly.
Blood Brambles Hendry stood behind them. He wore a brown local tunic and twirled a yellowish-brown straw hat with his fingers.
'Shit, shit! My distraction did not work,' Danitz thought in panic. After discovering the Golden Dream contact was compromised, Danitz set the place on fire to catch the attention of the official Beyonders and misdirect Maveti's attention.
"T-that is Steel Maveti!" Danitz yelled.
"From the Admiral of Blood's crew?" the man in glasses asked.
"Yes!"
Behind Maveti, Hendry crossed his arms as he looked at Calm Squall, and nodded toward the stranger.
"Is he a member of the Golden Dream pirates as well?" Hendry asked.
"I do not think so," Squall replied.
"Who are you, bitch?" Maveti growled. Mania flashed in his eyes.
The man in glasses stood up and looked at the pirates in front of him. He lifted his hat slightly.
"Gehrman Sparrow. Pirate Bounty Hunter." When Danitz heard that, a chill ran down his spine.
'This is my fucking luck to come face to face with a bounty hunter.
'Wait, was he searching for my name in his notebook to see if I am a target?'
Danitz's thoughts were interrupted by Maveti's loud laughter. The pirate gang leader threw his head back and guffawed, the sound echoing loudly in the narrow alley.
"A bounty hunter?" Maveti sneered, wiping a mock tear from his eye. "I have never even heard of you, you arrogant prick."
Squall chuckled darkly next to him. "He is definitely biting off more than he can chew. Look at him. He looks like a lost accountant."
Hendry stopped twirling his hat and glared at Gehrman. "Hand Blazing Danitz over to us right now, four-eyes. Do it, or we will chop you up and feed you to the stray dogs along with him."
Hearing this, Danitz figured Gehrman would just hand him over to save his own skin. Since his body was fully healed, Danitz decided he was ready to fight. He lifted his arm, gritted his teeth, and summoned a condensed fireball into his hand.
But a moment later, he heard a sharp thump. Gehrman tapped his cane against the cobblestone ground.
Everything instantly turned gray. It looked like all the colors in the world was violently sucked away.
Danitz could not move his eyes. His body was completely paralyzed. Only his thoughts worked normally.
'What is happening!?'
In front of him, Maveti and his crew were stuck in the exact same situation. They were locked in their places, completely frozen like statues.
Beside him, Gehrman Sparrow walked leisurely toward the pirates. He drew a hidden sword from his cane. Without any hesitation, he swung the blade horizontally. The gray, colorless air distorted around the steel as if he was tearing the space apart.
Danitz stood perfectly still, scared and dumbfounded.
A second later, the gray color vanished. The world returned to normal.
Danitz stared at Maveti and his henchmen. They were still standing in the exact same positions. Then, a small breeze blew in from the sea.
One by one, the heads of the three pirates slid off their necks and fell to the ground.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Danitz snapped out of his shock when a small brown bag hit him square in the face.
He fumbled to catch the bag, then looked up at the person who threw it.
Gehrman stared at him with absolute indifference. "Put all the heads inside this bag," Gehrman instructed.
Danitz looked at Gehrman like the man was insane. 'How am I supposed to fit three massive heads inside such a tiny bag?'
He opened his mouth to ask, but he suddenly remembered the terrifying display of power he just witnessed. He looked into Gehrman's cold blue eyes and saw absolutely zero emotion.
Danitz's breath caught in his throat. He let out a quiet whimper, kneeled down, and picked up Maveti's severed head. He nervously pushed it into the bag.
The head slid right in, but the bag did not bulge or grow in size at all.
'It is a Sealed Artifact!' Danitz realized in amazement as he quickly shoved the other two heads inside.
Gehrman gestured for him to follow. Danitz knew he had absolutely no choice but to obey.
As they walked away, Danitz suddenly heard loud chewing sounds echoing from the alley behind them. Out of pure curiosity, he glanced over his shoulder.
Two massive, wolf-like creatures were devouring the headless bodies with vicious ferocity. One of the beasts raised its head and locked eyes with Danitz. Flaming fire burned inside its eye sockets. It licked the fresh blood from its jaws with a long tongue while maintaining unbroken eye contact.
Danitz whimpered quietly again, instantly regretting his decision to look back. He hurried his pace to catch up with Gehrman.
A few minutes later, he found himself standing inside the Navy office as a pirate and miraculously alive.
AN: Next chapter, we will see how Sherlock is going to handle the Ambassador Bakarland situation, and what Gehrman is doing in the City of Generosity.
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