Chapter 215 I'm not afraid of trouble, let me do it
Hearing Sherlock's words, Aiwass raised his eyebrows and smiled meaningfully: "What do you think?"
“…I originally had some ideas in mind.”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze becoming sharper. "But now I'm starting to suspect it's you. Even if it's not you, at least you know the inside story."
"Who were you thinking of?"
Aiwass asked with interest.
Sherlock bit his unlit cigar and replied, "I was originally thinking...whether the professor is still alive?
"Because the new minister's style of work seems somewhat similar to his. Those who have access to the Queen and are trusted by Her Majesty without any achievements are few and far between. Excluding those who already hold ministerial positions, there aren't many left."
There is no doubt that the "professor" Sherlock is referring to is James Moriarty, Aiwass's adoptive father.
When he was investigating earlier, he was almost killed by Edward. In the end, Sherlock backed down a bit, and Edward didn't kill him to silence him because of their friendship.
Although Sherlock has claimed that he will no longer investigate, he has not forgotten the content of his previous investigation.
"Since you faked your death, and I faked my death... is it possible that the professor also faked his death?"
Sherlock made a very reasonable guess.
Others might not think of this aspect for a while, but this was the only thing that was within Sherlock's cognition. Since Sherlock was aware of this, he could certainly guess this possibility.
"From this perspective, perhaps it's possible that the minister is actually Edward. The professor faked his own death in public, and secretly served as Edward's advisor..."
"Couldn't it be Edward?"
Aiwass asked back with some amusement: "Why does he have to be someone's agent?"
"……Um."
Sherlock pondered for a moment and came up with a more polite response: "I think given his personality, it would be difficult for him to make such a decision."
The implication is that Edward isn't that smart.
"Do you think I look like him?" Aiwass asked with a smile.
"It's certainly possible. Putting aside the potential controversy and backlash surrounding the curse, focusing on Master Lars's brutal murder of the female student and giving him a hard time... seems a bit like your style."
Sherlock fell into deep thought: "But since you asked this, then this matter may not be that simple..."
"Style? What style do I have?"
Aiwass was a little curious about Sherlock's evaluation, as he himself didn't know what his style was.
Sherlock commented, "A bit like an iris aristocrat, or a newspaper editor, or a magician performing in a tavern."
"He's just a liar who tells lies all the time. That's what you mean, right?"
"More than that. Besides being adept at lying and able to convince others, he's also incredibly cunning. He speaks the truth, yet manages to mislead people. He enjoys playing with words and language, and in turn, toying with the hearts of others..."
"I see. You want to call me a vixen again, right?"
"Yes, just like what the Taichu people called 'fox spirit'."
Sherlock said sarcastically without changing his expression, "This is how a fox seduces its master."
"So what are you, a seagull? Or a pelican?"
Aiwass pointed at the cigar in Sherlock's mouth: "He's holding a cigarette but not smoking it."
"I don't smoke because you're here, Mr. Fox."
Sherlock glared at Aiwass and said in a rather unfriendly tone, "Mrs. Mina has told me many times that you are not in good health and I shouldn't smoke in front of you. To be honest, I don't think you are in any way unwell."
"—You look much better, Sherlock."
At this moment, a clear and calm voice came from the door: "Have you become healthier in your daily routine and diet?"
It was the voice of Mr. Mycroft Hermes.
Sherlock's expression changed slightly. He pulled his left foot back from the table and straightened up his slouched body. He removed the cigar from his mouth—the cigar box was next to Aiwass, and he didn't have time to put it back in the cigar box, so he tried to hide it under the table.
But that was too unhygienic. Aiwass reached out and took the cigar, then put it back on the shelf in front of him.
The next moment, Madam Mina appeared from the doorway with Mycroft.
Mycroft smiled and nodded slightly to Aiwass.
The tall, big man, who looked like a fat seal, took off his black bowler hat, revealing his black hair and bright amber eyes that were exactly the same as Sherlock's.
And Aiwass also stood up, smiled at him, touched his chest and nodded in return.
"Your brother is here to see you, Sherlock."
Madam Mina looked troubled. "I wanted to try to get you out of this, but he was so convinced you were here...that I brought him up here."
Mina was wearing her fortune teller's black dress as usual, and was apparently watching over the shop downstairs when she was caught by Mycroft.
"Thank you for bringing me up, Madam Mina. Thank you very much—and thank you also for taking good care of Sherlock. The Hermes family will cover all his living expenses during this period and beyond."
Mycroft's voice was neither rich nor commanding.
He is not as lazy, elegant but mean as Sherlock, but he is calm and comfortable, easily forgotten, yet always gives people a sense of security.
It's like that kind of uncle or uncle who has a good personality and always brings back some gifts when he's on a business trip - he's a close elder, but the relationship is not so direct, so he won't scold you every day. Instead, you become friendly with him while keeping a distance.
"It's okay, Sherlock is very sensible. He's not a child anymore, so how can you call him taking care of..."
Mina glanced at Aiwass, and only left after seeing Aiwass nod. "I have to go downstairs to look after the shop. I'm sorry I can't make tea for you..."
"It's okay, Madam Mina. We'll take care of ourselves."
Aiwass smiled and waved his hand, watching the landlady leave.
After Madam Mina left, Mycroft sat on the other sofa between Aiwass and Sherlock. As he sat down, the sofa caved inwards, making a creaking sound like snow under the weight.
The first thing Mycroft did when he sat down was to take a look at the brand of cigars on the table.
He looked at Sherlock and asked casually, "No money again?"
“Tsk…”
Sherlock didn't ask him a stupid question like "How did you know?", but just scratched his head in annoyance: "After all, I haven't been to work for a long time."
What he called "work" was helping the Supervisory Bureau solve cases - the Supervisory Bureau would give him some bonuses as a reward for his consulting detective work.
"That has nothing to do with it. Your income is not low. The main thing is that you are too wasteful and never save money."
Mycroft looked at Sherlock, his eyes as calm as a lake: "You still have a few days to advance. Can you still afford the materials for the advancement?"
"The Full Moon Ceremony doesn't require any expensive materials."
Being stared at by his brother made Sherlock a little irritated. "Why can't I afford it? Besides, I wrote a book. Once it's published, I'll be rich."
“And then it’s all gone quickly, right?”
Mycroft looked at Sherlock and said gently and calmly, "You know, I'm talking about the dream tincture."
"This isn't my first time advancing, so it's not a big problem."
Sherlock was a bit stubborn. "Only if I suffer great pain in my dreams or am disturbed in reality can my dream of advancement be interrupted. I've already advanced normally once, and this time with Her Royal Highness the Princess and Aiwass..."
"That's because Her Royal Highness the Princess is involved this time. What if something goes wrong on your end?"
Mycroft didn't get angry, and continued to speak slowly: "You don't think that Her Highness Isabel is here to help you advance, do you?"
After he said that, he took out two small boxes from his arms.
They were two thumb-sized metal round boxes, resembling cooling oils, with a crescent moon pattern with a human face etched on them.
It was a drunken dream.
"They're all new this year. Even if you don't use them, they'll last for years. One for each of you."
Mycroft smiled at Aiwass. "This isn't some 'reward for looking after Sherlock,' nor is it a formal gift—just think of it as a present you bring when visiting a friend."
Your casual gift is worth several hundred White Crown coins. A well-trained pure-blooded hound is about the same price.
Aiwass thought. However, he did not refuse, but accepted it directly.
For him now, this really wasn't a lot of money. Although he hadn't taken over the Moriarty family's business yet, it was quite easy for him to ask Edward for money to buy a return gift of the same level.
"Gift?"
Sherlock heard this word keenly: "No matter, is it really you?"
Mycroft didn't pat Sherlock on the head, nor did he make any physical contact. He simply said calmly, "Now that you know, you should show some respect to Minister Moriarty, Sherlock. Minister Moriarty is His Majesty's right-hand man, and should be His Majesty's right-hand man in the future."
"……yes."
Sherlock reluctantly stood up and bowed to Aiwass: "I'm sorry, Your Excellency."
Out of Mycroft's sight, he moved his lips slightly and mouthed the word "fox" to Aiwass.
Aiwass didn't mind at all. Instead, he smiled and nodded repeatedly, feeling refreshed.
As the Hermes family of the Iron-Blooded Queen's faction... Sherlock now has to bow down in front of him.
"Well, Sherlock."
Aiwass smiled and said, "Want to join my no-nonsense department? I think I still have a secretary position available."
That's what I thought.
Sherlock thought.
He didn't completely dislike Avalon's civil service system. He just hated the ministers... He had once wanted to be Mycroft's secretary, but Mycroft had given him a few difficult questions and pushed him back.
——But how can I make myself look like I don’t think so?
"That being said, it still requires Her Majesty the Queen's approval."
Mycroft said from the side, "After all, Sherlock isn't a civil servant. Even if he doesn't have any responsibility for the ministry, he can't just be parachuted in... He needs a title. What do you think of a royal agent? Minister Moriarty? That way he can explain his fake death and it won't look so foolish. Since it's His Majesty's mission, I'm sure our parents won't be too harsh on him."
"I think so."
Aiwass replied: "Please also give my regards to Sir Arthur."
The two of them worked together to finalize Sherlock.
Sherlock didn't hate it, but was relieved.
Then Mycroft smiled and got down to business—it was obvious he hadn't come all this time to see his brother.
"Minister Moriarty, do you know the barrel club I run?"
"Sherlock mentioned it to me. What's the matter? And you can just call me Aiwass."
“The problem is neither big nor small.”
Mycroft said slowly, "Mr. Lars Graham has deposited some documents and inheritance in my club. I don't want to attract the Inspectorate because the people in the Barrel Club hate trouble and noise. But it wouldn't be a good idea for me to handle these things privately..."
"So, could you please come over and help bear witness? If you think there's anything dangerous that needs your personal care, you can also point it out to us in time to avoid unnecessary trouble caused by improper sealing and containment."
The implication is that we dare not touch the things left by the bone carvings.
If you want it, please take it away. We don't want to cause trouble.
"Of course... no problem."
Aiwass said with a smile: "I'm not afraid of trouble."
Update completed!
It’s a little late, but today’s update is nearly 8,000 words!
(End of this chapter)
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