Martial arts consist of 99 percent practice and 1 percent enlightenment.

–Thomas Edison

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In this world, Baritsu was an extraordinary martial art created by an unparalleled eccentric who traveled between Europe and Asia, selectively integrating the finest elements from countless martial arts.

The notion of a European martial art may strike those dwelling in the Qing Empire as peculiar, yet martial prowess has never been the sole privilege of the East.

My master, who possessed qualities worthy of being called a grandmaster, encountered a question while learning Eastern martial arts in his youth.

Indeed, was it only Asians who could wield internal energy?

Through research sparked by a mere question, my mentor discovered that figures of formidable martial prowess in Europe’s past had employed internal energy.

Saint George, who killed a dragon with his sword and spear.

Richard I, a demon who combined unrivaled martial might with exceptional strategic brilliance.

As well as Joan of Arc, hailed as the saint of France.

Beyond them, countless heroes chronicled in history, though adhering to systems distinct from those of the East, exhibited superhuman feats of martial prowess through the power of martial disciplines.

Fortunately, a few founders of various sects had secretly documented their insights, and my mentor succeeded in acquiring portions of their secret manuals.

Among them, the core internal energy technique adopted by my master in completing Baritsu was the Lionheart Method left by Richard I.

Richard I, the Lionhearted King, was the strongest warrior who revered martial arts and never ceased training.

The capabilities of the technique he left behind were absolute, but the side effects were unparalleled in severity.

People feared Richard I for his violence and cruelty that went beyond the bounds of common sense.

The reason for his violent disposition lay in the Lionheart Method being a demonic art that circulated energy in a way opposite to conventional martial arts techniques.

Even though the inner strength accumulated via the Lionheart Method was purer than orthodox methods, he couldn’t completely control the inner demons that surfaced during long practice.

However, through relentless effort, my master refined the mnemonic verses and ultimately succeeded in subduing both the impure energy and inner demons.

As a result, Richard I’s secret technique was reborn as the ultimate demonic art, capable of achieving rapid accomplishments with minimal side effects and offering a pathway to a higher realm.

A supreme internal energy method, perfectly tailored for an English gentleman of intellect and decorum, far removed from the barbaric era.

Thus, the Renewal Lionheart Method was perfected.

That’s what was believed―

-Gulp!

Barely five minutes into settling in the Lotus Position, I found myself spitting out a glob of dark, crimson blood.

The Renewal Lionheart Method, though undoubtedly an unprecedented internal energy method designed for rapid ascent in martial arts, made the initial experience of Breath Control far from easy.

To this world’s younger, more agile Sherlock Holmes, Breath Control might have come as naturally as breathing.

However, the soul residing within this body was mine, a me from another world.

Evidently, the disconnect between the two had disrupted the flow of internal energy.

‘If unresolved, it’s very obvious that I’ll descend into a Bad Trip1…’

The small and large circulations of internal energy were recommended to be performed naturally, beneath the unconscious mind.

Attempting to forcibly manipulate power not yet fully mine with strong consciousness triggered a rejection response.

There is no other way now. I must decisively resolve what I can in my current state and move on.

Even if it’s just a part, I need to make the achievements I’ve accumulated in this world my own, to form the foundation.

What I need now is a handful of audacity.

-Fwoosh.

I began to circulate the energy in my dantian once more.

And then, without fear, I cast my mind into the abyss of the unconscious mind, into its deepest part.

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Hearing, sight, and even scent vanished entirely, severing me completely from the external world.

Perfect darkness. Within that void, I found myself confronting the depths of my own unconscious mind.

-Gooo.

In the vast sea of pitch-black sand, the towering structure rising was a monumental library, a repository of knowledge and experience.

The Mind Palace, as it is called, is the heart of an imagined space created by the art of memory.

No matter how many times I endeavored to explain it, Watson couldn’t grasp the concept, but I had trained enough to wander freely inside at will.

Every piece of knowledge employed in unraveling the truth of a case was stored here, shaped into books I could retrieve and peruse whenever required.

‘Quite a collection…’

It seemed this world’s counterpart of myself had likewise amassed an impressive array of knowledge.

Just as I had stocked my shelves with insights into chemistry and criminal history, so too had they housed an abundance of Kung-Fu Principles and Kung-Fu Theory.

The problem was that once I went inside, I found the place in a state of disarray, as though an earthquake had torn through its core.

“Watson would be shocked if he saw this.”

Within the Mind Palace, fragmented pieces of information, bound in the form of books, floated chaotically through the air or lay haphazardly strewn across the floor.

Ordinarily, it would be a meticulously ordered archive of knowledge.

Surely, it’s the result of confusion arising from the mixing of the common sense from my original world and the knowledge of this world.

A Sherlock Holmes in a world where martial arts exist, overlaid with the soul of a Sherlock Holmes who lived in a world devoid of it. That is precisely me.

Even if my mind and body have long practiced martial arts, to wield that power by my will, I must properly follow the steps.

In short, it means I need to internalize the power accumulated by this world’s Holmes as my own.

‘It’s not going to be easy.’

In the end, there’s only one way to solve the problem.

I began to grab the tens of thousands of books flying chaotically through the air and place them one by one on the bookshelf.

The only way to make the martial arts mastered by this world’s Holmes my own.

It is the thing I find most bothersome in the world.

“How I find myself yearning for cocaine.”

It was organizing.

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How much time had passed, I wonder?

I continued to move books in the world of imagery created by my unconscious mind.

It was a painstaking task of selecting the knowledge and experiences related to martial arts, including Baritsu, that I had learned in this world.

By transferring the unfamiliar martial arts information to the shelf containing only the information I already believe and trust, I make it completely my own.

Of course, this was by no means an easy task.

Every time I picked up a book, the pain and stress I felt while learning martial arts in this world tore through my mind.

And that’s not all.

The books that defied gravity and flew around, became increasingly heavier in my hands as I touched them.

It was as though I were attempting to unfurl a 1322.77-pound weight.

Even the weight of the books varied greatly depending on their contents.

Books containing basic knowledge, like Breathing Exercise, were light, but those with information on advanced martial arts were so heavy that even using all my strength, they wouldn’t budge.

At one point, I even wondered if this was a test to see if I was qualified to use those martial arts.

However, I refused to give in and continued moving the books.

Despite having suffered through withdrawal symptoms from morphine and cocaine several times in my past life, my will remained unbroken.

“Did the Heavenly Demon Descending Steps…go here.”

Having moved books that I could barely handle even after coughing up blood several times, I picked up the last one and placed it on the shelf.

-Whoosh!

Was this the limit for now? The Mind Palace shattered, dissolving into particles of light, and my consciousness began to rise slowly to the surface.

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“…Unbelievable.”

The first emotions I felt after finishing Breath Control were shock and despair.

“To think I organized books with my own hands.”

I was so engrossed that I ended up committing an act I never would have done under normal circumstances.

I can’t remember the last time I organized something myself.

It’s not as if I was deprived of proper upbringing.

I could always recall exactly where the things I needed were, so I never found myself inconvenienced by the lack of organization.

However, in my pursuit of new power, I surpassed my own limits.

As a result, my mind broke through the dissociation and wall of conventional wisdom that had confined my unconscious mind, and succeeded in crossing over into London Murim.

“Is this enlightenment?”

As the gap between body and mind narrowed, a grand and powerful energy surged from the lower dantian like a flame.

A strong and pure energy incomparable to when I first started practicing Breath Control.

I have yet to fully make all the techniques and internal energy I accumulated in this world’s training entirely my own.

However, by organizing the Mind Palace and retracing the enlightenment of my other self, I could freely draw upon more than 50% of the power accumulated in the dantian.

The fruits of Breath Control did not end there.

Perhaps it was because this body in this world had no ties to addictive substances.

The mind, once steeped in morphine and cocaine, was clearer than ever, and the lethargy and helplessness that dominated the body were completely gone.

Right now, what dominates my mind is nothing but the joy and excitement brought by the new field of knowledge called martial arts.

I want to try using this power immediately.

My body is itching to the point where I can hardly stand it.

“Now where can I…”

While looking around, my favorite cane caught my eye.

At first glance, it may seem to be an ordinary cane, but it’s a unique weapon passed down from my master.

The sword stick, the Heavenly Demon Cane, forged from Cold Iron and various materials, is designed to address the chronic durability issues of weapons containing mechanical components.

I picked up the cane and infused it with energy without drawing the hidden sword or triggering any mechanisms.

-Giiing!

The cane emitted a resonant sound in response to my internal energy.

Its surface began to be enveloped by an ashen aura resembling the sky of London.

“Hooh.”

The translucent aura enveloping the cane quickly extended to a length similar to that of a longsword.

It was the blade of internal energy that only a warrior who had attained a certain realm could produce. It was Sword Aura.

Or, since I was using it as a cane, perhaps it would be more fitting to call it Cane Aura.

“Truly fascinating.”

Overcome with excitement, I stood up and swung the cane twice.

-Whoosh!

Though it was an action done without any thought.

-Boom!

An X-shaped hole appeared in the second-floor wall of the boarding house.

“…Ah.”

It was an accident caused by injecting excessive power, causing the Cane Aura to stretch unnecessarily because I still lacked finesse in managing it with precision.

I was pondering a way to resolve the issue when, within three seconds, the sound of multiple footsteps reached my ear…

-Bang!

Without a knock, the door was abruptly swung open by the landlady, Mrs. Hudson.

“Mr. Holmes!!! What have you done again―”

Mrs. Hudson could not finish her sentence.

Why, I wondered, did her gaze slowly drift from the hole in the wall toward my waist?

And behind her stood someone I’d never seen before, with red hair streaked with silver―

“…Hmm?”

The visitor who arrived with Mrs. Hudson had a mustache, but it was fake.

Their mannerism, like the way they covered their mouth reflexively, were oddly feminine.

Upon closer inspection, I could faintly discern the silhouette of bandages beneath the gentleman’s shirt.

Based on these observations, my deduction about the visitor’s identity is as follows.

A woman pretending to be a man through face-changing technique and disguise.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I ignored the petrified Mrs. Hudson and extended my hand for a handshake to the woman who appeared to be a client.

“Nice to meet you. I am Sherlock Holmes.”

“Jo… John Watson.”

Did I just hear that wrong?

“Excuse me, but could you repeat your name…?”

“It’s John Watson. And please, I beg you, cover your lower half.”

The woman who introduced herself as John Watson replied while turning her head in an odd direction instead of shaking the hand I extended.

“Hmm…”

It wasn’t until I cast my gaze downward that I realized what I had been overlooking.

First.

It seemed I had become so immersed in my own practice of Breath Control over the past six days that I failed to notice something rather vital.

The evidence, as it were, was the lady who claimed to be John Watson standing right in front of me.

And second.

Given the fragments of fabric scattered across the floor in large quantities, it could be deduced that during the process of my Breath Control and enlightenment, the energy circulating through my body must have erupted with such force that it ripped my clothes to shreds.

In other words, I am currently not wearing a single scrap of cloth.

“……”

This is bad.

I do not know why Watson has turned into a woman, but I must quickly change the subject to escape this awkward atmosphere.

Fortunately, I know how to divert Watson’s attention elsewhere.

I’ve done it once before. Doing it twice shouldn’t be difficult.

Prepared, I put on the most gentlemanly smile and spoke.

“You must have been to Afghanistan.”

“……”

“……”

No response came back. Only the cold air rushed through the gaping hole in the wall.

“If you’re curious how I knew, let me explain—”

“No, it’s fine.”

“…It’s a simple deduction. You—”

“I said it’s fine.”

“……”

I can confidently say that the reunion with Watson was nothing short of disastrous.

1. TL/N: Bad Trip refers to Qi Deviation ️