If every time I thought of you a lily bloomed, I could wield a sword forever in my garden.

–Alfred Tennyson

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After sending Inspector Gregson ahead, I slowly made my way to the destination by carriage.

The crime scene was at 3 Lauriston Gardens, on the outskirts of Brixton Road.

Even though we were heading to a murder scene, Watson followed me out of curiosity.

At first, I hesitated to show a corpse to a lady, but remembering Watson’s background as a military doctor in this world too, I couldn’t refuse her company.

“It’s intriguing that the police would directly seek your help, Mr. Holmes. I’m curious about your profession.”

Inside the regularly rattling carriage, Watson cautiously began to ask questions.

“My profession, you ask? Take a guess.”

“Are you a private detective?”

“Detective, not a bad guess.”

Since the advent of factories and railways, London has grown into a metropolis with millions of people congregating.

However, the city’s expansion did not only bring positive outcomes.

There is no community composed solely of good people who follow rules and conscience.

The explosive increase in London’s population density created a situation where the police had to deal with more criminals than they could handle.

Though the Metropolitan Police Service, Scotland Yard, was established to oversee all of London, it was insufficient.

As a result, subpar private detective offices sprouted up like mushrooms across London, and citizens came to rely on them.

However―

“I’m not particularly fond of being called a detective. My profession is that of London’s sole investigative consultant. A role that involves offering guidance to resolve cases that have reached an impasse.”

I would prefer not to be compared to incompetent third-rate individuals lacking the intellect a professional should possess.

“That’s fascinating. An investigative consultant, I’m curious about what exactly it is that you do.”

Watson asked with a face showing pure curiosity, without a hint of sarcasm.

When I first met the Watson I knew, he looked at me with those pure eyes too.

Later on, he became quite comfortable with me in many ways.

“Very well. Since we’re going to live in the same house, I suppose I should explain this too.”

This Watson seems far less suspicious of people. Not trying to be sarcastic either.

Well, well. It seems that I’ve already started to like this world’s Watson. Who knew the human heart could be so fickle.

“As I mentioned earlier, observation and thought are my second nature. I often gather a lot of information from the trivial things that people overlook. For instance, identifying the culprit from the clues that the dimwits at Scotland Yard miss.”

“Impressive. Though it’s hard to believe.”

“You must be aware that I was holed up in my room, absorbed in meditation for six days. This means Mr. Stanford had no chance to inform me about where or what Mr. Watson was up to.”

“Now that you mention it, that makes sense…”

Watson, still unable to grasp the situation, continued with her questions.

“I’ve been curious all along, how did you deduce my past? I can’t quite fathom it.”

“It’s simple.”

I took a puff of smoke and then removed the pipe from my mouth.

“With the smell of medicinal herbs on your hands and the marks of suturing thread, you must have learned medicine. Your demeanor is disciplined, and there are crumbs of old oatmeal balls with mint on your scarf, so I thought you were a soldier. In other words, you must have been a military doctor.”

“…Good heavens.”

“Oatmeal balls with mint, which give a refreshing taste, are only supplied as military rations to units deployed in hot regions.

Seeing you use a cane with an unnatural gait, you must have been injured in battle, and the only place where military doctors could get hurt in such severe battles while receiving mint oatmeal balls is Afghanistan.”

Watson couldn’t close her mouth for a while.

It’s not as if she looked impressed or anything like that.

She was startled as if she had seen a ghost.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen someone figure out what kind of person another is just by observing them briefly.”

She hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“As you mentioned, I studied Eastern medicine at the University of London before participating in the war as a military doctor. The injury to my leg was caused by a Jezail Sword Technique.”

It was an expected answer.

The Jezail Sword Technique is a martial art developed by a martial artist from the Dian Cang Sect who crossed over to Afghanistan, modifying the Sun Shooting Sword Technique to specialize in sniping distant enemies by sending out sword energy.

The name Jezail, meaning musket in the local language, was given because each time the sword energy concentrated at the sword’s tip was released, it echoed with a gunshot-like sound.

A soldier who survived the strike of a sniper swordsman from Afghanistan would usually be plagued by trauma. Yet, seeing no sign of such affliction, it seems that the Watson of this world possesses a resilience far greater than her delicate exterior suggests.

“It is a great relief that a remarkable talent like Dr. Watson has returned safely to her homeland.”

“You flatter me.”

Just like the Watson I knew, this woman would surely be competent as a doctor as well. Her specialty might differ slightly from the Watson of the other world, though.

I could somewhat guess why she went to the lengths of disguising her gender to enlist in the military.

Surely, she became a soldier to improve a special condition that could be considered a chronic illness.

However, it is still too early to comment on her constitution.

I concluded it would be wiser to defer such discussions until a deeper trust has been established.

“Come to think of it, Dr. Watson, I’ve actually been interested in the army’s formal martial arts for a long time. Could I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course. Where should we start?”

We continued to share various stories, and by the time we reached our destination, we had become so familiar with each other that we stopped using formal language and called each other by name.

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Upon arriving at Lauriston Gardens, we immediately moved to the scene.

Since this was a case I had already solved once before my return, the memories of that time remained vividly in my mind.

Of course, this London might differ from where I used to live, so there could be minor differences in the flow of the case.

That was why I did not neglect my observations on the way to the murder scene.

As we passed in front of a quiet residential area, four houses lined up side by side came into view.

The house guarded by the police was one of the vacant ones put up for rent.

‘So far, nothing has changed from the scene I saw on that side.’

I was examining the remaining footprints nearby when Gregson, who had arrived earlier, ran over to me and greeted me politely.

“Thank you for making time, Mr. Holmes.”

“The scene is well-preserved. It seems Lestrade hasn’t meddled unnecessarily.”

“I took special care when I arrived earlier. Please come inside. But before that, this gentleman is…”

“…My assistant, Watson. An excellent doctor. He’ll help in examining the body to find clues, so let him in.”

“Holmes…”

Though Watson had inadvertently become my assistant, she didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, she was looking at me with eyes full of curiosity.

“Come along inside. If even Scotland Yard’s better minds, Gregson and Lestrade, are floundering, then it’s safe to assume this culprit has wits sharp enough to at least entertain me.”

We entered the empty house and began to inspect the interior.

The air inside the house was stale, as if it hadn’t been touched by human presence for months, except for the day of the murder.

This too was exactly as I remembered.

What had changed was the murder scene we reached after passing through the hallway.

“You’ve arrived.”

Lestrade, who had been waiting in the room connected to the dining room, spoke to me.

His face was pale with dread, but my attention was drawn to the corpse sprawled on the floor.

The victim’s face was certainly just as I remembered, but the state of the scene was completely different from my recollection.

“Hmm…”

The scent of lilies lingered near the body, long after the murder had occurred.

In the victim’s right hand was a broken sword stick.

Judging by the fine craftsmanship of the sword and the bulging solar plexus, it seemed the victim was once a promising disciple of a mid-sized martial sect.

“They say the sword of the Zion Clan has a lily scent…”

The martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect were refined through the studies of Christians in Europe and America, and those who inherited its progress were now known as the Zion Clan.

Their proud technique is the Twenty-Four Lilies Sword Technique.

Like the original Plum Blossom Sword Technique, it is said that the scent of flowers in the mind manifests through the sword, and at the scene, the scent was strong enough to induce sneezing.

Swordsmen from the Zion Clan carry an adrenaline injection at all times to prevent their sparring partners, who might suffer from allergic reactions, from dying of anaphylactic shock.

“I can barely breathe…”

I didn’t want to disturb the scene, so I had put away my pipe, but my nose was screaming so much that I had to light it and take a few puffs.

I unbuttoned the shirt to examine the condition of the corpse.

There are no obvious external injuries. There are no bruises, so he wasn’t hit by a weapon or a blunt object. There are no signs of strangulation either.

In that case, the cause of death must be similar to the case I solved in the world I originally lived in.

“I’d like to hear your opinion, Watson.”

“Understood, Holmes.”

No sooner had I finished speaking than Watson took out a thin silver needle and began sticking it into various parts of the victim’s corpse.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Just stay back and watch.”

The startled Gregson and Lestrade tried to stop her, but I held them back.

“Estimated time of death is early this morning. Seeing the long needle in the heart completely discolored, it’s presumed to be poison.”

As expected, Watson accurately determined the cause of death.

Indeed, it was an expert opinion worthy of someone who majored in medicine at the University of London.

In this world’s battlefield, the role of a military doctor was varied beyond just treatment.

The military doctor also provided information to identify the martial arts of the enemy who struck down the fallen ally to prevent further damage.

Watson’s ability to determine the estimated time of death must be due to such a background.

“What kind of poison does it seem to be?”

“That much I can’t tell. It’s a poison I’ve never seen before.”

I wanted to test what the Watson of this world could do, and the result was more excellent than I imagined.

As she said, the cause of death was poisoning.

However, the scent of the poison was different from the cases I solved before the regression, so I couldn’t identify what it was. Unless I slowly examined it in the morgue.

“Move the body, Lestrade.”

“I was planning to do that even if you didn’t say so.”

I took the opportunity to grab the small ring lying underneath the body as the young officers lifted it onto the stretcher.

Even in a world where martial arts exist, the case’s details are likely exactly as I remember.

This ring is deeply connected to the murderer’s motive.

Before the regression, it was taken from me while I was tracking the criminal, but this time I might be able to use it effectively.

“Are there other belongings?”

Lestrade silently pointed to a corner of the scene.

There were small items organized, including a wallet and a business card holder.

Upon checking the business card, it had the name Enoch J. Drebber, a resident of Cleveland.

From what I remember, the victim I confirmed before regression was a wealthy American citizen. A believer of the Mormon cult rampant in the Northwest.

Mormons are known for their lack of mercy in their actions and considerable individual achievements.

Above all, although there’s a joke about it being a mass destruction martial art limited to those with pollen allergies, the Lily Sword Technique is called the peak of illusionary swordsmanship.

No matter that they were not true disciples of the Zion Clan and were branded as heretics, poisoning a Mormon Lily Swordmaster implies significant cunning or inner strength of the perpetrator.

Whether the bumbling Scotland Yard officers could capture him was honestly a concern.

“Hmm…”

As far as I know, the corpse lying here is the villain who kidnapped the perpetrator’s fiancée and forced her into marriage. In the process, he also killed the woman’s father.

The perpetrator of this case is a vengeful spirit who roamed the world to find the victim seen here to avenge his fiancée and her father.

While I sympathize with the unfortunate circumstances a hundred times over, vigilante justice is not permitted in this country.

As I recall, there were a total of two enemies he targeted as prey.

The perpetrator will reveal himself once more to commit another murder.

The next to die will be Joseph Stangerson, the victim’s friend and secretary.

While the death of villains is always welcome, such deaths must be the result of the stern judgment of the law, not an act of vengeance.

Unless the opponent is a villain like Moriarty, who operates above the law.

“Contact the Cleveland police.”

“I already did.”

“In that case, it seems we’ve missed something important. Look for someone who had a serious conflict with the murdered Drebber. The culprit is still working as a cabman in London. He must be over 6.2 feet tall, so it shouldn’t be hard to find him.”

“Do you have any basis for what you’re saying now…?”

“Obviously. Since no valuable possessions were taken, it’s undoubtedly a murder out of resentment.”

“Why do you think the culprit is a coachman?”

“No matter how overpowering the lily scent is, one can distinguish the smell of single malt Shaoxing wine.”

“……”

There was also a peculiar smell that couldn’t be identified as either tobacco or herbs, but I’ll take my time figuring that out.

“There are not many professions where you can take a drunkard to an ownerless house and kill them. If you don’t believe me, check the wheel tracks left on the mud.”

I presented the evidence to Lestrade and Gregson and once again examined the spot where the corpse had lain.

Discolored flesh and a large amount of splattered blood.

Clearly, a fight broke out here.

The fact that the victim’s body bore no external injuries means that being stabbed and slashed with a sword here points to the culprit.

Since he suffered serious injuries from the Lily Sword Technique, I may not even need to step in.

“If you want to arrest the culprit, you’d better hurry. He might already be dead, having fallen victim to the Lily Sword Technique.”

The culprit I caught before returning had a heart condition and died before standing trial.

If he is suffering from the same illness in this world, the wound inflicted by Drebber might have worsened, and he might already be dead.

“The case is solved, Watson. We have time to move your luggage from the hotel.”

Watson stood agape, and the two inspectors were equally stunned.

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Having easily solved the first case, I helped Watson with her move and then fell into a deep sleep.

Watson, unfamiliar with her new home, managed to fall asleep only at dawn and woke up in the afternoon.

Meanwhile, I was alone in the living room, lost in thought.

Having resolved a case more easily than before the regression, there would be much time left in the future.

If I continue to train during that time, becoming strong enough to confront Moriarty wouldn’t just be a dream.

…As I indulged in such complacent thoughts.

“We found the coachman.”

The news delivered by Lestrade’s subordinate served as a good stimulus.

“Name?”

“Jefferson Hope.”

“Was he arrested? Or was he already dead?”

“Well…”

The young officer hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“He was found as a dismembered corpse.”

“…!”

“It had already been three days since he died. That is, two days before the victim’s death.”