Becoming Professor Moriarty's Probability

- Step, step...

“”.........””

Using the excuse of having too many pressing matters to attend to upon my return, I managed to delay giving a proper answer, and now I found myself walking through the back alleys alongside Poppy.

“Uh... hey, Poppy.”

“... What is it?”

“Well, you know... Actually, never mind.”

Normally, having her around would’ve been incredibly reassuring. The problem, however, was that Poppy had been walking with her head tilted toward me, staring at my face intently the entire time.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“...... No, it’s nothing.”

I wanted to tell her to stop doing that, but the ominous gleam in her eyes kept the words stuck in my throat.

“Nothing at all...”

The bright, eager, puppy-like gaze that used to pant happily at the mere sight of me was nowhere to be found. Instead, her eyes were sharp, almost predatory— like a hound sizing up its prey.

And knowing that the one behind that gaze was the ruler of the Underworld, it was hard to treat her the way I used to.

- Flinch...

“... Huh.”

So when Poppy suddenly stopped walking, I instinctively flinched and froze in place as well.

“........”

“P-Poppy...?”

But there she was, standing still, quietly humming through her nose while staring at me. Something about her behaviour seemed... off.

“What’s wrong all of a sudden?”

Instead of resuming her walk, she clasped her hands behind her back and began scrutinising me, her eyes roving over every inch of my body.

What was she doing now?

As embarrassing as it was to admit, I couldn’t even escape London’s back alleys without Poppy’s help in my current state.

I needed her full cooperation, but now...

“... Let’s go, Master.”

“...Y-Yeah.”

Just as I was grappling with the awkwardness of the situation, Poppy suddenly curled her lips faintly and resumed walking.

Why does it feel like our roles have been reversed...?

There was also this nagging feeling that we were just wandering around in circles. And the subtle sense that I was moving according to her commands left me feeling uneasy.

- Swish...

“... Ah?”

That’s when Poppy, who had been walking slightly ahead of me, suddenly stuck out her foot, tripping me up.

“Ow...!”

Of course, now that I was completely an ordinary human, there was no way I could react in time to such swift movements. Before I knew it, I was sprawled out on the dirty ground of the back alley.

“... Poppy?”

Covered in dirt, I blinked in confusion as I turned my gaze toward her.

- Press...

“Eh?”

Before I could even process what had just happened, Poppy climbed on top of me, straddling my stomach. Without a word, she grabbed both my arms and forcefully pinned them above my head.

“Wh-Why are you doing this?”

“.......”

“C-Could you, uh, stop, maybe...?”

Her sudden action had me trembling, my voice shrinking as I muttered nervously. Poppy, who had been silently gazing down at me for what felt like an eternity, finally began speaking in a low, almost inaudible voice.

“Weak.”

“.......”

“Why are you so weak?”

The moment her words hit me, a stream of cold sweat started streaming down my face.

“My Master... was so strong that someone like me was nothing more than a toy under his palms.”

“Uh, uuuh...”

“So why are you this weak?”

Facing her eyes, which seemed to delve into the depths of my very soul, my mind went blank. Yet, having been in far too many similar situations, my mouth began spewing excuses on autopilot.

“Th-That’s because... after what happened two years ago, I lost my powers, you see...?”

“.......”

“I used up all the strength I had left just to resurrect myself! So, for now, I have to live like an ordinary person, just temporarily...”

Her gaze, which had been fixed on me, flickered with a strange light for a brief moment as she processed my words.

“So... could you help me out for a bit, Poppy?”

Watching her carefully, I whispered those words, swallowing dryly as I anxiously awaited her response.

- Ssshhh...

After what felt like an eternity, she finally released the pressure she had been exerting on me. With a faint smile, she leaned in close to my ear and murmured.

“So that’s how it is?”

“.......”

“... Got it.”

For some reason, her use of honorifics felt a little out of place now, as if even the language itself didn’t suit her anymore. But I could say nothing.

“Please, get up.”

“... Okay.”

“For the time being, I shall protect you.”

Because without her, well— there was a real possibility I’d end up in pieces, scattered across the globe to be discovered years later.

“Do not stray from my side, please. Okay?”

Even as my once-loyal pet flashed a chilling smile and grabbed my hand to lead me forward, I could do nothing but accept the reality of the situation.

“Please answer.”

“... Understood.”

“Thank you very much.”

What was going to happen to me now?

What do you think?

Warning! – Probability of Role-Reversal — 100%Suppressing the urge to groan, I ignored Miss System’s blunt message flashing in front of me. Instead, I trudged forward alongside Poppy, who wore that unnervingly predatory smile.

Masterisweakerthanme, MasterIsWeakerThanMe, masterisweakerthanme, MASTERISWEAKERTHANME...

“Fuu...”

... Doesn’t that make me the Master now?

“Hey, Poppy.”

Watching her for a moment as she sank into a serious, contemplative expression, I hesitantly asked her a question.

“Do you happen to know where my other subordinates are?”

“Why, if I may ask?”

I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I probably needed to reveal that I had survived to them just so I could avoid being dragged off to the Underworld.

“... I just, you know, want to see them.”

“Tsk.”

“A-Ahaha...”

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A few days had passed since the figure that had once thrown London into chaos silently returned to the heart of the city.

“........”

The genius girl, Charlotte Holmes, who had broken her two-year absence by announcing her return in a grand fashion through the newspapers was currently in her home at 221B Baker Street.

- Click...

Across from her residence, in the uninhabited Camden Manor, a cold-eyed girl quietly rested her air rifle on the windowsill, methodically loading it.

“Hoo...”

The owner of the air rifle, a weapon bearing marks of having been once broken and repaired, was none other than Celestia Moran.

In the two years since the incident, she had grown significantly, now standing shockingly close to Inspector Lestrade’s height, despite being only 14 years old. Bringing her eye to the rifle’s scope, she exhaled deeply and steadied herself.

“The target... not yet.”

After spending a period as a hollow shell of her former self, wracked with guilt for her role in the incident that led to her master’s death, she had recently returned to the Professor’s organisation. There, she had thrown herself into the dirtiest, most menial tasks, almost as if in penance.

But it wasn’t loyalty to the Professor that drove her. No, it was the crushing guilt she felt towards the offspring of her former master— towards the bloodline she had betrayed.

... Will I succeed?

The Professor’s latest order for her was clear and brutal— the assassination of Charlotte Holmes.

Since announcing her return, Charlotte had inflicted devastating blows on the Professor’s organisation, which was still in the process of rebuilding. She was sharper, more cunning, and far more ruthless than she had been two years ago. And today, Moran’s job was to eliminate her.

Even the Professor couldn’t finish her off properly...

Yet, with years of experience under her belt, Moran knew all too well that Charlotte Holmes was no easy prey. Unlike her usual composed self, her nerves were stretched taut.

... No, that doesn’t matter.

Wiping the cold sweat from her brow with her sleeve, she steadied herself, taking a deep breath before returning her focus to the rifle’s scope.

For the safety of the children...

Moran already knew all too well that Charlotte had visited the Professor’s study and office twice.

She also vividly remembered the expression Charlotte wore when she emerged after meeting the children, even though Moran had only observed it from the neighbouring building.

... My life or honour doesn’t matter anymore.

If, by any chance, the Professor were to lose to Charlotte, no one could predict what might happen to the children under her care.

I have to make it happen today... I can’t fail, no matter what.

Reminding herself of this, Moran began minimising her breaths, waiting for Charlotte’s figure to appear in the window.

“........”

How much time had passed like this?

- Ssshh...

“.......!”

Finally, something shifted in her unwavering field of vision.

At last...

The shadow flickering against the window of 221B Baker Street gradually grew darker, and Moran’s heart turned icy cold.

- Crrreeeak...

Seconds later, as the window within her sights swung fully open, her finger on the trigger began to tighten.

- Thud...!

“......!?”

But at that precise moment, her rifle tilted unexpectedly, the muzzle dropping downward before the air rifle slanted completely off target.

- Blfff...!

The next instant, the sharp blast of compressed air, nearly silent, shot forth— not toward the window, but instead piercing through the wall ahead, leaving a clean hole in its wake.

“”.............””

And then, silence.

Was I discovered...?

In the oppressive stillness, cold sweat ran down Moran’s back as she nervously glanced at the robed figure that had suddenly appeared behind her, their hand pressed firmly on her rifle to pull it down.

If it’s come to this...!

Quietly, she reached into her pocket, her fingers brushing the emergency pistol she always carried. But—

“Moran, carrying a gun in your pocket is a nasty habit.”

“.......!?!?”

At that moment, she froze, utterly dumbfounded by the all-too-familiar voice that seeped out from beneath the hooded robe.

“The professor used to always warn me about that.”

“..... W-what?”

Even after all these years, there was no mistaking that warm, gentle voice.

“Y-Yo-You...”

Because it belonged to him. The man who had once dragged her out of the living hell she had been trapped in.

“... Master?”

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“”.......?””

Meanwhile, in front of 221B Baker Street,

“What’s going on?”

Charlotte, who had been hiding behind the signboard with Inspector Lestrade, waiting for Moran to take a shot at her decoy, tilted her head and murmured in confusion.

“... Why hasn’t she fired?”

Something had clearly gone awry with the plan.