Chapter 42 – Hero (6)

"Is it you?"

Arthur Conan Doyle's voice was filled with disbelief. Even he thought his question was foolish, but he couldn't help it.

"Are you Hanslow Jin?"

"Ah, yes..."

It was understandable.

This young man from the distant East, who he had desperately sought as his muse, was Hanslow Jin?

"But, you... While you have calluses on your left fingers, they aren't that severe. For someone who writes so quickly and so much, your hands..."

"Ah, I write using a typewriter."

"A typewriter? That noisy thing?"

"Well, it has its own charm, don't you think?"

I had always used a blue switch.

Arthur Conan Doyle was left speechless by the young man's inexplicable words.

"Hmmm..."

Instead, he opened a mental notebook and naturally reflected on how this fact aligned with his hypothesis.

─ Hanslow Jin must be an avid reader.

─ Hanslow Jin must not be European.

─ Hanslow Jin must be a young man by nature.

Amazingly, it was 100% accurate.

The young Korean man before him perfectly matched the writer he envisioned as 'Hanslow Jin.'

He wondered why he hadn't asked sooner.

"I see. Haha, if that's the case... I have only one thing to say."

"Yes? What is it..."

Arthur Conan Doyle quietly took off his hat, held it to his chest, closed his eyes, and bowed deeply.

"Thank you. Young man. No, Hanslow Jin. You have saved my soul."

"... It is an honour, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

Even in such a situation, showing humility would be an insult to the other party.

Therefore, Hanslow Jin also bowed his head to Arthur Conan Doyle.

***

Once we revealed each other's identities, the conversation flowed smoothly.

How I came to write Peter Perry. The story of how he captured Aaron Kosminski thanks to the information I provided.

From why I went to Scotland Yard, to how Arthur Conan Doyle developed an interest in studying Eastern history after meeting me.

One surprising fact was that I had become a target of the Royal Society of Literature.

What? Since when? And why hadn't they done anything noticeable?

Most importantly, I thought the Royal Society of Literature was a rather free-spirited group, respected even by Tolkien. Was it really such a stodgy organisation?

The gap between my knowledge and reality was so significant that it made my head spin.

"Hmm, I don't understand why you're reacting like that. Isn't it obvious from the name that they would be like that? I thought you were aware and responding accordingly."

"No, that's from another story... Anyway, what do you mean by responding? I only found out today that they had any ill feelings towards me."

"Really? Haha, that's amusing. They were so wary of you that they even suggested I resign as a grandmaster to contain you."

"Resign as a grandmaster... Are we talking about the Roman Colosseum?"

"Well, don't worry. Despite the grand name, the Royal Society of Literature is just a social group with no real power. Whatever authority they had was already stripped away by our esteemed predecessor, Charles Dickens."

"Ah, I see..."

If Conan Doyle said that, it must be a truly fallen group. It makes me wonder how they managed to revive in the future.

Anyway, if there hasn't been any problem so far, there shouldn't be any in the future. I decided to take his words lightly and listened attentively.

"Well, I'll look into it thoroughly, so don't worry and focus on your writing. You have more than one ongoing serial, don't you? Peter Perry, Vincent Villiers, King Arthur and the Knight of Mathematics, DawnBringer... Good heavens! You have a lot. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Haha... It's much better than where I used to live. Besides, Lewis Carroll writes most of King Arthur and the Knight of Mathematics, so it doesn't take much time."

Although I had many serials running simultaneously, most of them were weekly or monthly, so I had plenty of time. I even managed to balance it with my work with Mr. Miller.

In fact... Historically speaking, maintaining a daily serial pace is almost impossible. How did I manage it back then?

"Anyway, it's impressive. I'm envious as a writer."

"Haha, thank you. But I think this is possible because of 'training.' If others tried, they could do it too. More importantly, sir."

"Uh, yes?"

"What will you do, sir?"

What mattered most to me right now was something else.

I looked at him with determined eyes.

"Me? What are you talking about?"

Of course, it was about...

"Sherlock Holmes."

Arthur Conan Doyle had said he would write about Holmes again. As a self-proclaimed Sherlockian, that was what concerned me the most.

Moreover,

"You can't just bring Sherlock back without a proper reason."

"Hmm, that's true."

Holmes' story ended with 'falling off a waterfall, and his body was never found.'

So, actually, it would have been fine to just say he came back to life due to a miraculous encounter, poof~. After all, The Adventure of the Empty House was like that.

But honestly, isn't that a bit bland?

Conan Doyle thought for a moment and then slowly opened his mouth.

"Well, that's something to think about from now on. Killing Sherlock was something I did on impulse after seeing you kill Peter, so I haven't given it much thought since then."

"... What did you say!?"

No, I did think he killed off characters rather quickly... Could that have been my butterfly effect? Was I Moriarty?

Arthur Conan Doyle chuckled at my shocked expression, taking a sip of his ginger ale before speaking.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about that. In a way, aren't you my senior in this regard? How did you come up with such a development?"

Not in a good way, it seems.

I responded with a reluctant expression.

"Well, I don't know if my opinion will be helpful... but I've always used character deaths as a means to create a sense of crisis. And if you're going to kill someone, it's most impactful to kill the main character."

"Is that so? In terms of suspense, it's similar to putting Watson in the villain's trap in a detective novel."

He muttered to himself and started jotting down notes lightly.

"Anyway, I'll come up with something soon. I usually create such storylines rather quickly. After all, London is a place where many incidents occur."

"Haha, indeed. Then, I'll look forward to it."

"But."

He stopped for a moment and looked at me with a meaningful gaze before smiling and continuing.

"For the time being, I'm thinking of releasing stories about Sherlock's past, in a long-form rather than a monthly serial."

"Excuse me?"

"Meanwhile, I'll subtly hint at the possibility that Sherlock might still be alive. Didn't you do something similar? Leaving room for readers to hope and making them anxious. I intend to use that, so they'll wait even more eagerly."

"Wow, I mean..."

Is he a devil? No, from his tone, it seems like he just thought of this now.

He said he got the idea from my work, but that's an exaggeration. After all, you did The Hound of the Baskervilles in your previous life too!

But now it seems like it's all because of me. I feel so wronged!

Anyway, then.

"So, sir, you're saying you'll release a prequel?"

"Prequel? Ah, you mean a story set before the previous one? Yes, it will be set before The Final Problem, so it would be."

In that case, since it's come to this... shall I suggest a few more ideas?

I pretended to think and then spoke.

"Well then, about Moriarty."

"Ah... that patchwork character."

So it was a patchwork character. Since he only appeared in The Valley of Fear afterwards, it was disappointing for someone like me who loves to delve deep.

In fact, this disappointment led many fan creators to twist and use Moriarty in various ways to add more depth.

Sometimes, settings created by fan creators are good enough to be adopted by the original, or rather, they should be.

I said confidently.

"Yes, how about using that more actively?"

"Moriarty?"

"Yes, even though you said he was a patchwork character, he seems quite attractive. How about making him a genuine character by adding more depth to his backstory?"

"Hmm..."

Arthur Conan Doyle's eyes sparkled.

His keen intellect quickly grasped how interesting a 'main villain' concept, which wasn't originally part of the Sherlock Holmes series, could be.

"Indeed, like the mythical creatures in DawnBringer, you mean to build up Moriarty as Sherlock's antagonist, operating in the shadows of London?"

"Exactly. While individual episodic stories are good, having a larger framework helps in guiding the direction, doesn't it?"

"Indeed, that's not a bad idea. Then, the past... No, it might be better to revive Moriarty as well. Behind the professor... Aha."

His pen moved quickly across the notebook. New settings and stories kept pouring out.

"Handling subordinates with cold charisma, or rather, guiding their actions with subtle hints is also good. A crime organisation would need executors to carry out the crimes. Giving him a subordinate who is a sharpshooter and ex-soldier would emphasise his power... and it would be good to pit him against Watson."

"Um. To emphasise the double life, how about adding a spouse's story? Someone who supports him blindly without knowing anything."

"Oh, a spouse... Yes, an antagonist who shows sharp intellect outside while acting warmly at home. That's fascinating! A noblewoman unknowingly supporting crime is also interesting."

Arthur Conan Doyle, excited, started throwing off his coat and enthusiastically pouring out various settings.

I was convinced.

Sherlock Holmes would make a complete comeback.

***

"Whew. That was a truly fruitful time."

After parting ways with Hanslow Jin and returning home, Arthur Conan Doyle murmured in the brightest and most cheerful voice he had used in days.

That young man was indeed an excellent muse for him.

He had even indirectly influenced him without his knowledge! How wonderful it was to have such a great friend and comrade.

The only regret was that his residence was quite far away.

─ Come to think of it, didn't he say he was staying in Devon?

"Ah, yes. Now that this matter is all settled, I think it's time for me to head down."

"Oh no, that's such a shame, really a shame!!"

Arthur Conan Doyle, who was lamenting that he wished he could stay up all night talking about writing, saw his youngest sister doing the dishes in place of their mother.

"Big brother, you're back?"

"Yes, Brian. Hmm... are you seventeen this year?"

"Huh? Yeah. Why?"

"Seventeen..."

Arthur Conan Doyle groaned at the thought of the young age. But that young man, Hanslow Jin, didn't he have a similar face?

"No, no. With that knowledge and character, he can't possibly be just seventeen."

Then should he ask Jane, who was two years older, or perhaps Constance, who was twenty-six? But Arthur shook his head as he remembered that Constance was engaged.

For someone as rational as him, matters of great importance in life involved too many considerations.

"Ugh, it's difficult!"

"Brother, stop talking nonsense and go to your room. A guest arrived earlier."

"A guest?"

Wondering who the guest might be, Arthur Conan Doyle entered his room and soon found a familiar face.

"Oh, Detective Hopkins."

"Ahaha, it's good to see you again so soon, sir."

Seeing the face of the detective from Scotland Yard with whom he was friendly, Arthur smiled and nodded.

Though not as much as Hanslow Jin, Hopkins had inspired Arthur several times, making him a person Arthur held in high regard.

"So, what brings you here? Coming all the way here personally."

"Oh, it's nothing special... it looks like I'll be going on a long-term assignment to Dartmoor in Devon soon. I thought I'd drop by to say goodbye before heading down."

"Hmm. Dartmoor is quite far..."

Wait, Devon? Arthur's eyes gleamed.

Devon, a remote area even within England.

And Dartmoor, known for its wilderness even in Devon.

"What kind of case is it?"

"A series of disappearances, but one of the victims is an heir to a noble family, complicating the matter of inheritance. So..."

"Hohoho."

Arthur Conan Doyle's eyes sparkled.

Various thoughts raced through his mind.

Included were conversations he had had at Scotland Yard a few days ago, the discussions with Hanslow Jin today, and plans he had yet to share.

Everything was coming together.

After organising all these thoughts, he replied to the detective, who was calmly explaining the situation before him.

"Is it possible for me to accompany you on that assignment?"