Pastor's Tantra

Chapter 50 Edward Moriarty

The fire in the fireplace crackled, and Sherlock, who simply covered himself with a thick woolen coat, slowly opened his eyes.

His almost amber brown pupils slowly focused and became sharper.

With a deep and forceful inhalation, Sherlock sat up from the rocking chair with great effort.

He stood up and used the chemical equipment on the table to boil himself a glass of water with trembling hands. The temperature had only reached 30 or 40 degrees Celsius, and the coldness of the winter morning had just gone away, so he added three tablespoons of honey to it.

After drinking it all, he closed his eyes silently and stood there with his back straight.

He seemed to be savoring the taste of the honey water, and he seemed to be recovering his strength quickly.

After a while, he slowly opened his eyes. The always calm Sherlock Hermes finally returned.

"Why am I third?"

He murmured in a low voice: "Apart from the 'Bone Sculpture', who else has higher points than me? Fox, or Coco?"

After thinking for a while, I kept this doubt in my mind.

He immediately started thinking about something else:

"In that scene just now, who does that pale and skinny hand belong to? Who is that fat man?

"The illusions that will be displayed during settlement must be important scenes related to the mission. And they are arranged in the order of what happened. The suicide of 'Fox' determined our victory, and that incident happened after...

"Is that fat man the murderer? In that case, who does that white hand belong to?"

There are only two possible people.

Either bone carvings or cocoa. It's possible that both of them... their faces are not in the picture.

But considering that "Fox" has two scenes, that means his points may be higher than Sherlock's. Then if you include Coco, the position will not be enough.

That is to say, the person who gets the most points in the "Kill the Murderer" task is most likely a bone sculpture.

——What a dangerous person.

With the first level, he can surpass the level and kill the second level demon scholar... His other path will probably be very high level.

"Lars Graham..."

Sherlock murmured lowly and found a file from the cabinet behind him.

The lighting in his house is average, the space is narrow, and the ventilation is not good. The air reverberated with the smell of chemical reagents mixed with dust. Ritual materials, books and various files were scattered on the bookshelves and tables.

Although it looks chaotic, he actually knows where different things are placed. At least he could always find it easily himself.

He pulled out the file, walked to the window, squinted his eyes and read it carefully.

"Born on February 29, 1824... He is 74 years old."

Iris was born in the small town of Seagoville. His father was a baker and his mother was a seamstress.

“When I was 14 years old, I started learning sculpture from Master Albert Adelaide, and when I was 18 years old, I embarked on the path of beauty. When I was 23 years old, the master passed away, and I was recommended to study at the University of La Cité. At the age of 28, I was hired by the University of La Cité. As a mentor.

"The first sculpture exhibition was held at the age of 34, he began to be called a master at the age of 38, and he became the deputy dean of the School of Art at the University of West-West at the age of 46..."

Sherlock murmured in a low voice and quickly checked the information at hand.

Then, his eyes focused on the middle part of the third page:

"...In 1893, he was invited to Avalon to carve a statue of Queen Sophia. This work was completed in February 1896.

"...In 1895, he became a distinguished professor of art at the Theological School of Wangli Law University, teaching 'General Aesthetics'. He resigned from this job in June 1898."

Five years ago he traveled from Iris to Avalon to carve an icon for the Queen who had a premonition of her impending death. This is his last job.

Three years ago... before the icon was completed, he began teaching aesthetics classes at the seminary. And only taught for three years.

Even though the image only passed by in a flash.

But Sherlock could see clearly that the white girl ghost was wearing the uniform of the seminary.

"……interesting."

Although there is still an examination of the missing persons, it is now almost complete.

This guy is a pain to deal with. As an international public figure, and as a foreigner...conclusive evidence is needed to convict someone. And I'm afraid the only punishment is expulsion.

But if it can be verified that he has taken the twilight path, perhaps it will be much easier to deal with.

"The bone sculpture won't be moved for the time being, fox..."

Sherlock murmured in a low voice: "Who are you?"

Reports to Her Majesty are not written in a hurry.

He wanted to verify the information given by the fox first, and then judge the fox's position based on the results.

So Sherlock thought for a while, then sat down at the table to write and draw. It was a map of Lloyd's District, and he was calculating the location of the abandoned chemical plant.

Then, Sherlock suddenly picked up the phone on the table and turned the heavy dial on the phone with one hand.

The phone only rang twice and was picked up immediately.

"Morning, Edward."

So Sherlock clamped the microphone around his neck and continued to draw on the map while speaking very fast: "My dear companion, I hope you have woken up - I mean, you were not woken up by me. , but wake up naturally. Yes, I have something to ask you - yes, it is very troublesome. So I need your help, very urgent. Please come to me immediately, I can treat you to breakfast, the place is your choice.

"—Yes, in Lloyd's District. It's called the Sweater Brotherhood. Do you remember it?"

At this moment.

Red Queen, Office of the Inspector General.

Inspector General Edward Moriarty was picking up the phone with his white-gloved left hand.

He has short, pure black hair, which is neatly combed back. On the slightly angular face, the black eyes are as deep as the abyss.

Compared to his younger siblings, Edward's appearance is much more ordinary. His cheekbones are slightly high and his face is square. It gives people a feeling of righteousness and awe-inspiringness.

He was leaning back in his seat, wearing the inspector's signature black suit, which looked like mourning clothes. He was so muscular that he could fill his suit to the full with ease. The thick coat only reached to the waist, and the lower body was made up of slim-fitting black trousers and black leather shoes. There was a white handkerchief in his breast pocket, a white glove on his left hand, and nothing on his right hand. The knuckles and bones are exceptionally clear, giving people a sense of strength.

Edward looked obviously unhappy, but he didn't hang up the phone actively.

After all, this is his best friend, his classmate...his most reliable old partner.

Inspector Moriarty's ungloved right hand slowly touched the paper.

There was a long list of names on it--it meant "to be inspected."

"The Sweater Brotherhood..."

Edward murmured in a low voice, squinting his eyes as he recalled, "I've heard of this name, but I'm not impressed by it."

His voice is deep and magnetic, giving people a reliable and steady feeling.

"That should be a group of stranglers. They were named this because when they were in poverty, they relied on the support of the current leader's mother, who gave each of them a set of sweaters with a similar pattern. Later, when they came out to become a gang, they became known as This sweater serves as the name of the organization.

"What, did they offend you? Or do you want to bribe them to do something for you?"

"——According to reliable information, they may be related to the people behind the Pelican Bar. And I got intelligence about their gathering place."

On the other end of the phone, Sherlock's slightly distorted voice came: "So I invite you to investigate with me. I do have some concerns. If this information is true, then there are indeed dangerous factors that may kill me. .”

Upon hearing this, Edward frowned slightly.

Under his black pupils, there was a dazzling silver-white light gradually gathering and shining.

"really?"

Edward said solemnly: "You know who is behind them."

"Sixty percent. After all, I haven't had time to verify it yet." Sherlock replied.

"Your sixty percent is already very high, Hermes. I believe you."

"Then meet at my house, Inspector General. Bring your sidearm and white gloves."

"Okay, see you later."

Edward finished speaking crisply and hung up the phone.

He put a beautiful white short gun on his waist and hung two elf-style silver short swords.

Then, Edward took out the white whistle necklace from his collar and blew it hard.

The white whistle did not make any sound, but after a while, the sound of a griffon flapping its wings was heard outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

He opened the window and put his black griffin mount in so that it could eat something first.

After eating, he was ready to ride a griffon to Sherlock's house.

At this moment, there was a knock on his office door.

"——Report to Deputy Chief Assad."

Edward made a cold voice: "Go to Mrs. Hong for material approval. I want to go out."

"It's me, Edward."

The soft, gentle voice of his adoptive father, James Moriarty, came from the doorway.

Edward raised his eyebrows, and his iceberg-like stern and cold face relaxed slightly.

He immediately went over and opened the door.

Because he was much taller than his adoptive father, he bowed slightly and his tone became gentle: "Father, what's the matter? Come to me so early."

"Are you going out?"

The polite old gentleman glanced at the griffin who was eating in the room, lowered the brim of his hat, and joked gently: "It just so happens that I also have to go on a long trip."

"Far door? How far?"

"Go to the Theocracy. I originally wanted Oswald to go for me, but after thinking about it, I'd better go by myself for such a big thing. Come back in about two weeks, and take care of your younger brothers and sisters during this time."

Old James said warmly: "Oh, by the way. Aiwass is going back to school, please remember to make arrangements."

"No problem, Father."

The silent and stern young man nodded slightly: "I will go home during this period to protect the safety of Aiwass and Yulia."

"Well, that's good. The Glass Island is going to be in chaos... and there's one more thing," Old James added slowly, "let's wrap up the matter at the Pelican Bar and clear up the clues. That's the end of it. If anyone wants to continue investigating, please leave them alone."

"……yes."

"Oh, right."

Old James suddenly asked: "Have you not found the letter I asked you to find before?"

"Yes, indeed not."

Edward replied: "Corpse No. 2 has lost a lot of things that should be there. Even her 'Noble Red' is missing."

"That should be taken away by Aiwass."

Old James said warmly: "After all, Veronica's 'Noble Red' is also in your brother's hands. If that's the case, then don't look for it."

"Father," Edward couldn't help but ask, "which minister is in contact with the association...can you tell me? If I don't know anything, I can't protect Aiwass?"

"Shh..."

Old James smiled and put his finger in front of his mouth.

Edward fell silent immediately.

The old man said slowly: "If Aiwass will be in danger because of his justice and curiosity, then let him solve it by himself. Just last night, I observed the aura of the dream world. Aiwass began to conduct the first This is the first advancement ceremony... the child finally started to have some secrets of his own, I am very satisfied."

He squinted his somewhat cloudy gray pupils and said warmly: "As for the spies, I advise you not to know. Secrets are a kind of power. But secrets cannot be a sharp blade in your hands, they can only become shackles of your mind. .”

"Father……"

"——Soon. Edward, soon. I will leave all this to you sooner or later...but it's far from now."

"...What now? What should I do now?"

Edward was silent for a while and added: "Except for the finishing touches at the Pelican Bar..."

"Now you should do what you wanted to do before. Aren't you just about to go out?"

The old man who would never get angry narrowed his eyes, patted the tall Edward on the shoulder, and said with a kind smile: "But remember to eat some food. If you don't eat breakfast, it will be bad for your stomach."