Stop trying to control me, Miss Moriarty!

Chapter 29 The Man with the Crooked Lips

[Repair complete]

After the familiar blue characters appeared, the scarlet text vanished in an instant, along with the buzzing deep within Erin's brain.

It was as if that strange phenomenon, bordering on mental pollution, had never happened.

But if Erin wanted to, he could still make the crimson text reappear, just like he would with any other mission.

He glanced at the last line of text out of the corner of his eye.

[Node Correction Reward: "Apocalypse · ■■■■"]

The red square in front has somehow transformed into text, but its meaning remains unclear.

...The reward is "Apocalypse"?

The previous system wasn't exactly generous, but it was certainly very stingy. Now it's like a miser suddenly opening his vault and dumping chests and chests of gold in front of him.

This made Erin feel a little uneasy, since the reward for completing "Bohemian Scandal" was only enough to raise his rank by one.

Why don't we just ask Moriarty for help?

The thought popped into his head almost instinctively...

After all, no matter how powerful Jack the Ripper is, who appeared out of nowhere, he couldn't possibly be a match for the final boss.

"Sir, are you alright?!"

Brad Street's gruff voice interrupted Erin's thoughts.

He blinked and saw that the fierce face was full of worry.

"My apologies, Director." Erin rubbed his temples, looking apologetic. "Dizziness, it's an old problem. I took medication not long ago, but it's flared up again. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"No, no, no, I'm so glad you're alright, I'm so glad you're alright."

Brad Street breathed a sigh of relief.

If the Queen of Bohemia's envoy were to die here, even if it were due to her own illness, it would likely cause a diplomatic crisis between the two countries, a responsibility he could not bear.

His tense face relaxed: "Shall we continue our previous topic?"

"Okay." Erin nodded in response, "My statement just now may have misled you. There is no connection between Hugh Boone and Jack the Ripper."

"...I see."

The glimmer of hope that had just appeared in Bradstreet's eyes dimmed again.

He didn't press further or complain. He quickly composed himself and spoke again: "So, what exactly did you mean by 'helping with a small favor'?"

Charlotte picked up the conversation: "It might be a bit complicated, but you'll understand once you meet Hugh Boone in person. Is now a good time?"

“Of course, I’ll take you there right away.” Brad Street stood up. “Madam, you can leave your belongings here for now.”

Charlotte smiled and said, "Thank you, but I'd better carry it with me. Besides, it might come in handy later."

Brad Street seemed a little confused, but nodded nonetheless: "Okay, please come with me."

Deep inside the police station corridor is an underground passageway leading to the prison.

The white lime on both walls has turned a grayish-green color due to the damp environment over the years.

Brad Street's heavy footsteps stopped ahead. He took out his key and unlocked the latch of the metal gate in front of him.

"The third room on the right, that's his..."

As Brad Street spoke, he habitually glanced into the cell.

However, his words came to an abrupt end, like a violin string snapping without warning.

Erin and Charlotte both looked in the same direction.

A prisoner huddled on a straw mat in the corner of his cell.

He was so ugly it was almost repulsive; a huge scar ran diagonally from his left eye socket to his jaw, splitting his face in two. His lips were severely crooked to one side, and several front teeth protruded, making him look like a hyena tearing at carrion.

Those tattered rags on his body could hardly be called prison clothes anymore.

The exposed flesh was rolled up, and the bright red muscle and yellow fat looked even more shocking against the pale skin.

The dried blood had stained the straw beneath him brown, but fresh blood was still seeping from his wounds. His breathing was extremely weak, and the rise and fall of his chest was almost imperceptible.

Charlotte urged, "Director, please open the door. I brought some emergency medication."

"good……"

Brad Street took out the key and unlocked the lock.

His hands were trembling slightly.

He remembered clearly that he had been busy with the Jack the Ripper case for the past three days and had never ordered anyone to interrogate the prisoner.

Moreover, even during interrogations, he never allowed his subordinates to resort to such near-murderous methods!

Charlotte and Erin entered the cell one after the other and knelt down beside the nearly broken body.

After being fed several bottles of healing potions produced by Mistrude, the prisoner's complexion quickly improved, and even his breathing became stronger.

They began to bandage it.

After everything was over, Brad Street finally couldn't contain his doubts and quickly asked, "Gentlemen, what exactly happened?"

"Please wait a moment."

Erin took out a sponge, soaked it in a water jug, and then vigorously rubbed it on Hugh Boone's face.

"This...this is?!"

Brad Street watched in astonishment; the prisoner's face looked as if a layer of skin had been scraped off, the scars had disappeared, and his lips had returned to normal.

The ugly fellow from before has now become a handsome, pale-faced man!

"etc……"

He seemed to have a fishbone stuck in his throat, and it took him a while to squeeze out the next words, "Isn't he the missing Neville St. Clair?"

Unauthorized vigilante torture, absurd accusations of self-murder...

A policeman's instincts kicked in at that moment, connecting everything together.

—Some people within the police department are eager to silence Hugh Boone forever.

Upon realizing this, Bradstreet's expression began to change drastically.

He stood there silently, his gaze fixed on the battered and unconscious St. Clair, making him appear an inch shorter.

Charlotte stood up and looked at him. "Chief, it seems you've deduced some facts. And the reason this gentleman is being treated this way is because he learned of some of the illegal activities of the Golden Sparrow Pavilion."

Brad Street let out a long, long breath.

"Thank you, you two really helped me a lot."

He lowered his head, his back hunched even more, his eyes filled with utter dejection: "It's my fault for not training my men properly."

"Director, this is not your fault. We can never control what other people think," Erin said softly, trying to comfort the lion who was radiating frustration.

Brad Street smiled bitterly: "I understand, I'm really sorry to have you two seen me like this."

Erin hesitated for a moment before asking, "Could you elaborate on Jack the Ripper you just mentioned?"

"This is a secret that shouldn't be shared... but probably all of London will know about our incompetence by tomorrow, so it won't hurt to tell you two."

Brad Street took a deep breath and began to speak:

"Three days ago, in the early morning, we received our first report: a man's body had been found. His abdomen had been cut open, his internal organs removed, and his genitals completely severed. And this was just the beginning. In the past few days, a total of five men have died as a result, all in the same manner."

Upon hearing this outrageous method of death, Erin felt a chill run down his spine.

Wait a minute, why did the Ripper kill a man?

He quickly followed up, "Chief, were there any common characteristics among the deceased?"

Brad Street shook his head helplessly: "There's no social connection between them. If I had to say, their private lives are both a bit chaotic..."

Charlotte glanced at Erin: "In that case, why don't you send someone to follow Erin Adler? If the Ripper specifically targets people like him, he would never let him go."

Brad Street shrugged. "We thought of your method yesterday. But unfortunately, that London scoundrel is currently living at the Royal College, and the Ripper isn't going to commit suicide."

Erin: "..."

Holmes definitely did it on purpose!

He interrupted the conversation: "Director, since Mr. St. Clair is innocent, we will take him for further treatment."

"Wouldn't it be too obvious to go out like this?"

"Please rest assured, I happen to be a magician." Charlotte's magic surged, and almost instantly she completed a "concealment" spell, hiding St. Clair's body.

She concluded by adding, "As for how to find spies within the police department, you can spread false rumors about Hugh Boone's escape, and they'll naturally come forward."

Brad Street bowed deeply again: "Thank you both for your help."

He watched the two figures disappear into the distance, took out a Marlboro cigarette, lit it, and fell into a long silence once again.