Miss Holmes, the Professor Is Not a Villain

23 – The East End Opium Peddlers (6)

Fred Porlock grumbled and gulped down the tea brought by the Chinese, then grimaced and put it down.

The strange tea that the Chinese drank did not suit his taste. In fact, ever since he came to this restaurant unexpectedly, he had been acting this way.

His boss, Moriarty, was calm, made a few orders to the Chinese in Chinese, and then focused on his meal in silence, but Porlock, not being like Moriarty, could not do that.

Working under Moriarty always led to questions. Porlock was a person who hardly ever had doubts in his life. Being with Moriarty meant jumping into these curious situations.

‘When did you start learning Chinese?’ This question rose to his throat, but through his past experience, Porlock kept quiet. If Moriarty knew this, he might have been happy that Porlock finally learned something, like a teacher seeing a child do addition for the first time.

Even without hearing the answer, Porlock could easily deduce it. Undoubtedly, Moriarty would probably say that anyone could learn something like Chinese by just reading a book for 2-3 weeks.

These trivial questions kept popping up as a kind of escape behavior. Fred Porlock glanced briefly at the cursed female sitting closer to Moriarty between himself and the professor.

As soon as the cursed werewolf felt Porlock’s gaze, she growled lowly and glared at Porlock, and Porlock could only avert his gaze first.

“Okay… why did you bring that wolf b*tch, professor? She could have just been beaten to death or left alone, and the Chinese would have handled it.”

Pock’s question was reasonable.

After all, the professor, who had been observing the wolf-girl, had instructed Pock to bind the girl a little more tightly and then proceeded to lead the girl to the nearest Chinese restaurant, along with Pock.

The reason was that they still hadn’t eaten lunch, but to Pock, it was an incomprehensible action. More than anything, weren’t they on their way to meet Fu Manchu?

Pock personally couldn’t understand why they had to drag along the cursed wolf pup. Of course, the professor might scoff at Pock’s belief as a superstition.

To Pock, the professor appeared to be the type of person who could deceit or swindle even if a devil’s spawn approached.

But Pock was just an ordinary magician, so he subtly adjusted his position and distanced himself from the half-breed werewolf that was forcibly seated next to the professor. Fortunately, the professor did not make any remark.

“Don’t eat too much, Pock. Think of it as simply eating appetizers.”

“I’m not thinking much. Anyway, don’t beat around the bush and just tell me, professor. Why did we bring this wolf pup? Is it because she almost collapsed and you’re curious if she’s going to be tortured?”

Of course, Pock expected the professor to mock his question. He wasn’t genuinely asking, either.

Certainly, the professor was a person who could become cruel when necessary, but he wasn’t obsessed with violence itself, unlike some of those who went mad in the field.

Instead of immediately answering Pock’s question, Moriarty subtly observed the girl devouring the dumplings placed in front of her.

Since she had the blood of a werewolf, she had to be bound by the special rope made by Pock. As a result, the girl was eating hastily with her face almost touching the plate.

She was the same girl who had been growling menacingly just before, but it seemed she couldn’t hide her joy over the sudden meal, as her fluffy golden-furred wolf ears were quivering. Even her wolf tail sticking out from behind her back was moving rapidly from side to side as a dog does when seeing its owner; it was certainly an interesting sight.

“She’s quite a remarkable pup, isn’t she, Pock?”

“Have you gone mad? Or, has it really been because of your age that you haven’t looked at women? I actually thought you might have an interest in men—”

“…Pock.”

“You know I am not being serious, professor? hehehe… Okay, okay, I won’t joke anymore, so please tell me. I’m too dim-witted to fathom your profound intentions.”

“Look, she has the appropriate amount of savvy, courage, and the ability to seize benefits without hesitation when necessary. She attempts to pick pockets, but when caught, she calmly eats the food offered to her. Isn’t that quite a fine trait?”

“Perhaps it’s audacity. Aren’t all the orphans wandering the streets like that? If they don’t eat when they get a chance, they die.”

Of course, even as he said this, Pock clandestinely glanced at the cursed wolf pup who, despite the situation, focused on eating leisurely, indicating her extraordinary nature.

It was far from ordinary audacity. As was evident when looking at street beggars or abandoned orphans, who were dirty, in tattered clothes, and exceptionally lean. Close up, one could see the multiple bruises on her body indicating possible abuse.

Pock, who was familiar with life on the streets, thought it was a common and expected occurrence.

However, those kinds of people had no choice but to be extremely conscious of their surroundings. They had to be humble to survive as long as possible.

But this half-breed with the blood of a werewolf was definitely unique, despite the conditions. Pock recognized her as an outlier, as she stood out from the common crowd.

Upon realizing this, Pock heaved a soft sigh unknowingly. The professor seemed to be fond of such types, unexpectedly.

“Moreover, she’s a werewolf.”

“Exactly a half-breed werewolf. She’s stronger than a human but weaker than a werewolf, so she could be seen as useless. Oh, watch out for your hand, she bites.”

Moriarty was absentmindedly patting the girl who was focusing on her meal. It partly felt like a small hunting dog was sitting next to him, so he acted on impulse.

Perhaps it was because of a memory from three years ago. Of course, the girl was different from Sherlock, but the sensation of patting her head was somewhat similar.

However, Pock’s warning was valid. Unknowingly, when he was stroking the ears of the wolf-girl, she swiftly bit Moriarty’s hand.

Once again, Moriarty’s scream echoed throughout the place. Fortunately, with Pock’s help, he was barely able to pull out his hand and confirm that his fingers were not cut off and severely injured.

Truly, the more he saw, the more appealing aspects he found in her. It was clear that it wouldn’t be difficult for her to inflict injury. After all, Moriarty himself was just an ordinary human.

But she only demonstrated a slight amount of pain and resistance, and didn’t cross the line. That way, the chances of her escaping herself were higher.

Really, if Moriarty himself were injured, no matter what, they couldn’t leave the girl unattended.

Of course, punishment was necessary.

Though they were aware that they need to tame her in the future, corporal punishment was a requirement for proper training. Thus, Moriarty glared at the werewolf girl who had been gagged by Pock and struck her on the head.

But, unusually, he soon realized he had done something foolish. No, before that, the pain was the first to jolt his senses.

If someone was punching a solid wall, it would seem as though they were drunk or had lost their senses. Moriarty realized he had become one of those people.

Contrary to her appearance, it felt like punching a solid metal plate, even causing him to slightly sprain his wrist.

Pock, who observed this, clicked his tongue and belatedly added an explanation.

“Even if it’s a half-penny, it’s a cub that has inherited the blood of a werewolf, Professor. It’s still young, so it’s only able to deflect a bullet or two?”

“…Tell me first next time, Furlock.”

With that, Moriarty turned his gaze back to the girl. He could feel her staring intently at him.

Yet, he could tell that the arrogant cub was smirking. It was mocking his actions.

Regardless, he was all the more fond of it.

“Unmuzzle her, she needs to finish her meal.”

Furlock followed without question. Luckily, the girl too seemed more preoccupied with filling her belly than anything else, and promptly buried her muzzle in her plate.

Furlock then opened his mouth again to address Moriarty, who was massaging his still numb wrist.

“So, when are we going to meet Fu Manchu?”

“He will come shortly, don’t worry. Who do you think sent this little one, Furlock?”

“Eh?”

“If it were a real pickpocket, they would have approached when there were many people around. Would they blatantly pickpocket under circumstances where the Chinese were avoiding unfamiliar people? It must have been Fu Manchu’s greeting. His people would be coming to invite us by now, so we just have to wait patiently, Furlock.”

“…Why did the Professor try to take his wallet? I can’t understand the thought process of these Chinese.”

“But luckily, we found out that this rascal is disposable. Isn’t that right, little one?”

“Growl!”

“Is it a human or a beast… Surely her intellect hasn’t dropped to the point of being unable to speak. Do you have a name?”

“…No.”

The girl who hadn’t uttered a human word since she was caught, and had only growled like a wolf, finally let out a human utterance at the question about her name.

It was reluctantly uttered, but she was clearly still young. The wolf’s ears were not able to completely hide her emotions.

Of course, due to the lack of sufficient information about werewolves, making hasty judgments was forbidden.

But the girl in front of him was just a young child.

The disagreeableness of having no name. Whether it was Fu Manchu’s gang or the gangs under it, she had not received proper treatment.

Looking at Furlock’s reaction, her treatment here was no different. A position readily disposable at any given moment.

Yet, she didn’t hesitate to bare her fangs to Moriarty, the man who may become her worst enemy at any moment.

Moriarty’s smile deepened as he observed the girl coldly. Furlock, who had come to realize the meaning while working under the professor, unconsciously looked away.

Unfortunately for the nameless girl, her meal did not continue. A group of Chinese people were approaching and the three of them knew their identities.

“Sir, master Fu Manchu invites you to dine.”

“I can’t refuse the king’s invitation. Furlock, bring the cub along and let’s go pay our respects to the king of the East End.”

Moriarty said as he stood up.

Certainly not because he feared the werewolf girl could bite him again, he entrusted her to Furlock.