"Mr. Silas, you're awake?"
The nurse who had been carefully watching Silas noticed the change in his expression.
Realizing he'd become normal, she said happily, "Dr. Chris said there was no hope of curing you, but look at you now!
You seem perfectly fine, don't you?"
Best if he gets better quickly, but keeps just a little lingering condition, so I'd be willing to quit my job to care for him full-time...
The young nurse thought hopefully as she helped remove the restraining straps.
With her assistance, Silas took off his mask and sat up comfortably.
Since he'd already summoned that tide anyway, he might as well take this opportunity to stay lucid a bit longer.
"Mr. Silas, your sister is currently receiving the doctor's recommendations.
Is there anything you'd like? Should I get you some water, or prepare something to eat?"
The young nurse asked eagerly.
"No need," Silas replied with a polite smile. "Could you get me a few recent newspapers? I'd like to catch up on the news."
His smile made the nurse across from him momentarily dazed.
Then, blushing, she nodded. "Of course! Please wait here for a moment!"
At the end of the asylum corridor was a newspaper corner, probably originally intended to let occasionally lucid patients catch up on recent news. But now its primary use was providing material for patients to tear up for entertainment.
Silas watched as the young nurse retrieved several relatively intact newspapers and walked back to hand them to him.
He thanked her, then paid her no more attention as he lowered his head to read, letting her admire his profile from the side.
The newspapers themselves weren't particularly interesting.
He was just killing time, waiting for Cecilia to finish her discussion with the doctor and come out.
Let's see... national affairs, royal scandals, gossip about theater stars...
He browsed through one without much interest, then picked up another called the Backlund Post.
"The Eleventh Murder Case! Cherwood Borough at a Loss!"
The headline proclaimed boldly.
The lead story in this paper was somewhat more interesting, detailing in depth the horrifying serial murders that had recently occurred in Backlund.
A serial killer was specifically targeting women in long skirts and had committed over a dozen cases yet remained at large.
Killing, consuming internal organs... clearly a Devil worship ritual.
Silas quickly reached this conclusion, and his heart stirred.
This seems like it could be a decent shepherding target...
The "Devil" pathway possessed many powerful abilities, and this was a cold-blooded, ruthless serial killer.
Shepherding someone like this wouldn't create any psychological burden.
The only thing to note was that official Beyonders were definitely investigating, and he might encounter them.
Thinking about it from another angle, this might actually be an opportunity.
Let this Devil and the official Beyonders exhaust each other, then he could swoop in and reap the benefits.
But then again, Backlund was the capital. Would the Beyonders here really be that easy to deal with?
Various thoughts churned through his mind.
He decided to shelve this plan for now, actively observe the situation, and wait for the right opportunity.
After finishing the headline, Silas continued flipping through.
The subsequent news wasn't very interesting, and the advertisements became increasingly numerous, ranging from shop promotions to company stock offerings and transfers to marriage and fertility requests... He gradually grew impatient, and his page-turning accelerated.
Why hasn't Cecilia come out yet?
As he thought this, he turned to pages seven or eight of the newspaper.
A somewhat familiar name suddenly jumped out at him.
"Sherlock Moriarty, private detective skilled in handling various matters, reasonable fees, strictly observes confidentiality, residing at 15 Minsk Street, Cherwood Borough."
Silas froze.
Sherlock Moriarty?
A private detective?
As if unable to believe it, he carefully read this advertisement again and again, confirming that the name and occupation were indeed what he thought they were.
What's going on here?
The transmigrator predecessor, Emperor Roselle, had also left behind many literary works in this world, plagiarizing countless classic novels from Silas's world.
But he had uniquely never plagiarized detective novels, probably because he hadn't been familiar with them in his previous life.
When it came to the most famous detective novels, none surpassed the Sherlock Holmes series.
It was so famous that the name itself had nearly become synonymous with detective.
The protagonist and greatest villain of that story were named Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty, respectively... precisely a combination of the given name and surname in this advertisement.
A combined name and the detective profession... could this really be such a coincidence?
Could it be that this was a transmigrator playing with references from Sherlock Holmes?
At this thought, Silas felt both excited and wary.
Excited because he might have encountered a fellow transmigrator.
Wary because he felt somewhat unable to control this situation.
He was currently in a semi-mad state, his sister was only Sequence 9, and at precisely this time, someone who was likely also a transmigrator had appeared.
The timing seemed too coincidental.
What if it's a trap aimed at me?
But there was also a strong possibility that this was indeed a fellow transmigrator.
If he went to meet them, he might be able to figure out the secret of his own transmigration, and maybe even find a way back...
After thinking for a moment, Silas suppressed this very tempting notion.
Even if he really wanted to find this person, he should wait until his condition improved before considering it.
Otherwise, if it turned out to be a trap, he'd become a fool walking right into the net.
In any case, the other party had already left an address. When the time came, he could track them down; they wouldn't be able to escape.
"Mr. Silas?"
The nurse noticed the change in his expression and asked with concern.
"Oh, oh, I'm fine. Excuse me, may I take a few of these newspapers with me?"
Silas came back to his senses and asked with a smile.
"Of course you can. If these newspapers stay here, they'll just be torn to shreds by the patients anyway."
She readily agreed.
"Thank you very much."
He stood up and folded the newspapers, stuffing them into the gap between the straps of his straitjacket.
"I'd like to go check on my sister. I don't know what the doctor has been telling her; it's been taking quite a while..."
He saw the nurse across from him smile and say something, but Silas's ears heard nothing.
A sharp ringing came through, drowning out all the sounds around him.
Someone was watching him from behind.
"Swish!"
Silas instinctively turned around and saw the figure of Ma'am M.
She still had that detestable appearance, smiling gently and damnably. Crazed patients passed through her body; she seemed to be merely a phantom frozen in Silas's vision.
What do you want now?
Silas looked at her coldly. There were quite a few people in the corridor; it wasn't convenient to immediately attack and kill her.
Just then, Silas saw Ma'am M smile gently and slowly raise her hand.
She pointed toward the end of the corridor.
"Ahhhhhhh!"
A terrified scream suddenly came from that direction.