"Mr. Moriarty!" Louise's eyes widened in shock.
"You really came…!"
"I never break my promises, Your Highness." Russell smiled.
Seeing the familiar figure, Louise suddenly remembered something and asked, "By the way, how is Mr. Watson? Is he alright?"
At those words, Russell's lips twisted slightly beneath his mask. "Rest assured, Your Highness. He is fine."
"Are you worried about him?"
"He's a very kind person who always looks out for me," Louise nodded. "He's like an older brother to me… so please don't hurt him."
"If you say that, he would be overjoyed," Russell replied with a smile. "Don't worry. He's just a little tired, so let him rest for a while. I'll take care of you in the meantime."
"Really?"
"Of course. I don't enjoy hurting others. You should know that."
As he spoke, Russell leaped down from the windowsill, entered the room, and walked toward the storage cabinet. "As written in the letter, I've come to return the item. I also repaired the music box."
"Is it the real one?" Louise looked at Russell with an expression of disbelief.
"It's the genuine article—the real deal." Russell gave a light nod. "I've already hidden it in your room."
"When? Where?"
"It's right there."
Just as Russell began walking toward the locker to reveal the mystery to Louise, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the door. The door burst open violently, and Charlotte appeared in the doorway.
"Moriarty!" Charlotte stood at the entrance, pointing the muzzle of her gun straight at Russell. "Stay away from the princess."
Seeing Charlotte appear, Russell instinctively clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Good evening, famous detective."
He turned around and quietly bowed his head to the girl standing in the doorway. "I'm not some vicious criminal, am I? Was it really necessary to point a gun at me?"
Charlotte ignored his teasing, quickly scanned the room, and finally turned her gaze to the unharmed Louise standing nearby. "Your Highness, please stay behind me."
Charlotte spoke while keeping her gun raised. However, even when faced with what appeared to be a threatening pistol, Russell showed no sign of panic. He chuckled softly and took a step forward.
"Don't move," Charlotte warned, her finger on the trigger. "Unless you want your head to explode."
"My lady, I believe your gun is out of bullets."
Russell said this while staring intently at Charlotte's expression, then took another step forward.
Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, a frown creased Charlotte's brow.
Indeed.
Russell's smile deepened. He watched as Louise was escorted away by other guards, then slowly turned toward Charlotte. "It seems my guess was correct. In other words, you have no intention of hurting me, do you?"
"That depends on your next answer and your performance." Charlotte spoke in a cold voice. "Where is he?"
"Who?"
"Russell."
"Ah, him?" Russell suddenly pretended to realize something and said, "Want to guess?"
Charlotte's eyes instantly turned icy. Under Russell's sharp gaze, she pulled a bullet from her pocket and, with lightning speed, loaded it into the magazine before aiming the gun at him again.
"I'll ask one more time. Where is Russell?"
"He's at Buckingham Palace, right?" Russell maintained a calm, confident demeanor. "Blank rounds are only useful for scaring people who don't know any better, my lady."
Hearing this, Charlotte's gaze toward Russell grew even more wary and hostile. This man has extremely sharp observational skills.
"Bang!"
She pulled the trigger toward empty space, and a blank round fired. Then she held up a bright yellow bullet with a live tip and loaded it.
"This is your last chance, Moriarty." Charlotte aimed her gun.
"Where is he?"
But the answer she received was just as unpleasant as before.
"Guess?"
Even faster than her action, Russell received a system notification.
[Hatred from Charlotte Holmes, Malice Points +200]
"Bang!"
Charlotte pulled the trigger without hesitation. Russell reacted instantly. The bullet whistled past right beside him and embedded itself in the expensive wall. Charlotte had not aimed at Russell's head but at his arm; however, Russell easily dodged the shot.
"I thought you were going to shoot me in the head." Russell said, but Charlotte did not reply.
After firing her only bullet, she threw the weapon at Russell, leaped forward, and drew a black cane from beneath her trench coat. She swung it in a sharp arc aimed at Russell's lower body.
The series of movements was fluid, fast, and captivating, filled with undisguised ruthlessness. This reaction was even more oppressive than when he had first fought Mary. It was only natural that the system would need to upgrade the combat system.
Russell dodged without hesitation, using his natural agility to slip behind Charlotte. "I don't really like messing up other people's rooms, so shall we take this fight outside?"
He stood in the middle of the corridor, beckoned to Charlotte, and a similar cane appeared in his other hand. "If you can beat me, maybe you'll find out where Mr. Russell is."
"Then you'd better pray you still have the strength to talk by then."
Charlotte twirled her cane in her hand and then thrust it toward Russell. The moment she finished speaking, the girl's cane drew a sharp arc, its tip swinging straight down toward Russell's throat.
Russell used his cane to parry the attack and sidestepped. The two black canes clashed in mid-air with a dull thud.
"Not bad." Russell took a step back, creating some distance, and commented in a slightly relaxed tone. "I've always thought that Bartitsu exercises were like aerobics."
"Aerobics alone are enough to handle you."
Charlotte gave him no time to catch his breath. Her attacks came like a whirlwind—merciless and unstoppable. In her hands, the cane moved as if alive, striking, thrusting, and swinging with precise, ferocious force. Every blow targeted Russell's vital points.
Russell never initiated an attack; he simply responded to each of her moves. On one hand, he did not want to hurt Charlotte. On the other, she was far more troublesome than he had imagined. She really knows what she's doing.
"Your skills aren't as good as I imagined," Charlotte said, even while exchanging blows. "The people on Fleet Street seem to have overly deified you."
"Your temperament is worse than I imagined." Russell delivered a wide-arcing strike, then jumped backward to create distance. "Even the most famous detective prefers to solve problems with brute force."
"This is the most effective way to deal with liars who refuse to tell the truth."
Charlotte pressed the attack again, and Russell countered her movements. The two clashed with flashing canes in the empty corridor, momentarily locked in an even fight.
After another exchange, they both retreated and temporarily put some distance between them.
"Where is Russell?"
"Don't worry, he's safely sound asleep right now." Russell said. "Of course, if you delay any longer, I can't guarantee he won't catch a cold."
Hearing this, Charlotte let out a faint sigh of relief and raised her weapon again.
At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor, growing louder as they approached. Mycroft had finally arrived, accompanied by a fully armed group of guards.
"I thought this was going to be a one-on-one fight." Russell turned toward Mycroft and gave a light bow. "Good evening, Mr. Mycroft. Thank you for your cooperation during the previous event."
…
…
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