The two left Baker Street and stood by the roadside waiting for a carriage.
"I still think what we're doing carries quite a bit of risk," Russell said, hands in his pockets, feeling the cold wind against his face. "And it's freezing."
"Once we catch Billson, you can rest by the fireplace until you die of warmth."
Charlotte's voice was muffled, her face almost buried in her collar.
"Besides, we have to go right now."
"Why?"
"In this awful weather, even you wouldn't want to go outside. Do you really think he'll be running around?"
Charlotte countered with a question.
"Even so, we haven't prepared anything."
There was a faint trace of helplessness in Russell's voice.
"On top of that, he has the home-field advantage. He might even have weapons—maybe even a gun."
"And he's a veteran himself. The two of us are…"
"I brought my cane."
Charlotte cut him off and opened her coat to show Russell the cane tucked inside her inner pocket, folded up.
"I don't think you have the skill to deflect bullets with a cane. What do you think?"
Russell sighed.
"Even if you brought a weapon, the difference in build and strength is something you can never overcome."
"So I still have you, don't I?"
Charlotte suddenly looked up at him.
Under the streetlights of the London night, her gray-blue eyes shone with particular brightness.
Like two stars twinkling in the darkness, they held an undeniable—rather, overwhelming—trust.
Russell was surprised by this illogical answer.
"Aren't you my assistant?"
Charlotte asked again, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"If you're here with me, what do I have to worry about?"
"I…" Russell was at a loss for words for a moment, then finally let out a helpless sigh. "Fine. If that's what you say."
While they were chatting, an empty carriage happened to pass by the street corner.
"Let's go."
Charlotte waved first, and the carriage stopped right in front of her.
Russell followed her into the carriage.
"Where are you two headed?"
The driver asked.
"Clement Street."
"Yes, please have a seat."
The carriage slowly began to move, carrying the two into the interplay of light and shadow woven by gas lamps and night.
The interior of the vehicle was very quiet.
Charlotte leaned against the window, quietly watching the bustling city noise flow by outside, as if thinking about their next move.
Russell sat across from her, arms crossed, eyes closed, seemingly trying to predict what would happen next.
In truth, he wasn't worried about Charlotte getting hurt.
The worst-case scenario would be Moriarty's true identity being exposed, but even that would be better than Charlotte getting injured.
It was just a false name. If deleted, it would disappear.
The real trouble was how to face her again once his true identity was revealed.
That was why he hadn't wanted to leave so suddenly.
Please take at least a day—or even half a day—to prepare.
At the very least, that would give us time to launch a night raid, subdue Billson first, and then feed his head to Charlotte.
Thinking that, Russell couldn't help but furrow his brows.
He had sensed that Charlotte was acting differently today.
She herself hadn't shown anything outwardly, but those subtle emotional fluctuations hadn't escaped Russell's notice.
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
Charlotte's voice suddenly broke the silence inside the carriage.
Hearing this, Russell opened his eyes, looked at her, and teased, "Isn't it because you were worried I'd interfere with your thoughts about the case?"
"There's no need to think about this case anymore."
Charlotte shifted her gaze from the window to Russell's face.
"What we need to think about now is how we're going to act from here on."
"How do we capture Billson without him noticing?"
"Direct confrontation… that definitely won't work."
Russell thought for a moment before speaking.
"Billson is a veteran with military experience, so his vigilance is definitely much higher than an ordinary person's."
"If we make even the slightest sound that raises his suspicion, he'll probably go on high alert immediately."
"I'm glad you're still sane."
Charlotte nodded.
"Therefore, we'll probably need to sneak in."
"How do we sneak in?"
Russell raised one eyebrow.
"I've been to that house before, and I roughly remember the layout."
Charlotte said.
"It's a three-story building with a basement and a small garden."
"The main entrance is sealed, so we absolutely can't use it. We also have to avoid the police patrols.
The windows… he's probably sealed them completely. And breaking in through a window would definitely cause a huge commotion."
After she finished speaking, she fell silent for a moment.
"Then it looks like we'll have to go through the garden… I've never been to the garden, so I don't know the way."
Russell listened quietly, and a map of Hannigan's mansion surfaced in his mind.
"There was indeed a back door in the garden—Billson had probably snuck in through there."
"The garden is nice, I think."
He answered cooperatively.
"Reason?"
Charlotte looked at him.
"The garden is spacious enough and has plenty of plants, so it's convenient for sneaking around."
Russell said.
"Besides, we already know for sure that Hannigan's mansion has a back door."
If the goal is to conceal the truth, that back door is usually installed in the garden.
Hearing this, Charlotte nodded and accepted the explanation.
"Let's start with the garden."
She paused for a moment, then looked up at Russell as if remembering something. A complicated expression appeared in her eyes.
"Hello."
"Hmm?"
"Just in case, I should say this—this time is different from what happened at Buckingham Palace."
Charlotte changed her tone to a serious one.
"So...?"
Russell tilted his head, not understanding what she meant.
"At Buckingham Palace, you were conspiring with Moriarty."
Charlotte explained.
"So he wouldn't hurt you, but this time is different, you know?"
Her expression grew serious as she spoke.
"Billson isn't Moriarty. He won't just hurt you—he might even kill you."
So…"
"Mind your own business, right?"
"I didn't think you'd be worried about me."
"Who's worried about you?"
Charlotte immediately retorted, then turned her face toward the window.
"If something happens to you, I still have no idea how I'd explain it to Mrs. Hudson."
"I understand what you're saying."
Russell looked at her stubborn back and couldn't help but smile.
"If there's a problem, I'll be the first to run."
"That's good."
Charlotte pouted. "Don't forget to run fast."
"I know."
Russell answered.
…
…
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