Professor Moriarty Wants to Retire.

“How was your village tour? Did you enjoy it?”

The fisherman greeted Moriarty, who had returned home, with a kind smile. However, his appearance made it look more creepy than kind.

“Not really. The residents weren’t friendly. They seemed hostile to outsiders.”

“Ah… right. Innsmouth people fear unfamiliar faces. We’ve rarely had good experiences with outsiders coming to our village.”

Whether the responsibility lies on one side or the other, it’s common for people in closed societies to be exclusive towards outsiders.

“But they’re all good-hearted people, so don’t be too afraid. If you approach them slowly, they’ll open up to you.”

“…”

To trust people who exude an atmosphere that seems capable of pickling something and then some, is that even a sensible thing to say?

“I understand.”

Sensing that voicing his true thoughts might endanger his life, Moriarty nodded while suppressing his inner feelings.

“By the way… there’s one thing I’d like to ask.”

“Ask anything you’d like.”

“Near the tavern—”

Pausing mid-sentence, Moriarty thought for a moment.

Should he tell this fisherman about the old drunkard? Can he really trust this fisherman?

The fisherman’s face was similar to the other Innsmouth residents, except for the drunkard. A face that looked more like a frog or fish than a human, appearing both stupid and eerie.

Judging by his appearance and his attitude toward defending the residents, the fisherman clearly had close relationships with the other Innsmouth residents. People in such small villages tend to have strong bonds.

Thus, Moriarty judged that if he misspoke, it was obvious that his words would spread instantly among the residents. So, he needed to be careful in his choice of words.

“…There was an old man collapsed drunk.”

However, Moriarty ultimately chose to bring up the drunkard as a topic.

To gather information, one needs to take risks, even if the drunkard suffers some harm because of it. Honestly, Moriarty had no reason to care about the future of an old man he’d never met before.

“….Did that old man perhaps mutter any useless nonsense?”

The atmosphere of the old fisherman, who had been acting disgustingly kind and affectionate, changed instantly.

A sharp gaze as if he might strangle Moriarty at any moment.

“His speech was slurred, so I couldn’t understand. I just mentioned it because it seemed no one was looking after the old man, and I was concerned.”

“…I see.”

The fisherman, glaring at Moriarty with suspicious eyes, smiled again – an even uglier smile than before – and answered.

“That old man’s name is Zadok Allen. He’s a well-known drunkard in Innsmouth. In other words, he’s a pitiful bum who can’t even take care of himself after drinking for days.”

Moriarty could clearly feel his ill feelings towards the drunkard from each word of the fisherman.

“Every word he says is nonsense, just nonsense. He’s a bad old man who likes to scare people. Never get close to him. Don’t believe anything that old man says.”

“….Hmm.”

If what the fisherman says is true, the drunkard, Zadok Allen, is certainly an unreliable person. He had indeed shown similar behavior in front of Moriarty.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

But Moriarty didn’t believe the fisherman’s words at face value. There’s nothing scarier than a community acting with one heart and mind.

“By the way, aren’t you hungry? The day’s getting late. Let’s have dinner. Wait a moment. Old woman!!”

Moriarty carefully watched the back of the fisherman as he called for his spouse and headed towards the kitchen.

“…Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered the fisherman’s spouse, or is it just my imagination?”

Who knows?

Thinking about it, it was strange.

Moriarty had never seen the fisherman’s spouse in this house.

Of course, there’s a possibility they didn’t meet by chance, but the fisherman’s house wasn’t that big and didn’t have many rooms. The modest kitchen was even visible from the living room.

Moreover, while he had heard the fisherman calling for his spouse, he had never heard a reply. Yet the fisherman acted as if he could hear his spouse’s voice.

“Dear, we have a precious guest. How can we serve what we usually eat? We should at least serve some meat. There isn’t any? Oh my…”

…Just like that.

“Fish… that damn fish. We have more than enough rotten fish, so why are you being stingy about it? Dear. You shouldn’t do that.”

Watching the old man staring into empty space with hollow eyes as if someone was there, Moriarty thought it was like a puppet show.

Given his excessively kind attitude, he had thought from the beginning that the man wasn’t in his right mind, but seeing such a blatant display of insanity made him feel strange.

“Here, it’s not much, but eat plenty.”

“…”

Despite his madman-like behavior, the food the fisherman prepared looked better than expected.

But it was only that.

Should it be called fish porridge or stew? In many ways, it wasn’t something he wanted to put in his mouth, especially for Moriarty, a connoisseur.

“…..”

But Moriarty’s stomach, which had been empty since boarding the passenger ship, demanded that its owner chew even weeds growing on the road if nothing else.

Moreover, given that the situation was such that it wouldn’t be strange if the smiling fisherman stabbed him with the kitchen knife in his hand at any moment, Moriarty finally put a spoonful of something between liquid and solid into his mouth.

“It’s not bad.”

The taste wasn’t as bad as expected. At least not as bad as expected.

It was less fishy than he thought, and the seasoning was reasonably appropriate. He could never say it tasted good, but if he had to eat it, it was edible.

Due to the urging of his long-starved stomach, Moriarty emptied the bowl faster than usual.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“I’m glad you liked it. I was worried about what to do if you didn’t eat.”

And just as he was about to get up from his seat, Moriarty remembered a rule that had been obscured by the confusing situation and biological instinct.

The rule he had established while living under constant threat of assassination in London: never eat food served by others.

“…If I hadn’t eaten, what were you planning to—”

Just as he was about to question the fisherman’s true intentions at his chilling voice, Moriarty’s gaze plummeted downward.

His weakened legs had collapsed, unable to support his body.

“We’ve been short on sacrifices to offer to the Y’ha-nthlei guests because outsiders have stopped coming for a while.”

It was a mistake. A mistake so great it would tarnish the name of James Moriarty.

But the event had already occurred, and the weakened Moriarty had no strength to fend off the old fisherman.

“But… with such a pretty sacrifice…”

The disgusting touch of the fisherman caressing his cheek was the last thing he felt.

“They will surely be pleased, right? I’m sure they will.”

Moriarty lost consciousness.

――

Long ago, Innsmouth was on the brink of collapse.

Due to the war with England, ships had sunk, and most of the sailors had died, leading to a complete severance of sea routes.

The only one who maintained a sea route to the Polynesian islands was Captain Obed Marsh and his fleet.

The town was in such a precarious state that it had essentially staked its fate on Captain Obed’s trading company alone, and Captain Obed needed to find some way forward to save the town.

So, one day, when the captain led his fleet towards the Polynesian islands as usual, he witnessed a tribe and their culture on one of them.

They obtained gold and treasures in exchange for offering sacrifices to terrifying creatures that emerged from the sea, looking like a mix of humans, fish, and amphibians.

Captain Obed learned from the tribespeople about the identity of these hideous creatures called the Deep Ones and how to obtain vast wealth, and upon returning to Innsmouth, he implemented it exactly.

The Deep Ones demanded two main things from Innsmouth.

First, offer living sacrifices.

And second…

Splash—!!!

“Ugh—cough…”

Moriarty’s eyes opened to the coldness of seawater splashing on his face and the stinging saltiness.

“Cough… cough..”

“You’re awake.”

An unfamiliar voice reached his ears as he coughed from the water entering his mouth and nose.

“Oh, Deep One, here is a new sacrifice. How is it?”

Raising his head at that voice, Moriarty saw.

How should one describe the appearance of that being?

At first glance, it looked like a fish and, from another angle, like a frog. But its skeleton seemed similar to a human’s.

Despite being a mix of amphibian and fish, it stood on two legs and had a straight spine like a human. Perhaps it was even closer to humans than primates like monkeys, despite the fact that no trace of humanity could be found in any part of its body.

“Oh? Ah, I see.”

Perhaps this was the final form that Innsmouth residents would reach. Or conversely, maybe the Innsmouth residents had this being’s blood flowing in them.

“I understand.”

Unlike Moriarty, the old man wearing something like priestly robes seemed to understand the being’s words. With an expression of deep emotion, like a cult leader greeting their god or a believer meeting their deity, he raised the knife—

“The Deep One says it will take this sacrifice as a bride!!!”

“…..”

Wait, what did he say?