Professor Moriarty Wants to Retire.

“…Hmm…”

It was an unusual proposal, or rather, request. Quite unusual for Moriarty.

What does friendship mean to James Moriarty?

Many people wanted to be his friend. He actually had many friends.

A renowned scholar recognized in academic circles. It’s impossible for such a scholar not to have connections.

Letters from people all over Europe who were impressed by his representative work, “The Dynamics of an Asteroid,” are still piled up in his London mansion, indicating his extraordinary fame and recognition.

Even if one completely excludes his influence in the underworld and considers only his reputation as a scholar, he was known throughout Europe. How much more so for those with even a slight inkling of his true nature?

Moriarty’s extraordinary mind was a goose that laid golden eggs, and he was a master at disguising illegal profits as legal ones.

The King Midas of the 19th century, turning everything he touched into gold. How could insects not be attracted to a flower overflowing with honey?

Both as a scholar and as a criminal consultant, he had many friends. However…

“The friend you speak of and the friend I think of… seem to be a bit different.”

Whether it had the same meaning as the friend Lavinia was talking about was something to consider.

For Moriarty, a friend was a relationship formed because of value.

It’s worth forming a connection under the pretext of friendship, whether that be individual ability, power, wealth, or something else.

It’s just prettily wrapped up in the word ‘value.’ Still, to put it bluntly, it means a relationship of mutual exploitation.

Of course, there were no embarrassing words like friendship in that relationship.

“I don’t know what friend means to you, but my values are a bit twisted compared to ordinary people.”

Is ‘twisted’ the right expression? Moriarty wondered. His values were formed from the beginning—no, described that way by the author.

He was a person who couldn’t feel even a hint of fondness, let alone friendship, for others. Such emotions didn’t suit him, who was supposed to be the ultimate villain.

He couldn’t feel fondness even for the loyal Moran or his numerous other subordinates and collaborators.

There was only one exception.

For the only one who could view the world from the same eye level as him, he did feel some emotion, though he wasn’t sure if it was love or what.

“As someone who loved his enemy more than his friends, I really can’t understand what meaning this ‘friend’ thing has.”

Ironically, that single exception was neither a subordinate nor a friend, but his arch-nemesis.

“Can you prove your value to me? Your value as a friend?”

Moriarty, who had been buried in this value system all his life and couldn’t escape it, measured even this ignorant girl by his own value system, even though he knew that such behavior from himself was strange.

“…Yes, I’ll prove it..!! I’ll definitely prove my value…!!”

“…”

Watching Lavinia nod and make a promise despite clearly not understanding his words properly, Moriarty thought:

“Well then, I’ll be in your care for a while.”

That the friendship this girl desires will probably never come to be.

――

“Th-This is… the library..!!”

“Hmm…”

Following Lavinia’s guidance, Moriarty explored various parts of the Whateley family mansion.

If asked about his impressions of the exploration, or if he noticed anything suspicious while exploring…

“…It might be rude to say, but you manage to live in a place like this, don’t you?”

“Wh-What?”

I wouldn’t want to live in a place like this even if I died. There are too many suspicious points – that would be Moriarty’s opinion.

“Do you usually ventilate this place?”

First of all, the air is too dirty.

Even Moriarty, an Englishman and a London citizen who was practically pickled in smog, was shocked by how severe the air inside the mansion was.

“Dust, humidity, body odor. Even an unknown scent… It seems suffocating to breathe.”

“I-It’s not that suffocating… Cough, cough!!”

Moriarty had a premonition that staying here for just a week, no, even a single day, would cause serious problems to one’s respiratory system.

It might be understandable if this place were a city center like London, where the atmosphere is hazy and acrid all day from factory emissions. But the scenery of Dunwich that he glimpsed when briefly drawing back the curtains was a perfect countryside without a trace of industrialization.

“Of course, with you being an albino patient, it would be difficult to open windows and draw curtains during the day, but couldn’t you do it at night instead of during the day? If you don’t ventilate continuously, you might develop another serious illness.”

“Cough, th-thank you for your concern. But, um, my father… he hates sunlight…”

Moriarty’s advice was reasonable. However, it didn’t have much meaning when the reason for keeping the mansion’s windows closed and curtains drawn all day was not because of Lavinia but because of Lavinia’s father.

“Does your father have the same condition as you?”

Albinism is a genetic disorder. If a child is born with albinism, it means there’s a possibility that the parents, or grandparents or relatives above them, might also suffer from albinism.

“No, he just… h-hates sunlight…”

“…”

…However, the reason Lavinia’s father avoided sunlight was neither because of his child’s condition nor his own. It was just a personal preference.

“D-Did I say something wrong?”

The pathetic behavior of not even ventilating due to simply disliking sunlight rather than suffering from a genetic disorder. Seeing Moriarty’s expression turn cold at those words, Lavinia became flustered, thinking that gaze was directed at her.

“B-But I go out every night to breathe clean air, so it’s o-okay!!”

“How can that be okay?”

“I… I’m telling the truth… I-I can prove it! Let’s go out together!”

Just as Moriarty’s evaluation of Lavinia’s father, whom he hadn’t even seen yet, was about to drop in real-time to that of an idiot who couldn’t even act his age, let alone fulfill parental duties and responsibilities, Lavinia began to pull his wrist.

“…”

In fact, Moriarty had enough strength to shake off Lavinia’s hand. He had avoided a direct confrontation in Innsmouth because the opponent was an unknown life form, a Deep One.

The current Moriarty had enough strength to easily overpower an ordinary adult male. Of course, this means he had more than enough strength to shake off the touch of a peer, especially a physically weak girl.

“Well, let’s do that then.”

But Moriarty chose to be docilely led out by Lavinia.

Because the air in the mansion was so suffocating that it made him miss even London’s smog.

“By the way, Miss Whateley, are you sure it’s not daytime–”

The door flung open, but fortunately, Lavinia didn’t scream like a vampire and started burning up.

“…Ah.”

“Be careful next time. In such a dark place, one’s sense of time can get distorted.”

Advising Lavinia, who had frozen with a foolish expression, Moriarty took a deep breath of the outside air.

Excellent.

――

“This is that train station! N-Now… trains don’t run through here anymore…”

Even though the space had changed from inside the mansion to outside, Lavinia’s neighborhood tour continued.

“Here… um… er, what’s your… name?”

“Call me Moriarty.”

“Ah, yes, M-Ms. Moriarty. I found you here, Ms. Moriarty. I approached you as you were stumbling along from over there…”

As the mansion’s interior was introduced, Lavinia’s appearance was different from when Moriarty first opened his eyes and faced her.

An excited mood, joy, and pleasure are clearly visible on the outside.

As if moved by making a friend for the first time, a rosy blush refused to leave Lavinia’s pale cheeks.

Even though he hadn’t yet agreed to be friends.

And probably never will. There won’t be a time when Moriarty and Lavinia become friends.

There are too many differences between an old Englishman and a naive girl from an American backwater town. How could an old man who can’t even remember his childhood look at things from the same eye level as a young girl?

“…At night, I never run into villagers, so I never had anyone to talk to… Hehehe, somehow… this is fun. So this is how enjoyable conversation can be…”

At least, that’s what Moriarty himself thought.

“M-Maybe… from now on–”

Thwack―

“―Kyaa!!??”

Lavinia’s head, about to make a confession of sorts with a broad smile, suddenly turned sideways.

“Ah, aah…”

A stone that had flown from somewhere had struck her head.

“It hurts…”

“…”

As Moriarty watched Lavinia crouching down, holding her bleeding head, he turned his gaze towards the direction the stone had come from. There…

“Didn’t I tell you? I said that witch comes out every night!”

There was a gang that looked clearly delinquent. A gang looking this way with triumphant faces.

Who was it that said children are pure?

There’s no doubt about that statement. Because being pure doesn’t necessarily mean being good.

Because they are pure, they are easily influenced and can be cruel.

That pure malice was directed at Lavinia.

“…Hmm.”

Moriarty pondered for a moment.

Should he help Lavinia, or should he just observe?

“M-Ms. Moriarty… quickly, run away… Otherwise, you too…”

Moriarty had no particular reason to help Lavinia. It’s not like they had any special connection. As a weak girl, Lavinia didn’t have any particular value for him to exploit.

“Who’s that kid next to her?”

“Aren’t they together? Their skin is equally white. And they’re both small.”

However.

“Young ones these days have no manners.”

Is there really any need to run away?