The Everlasting Society and the Living Holmes

Scarcely had he settled at the dining table when the aroma of pan-fried bacon and buttered bread wafted from the plate before him.

Taking a delicate bite, Yodel gave a resounding thumbs-up to Yali, her face alight with eager anticipation.

As a shy smile bloomed on her face, he proceeded to devour the entire meal.

With enhanced ingredients and seasonings, Yali’s culinary artistry had found its true canvas.

No longer would Yodel be subjected to those mere sustenance meals of old!

Recalling his past life, where he would return from his part-time job to an empty rented room, only to face the chore of cooking and housework, this life of being waited on hand and foot was nothing short of paradise for Yodel.

Naturally, all this comfort was owed to Yali, who had seemingly mastered every domestic skill imaginable.

‘Still, I can’t let her be solely confined to housework,’ Yodel mused.

‘Her brother had sheltered her far too much, turning a freshly adult girl into a mere homemaker.

The consequence was that she couldn’t survive without him.

I absolutely cannot perpetuate such an error.

Hmm… I must encourage her to explore the outside world, to truly learn independent living.’

Yodel felt as if he were caught in a peculiar simulation game, where others nurtured daughters, he was nurturing his younger sister.

A sharp knock echoed at the door, shattering the serene morning meal shared by the siblings.

Yodel opened the door to reveal a tall, imposing man, who was none other than Lauren’s deputy, Collins.

“You actually reside in such a place?” Collins inquired, his gaze flickering to the peeling plaster on the walls and the faint cobwebs clinging to the ceiling.

“I mean no disrespect, but I confess, I am quite surprised.”

“A house too grand, too empty, can leave one feeling unsettled,” Yodel replied.

“A smaller dwelling, I find, offers more warmth.

Would you care to step inside for a moment?”

Collins shook his head gently.

“I shan’t intrude.

My purpose in coming was to inform you that the investigation into the Everlasting Society has yielded some promising leads.

You may wish to visit the agency at your convenience.”

“Oh? Such remarkable efficiency.

Might I proceed to the agency at once?”

Collins, admiring Yodel’s decisive and unhesitating manner, offered an affirmative reply:

“Certainly.

The agency’s carriage awaits downstairs.

If you have no objections, you are welcome to accompany me back.”

“I appreciate the trouble.”

After bidding Yali farewell, Yodel and Collins hastened back to the Mingketon Detective Agency.

Within the reception room, Lauren spread out stacks of meticulously categorized documents and photographs before Yodel.

“Thanks to the intelligence you procured from Ms. Yelica Cooper, our investigation has achieved a breakthrough.

The leads are too numerous and disparate, so I shall simply highlight the crucial points.

Firstly, through extensive inquiries conducted by our plainclothes detectives and informants, we have largely ascertained that the Everlasting Society’s primary den lies within the Westing District of Outer Landon, a sprawling area that houses Landon’s largest slum.

There, the activities of the Everlasting cultists appear to be notably more frequent.

Secondly, building upon the preceding intelligence, one of our detectives observed a significant surge in demand within the Westing District’s black market for a medicinal herb known as ‘Soul-Swapping Grass.’

The buyers are strongly suspected of having ties to the Everlasting Society.

And lastly…” Lauren paused, his voice deepening with a profound gravity.

“The number of missing persons and fatalities within the Westing District has seen a disturbing increase.

This conclusion, reached through the collaborative research of multiple analytical experts with the invaluable assistance of Ms. Yelica Cooper, possesses a very high degree of credibility.”

“Missing persons… can a definitive link to the Everlasting Society be established?”

Lauren shook his head.

“Regrettably, no, we cannot confirm it.

Population records within the slums are inherently disorganized, and the area itself is a hotbed for various death-related incidents.

Simply detecting an abnormal number of disappearances within such a context is already a considerable feat.”

“Is that the case? It appears I shall have to make a personal visit, then.”

“You, personally?

With all due respect, sir, we have already mobilized dozens of seasoned detectives and informants, yet the investigative work remains exceedingly arduous.

I fear your individual presence may not significantly advance the inquiry.”

Yodel merely smiled.

For detectives, no matter how profound their powers of observation, locating a culprit amidst the dense populace of the slums was akin to searching for a needle in a boundless haystack.

But he was different; he possessed a distinct advantage.

‘No matter how expertly you conceal yourself, can you truly hide the achievements emblazoned above your head?’

‘Given the emergence of abnormal fatalities in the Westing District, it would be prudent to seek out individuals whose death and assist tallies were conspicuously out of the ordinary.’

Lauren observed Yodel’s self-assured smile, and a brow quirked in curiosity.

“You appear remarkably confident, Mr. Holmes.”

Yodel accepted the lighthearted jest, while marveling that a figure like Sherlock Holmes existed even in this world.

“I, too, hold a great fondness for that illustrious detective, though he is merely a character of fiction.”

“What are you saying?

A character of fiction?

Mr. Holmes is a living, breathing man!”

“Ah?”

Even after departing the agency, Yodel remained utterly engrossed in the startling revelation that Sherlock Holmes was a flesh-and-blood individual in this reality.

This realization struck him with force.

While this world harbored numerous parallels to his previous one, such as Carolingian to France, or the Iron Cross to Germany, significant disparities persisted in certain subtle details.

As his thoughts drifted to the intricate correspondences between the two worlds, Yodel suddenly became aware of a crucial detail he had consistently overlooked.

The First World War.

Would that cataclysm, which claimed ten million lives, repeat itself in this world?

Should a global war indeed erupt, to what unimaginable extent would the God of Death’s workload skyrocket?

Yodel felt a pang of genuine concern for her, deep within his heart.

Yet, dwelling on such matters now seemed utterly futile, for if a world war were truly to ignite, it was beyond his power to prevent it.

For now, his priority remained completing his current mission and bolstering his own capabilities.

When that inevitable day arrived, he could, at the very least, help alleviate some of the God of Death’s burden, thereby reducing the occurrence of tragedies akin to Yali’s brother’s fate.

****

After Yodel’s departure, Lauren and Collins lingered in the reception room of the detective agency.

Lauren lit a cigar.

“Collins, what is your assessment of Yodel Finn?”

Collins closed his eyes, pondering for a moment, before delivering a precise, measured reply:

“He is a man of profound contradictions, or perhaps, one shrouded in myriad enigmas.

His perceptiveness is extraordinarily acute.

During our initial encounter, he discerned at a glance that we had once been comrades-in-arms.

Rationality and composure form his fundamental character, yet he is neither aloof nor uninteresting.”

“Rationality and composure, you say?

I concur.

He is either a madman, or he possesses a formidable ace up his sleeve, an ace potent enough to render him impervious to any threat.

This would explain his perpetual state of complete relaxation, his effortless mastery over every situation.”

“Indeed.

Yet, curiously, while he possesses exceptional logical prowess and comprehension, he exhibits a profound ignorance regarding certain matters of common knowledge.

He carries himself with the pride and self-assurance characteristic of the upper echelons of society, yet he disdains to align himself with them.”

“Ignorant in common knowledge, yet possessing an extraordinarily keen deductive intellect,” Lauren chuckled, a hint of playful exasperation in his voice, “He is, quite simply, a veritable reincarnation of Holmes.”

He extinguished his cigar in the ashtray.

A brief silence settled over the reception room.

“Do you believe his personal investigation this time will yield any significant clues?” Lauren inquired once more.

Collins shook his head.

“From a purely rational standpoint, it is improbable that Yodel will achieve substantial progress.

However brilliant a detective may be, they are, after all, only human, and the capabilities of any single individual are ultimately finite.”

“That is indeed a judgment grounded in rationality, aligning perfectly with my own thoughts, save for one thing…”

Lauren’s pale blue eyes were fixed intently on the tabletop, his thoughts seemingly lost in contemplation.