I'm in Conan, I'm not a gangster

Chapter 758 It turns out he was high on drugs!

Professor Le Moriarty's collar was gripped tightly by Shiraishi E, the expensive silk fabric twisted and deformed under the brutal force, making it difficult for him to breathe.

He was in a rare state of bewilderment, and his mind even went blank for a brief moment.

Is this...is this really Sherlock Holmes?

The consulting detective known for his calm and rationality, who can defuse crises even under the threat of gunfire with precise logic and elegant words?

The one with whom he had engaged in countless intellectual battles, and who regarded each other as their only nemesis?
How could it have become so... so barbaric!
He started fighting without warning, showing absolutely no gentlemanly manners; he was like a thug who stormed out of the docks!

Chaotic thoughts raced through Moriarty's mind; he desperately needed a reasonable explanation to understand this illogical scene.

In a flash, a rumor circulating in some dark corners about the great detective's bad habits surfaced in his mind like a lifeline.

—That's it! Marijuana!

Holmes must have overdosed on marijuana!!

A knowing glint flashed in Moriarty's eyes.

That's right. Only when the drugs severely affect the brain can all these abnormalities be perfectly explained: the excessively excited mental state, the violent behavior that completely deviates from the path of logic, and the almost insane, uncontrollable light flashing in the eyes!

The once meticulous and precise Sherlock Holmes has now had his core completely disrupted by the drugs!

Once Moriarty accepted this premise, all his confusion was resolved.

At the same time, a more real sense of crisis instantly gripped Moriarty—a high-spirited, irrational Sherlock Holmes was extremely dangerous!
With a rational opponent, you can negotiate, maneuver, and use your wisdom and rhetoric.

But with a drug-controlled madman?
Any provocation could trigger reckless violence!

His meticulously planned conspiracy, his blueprint for a criminal empire, his pride as a "mathematician"... all of these seem incredibly fragile in the face of the fist of a mad detective.

Professor Moriarty, the "Napoleon of the criminal underworld" who wielded immense power in London's criminal underworld, was perfectly clear about one thing: a wise man doesn't fight a losing battle.

It's foolish to reason with a drug addict, especially when they are clearly beyond the limits of physical strength.

dignity?

If you're likely to get beaten up on the spot, you can put that aside for now.

With this in mind, Moriarty almost immediately switched strategies.

He quickly concealed any lingering astonishment and calculation in his eyes, striving to make his expression appear sincere and even carrying a perfectly appropriate hint of fear.

He raised his hands in a standard, harmless gesture of surrender, and his tone became unusually gentle, even somewhat soothing:

"OK! OK! No problem! Absolutely no problem!" He spoke quickly, trying to calm the other person's "frenzy" as soon as possible.
“Mr. Holmes, please calm down. I will tell you where Jack the Ripper is, I promise… Before that, could you… let me go? It’s really not convenient to talk like this.”

His gaze was carefully fixed on Shiraishi E's expression, his body as relaxed as possible to avoid any movement that could be misinterpreted as resistance, like a tamer calming a wild beast.

Seeing that this Napoleon of the criminal world was so "wise and righteous," Shiraishi E showed a very pleased and satisfied expression.

He nodded readily, decisively releasing his grip on the collar, and even elegantly smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed at the collar, saying in a light tone, "Of course, no problem... My dear nemesis, I am truly pleased that you are so sensible."

The collar suddenly disappeared, and Moriarty secretly breathed a sigh of relief as the cold air flowed smoothly into his lungs again.

He was at least certain of one thing—this “Sherlock Holmes” before him, though behaving erratically, seemed to still retain the most basic rationality to engage in exchanges of interests, and had not completely become a madman who only knew how to destroy.

He took a half step back, with an almost instinctive sense of restraint, carefully straightening his disheveled bow tie and collar until every wrinkle was smoothed out, restoring the dignified demeanor befitting a refined and composed mathematics professor.

After doing all this, he spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice regaining its usual calmness: "In fact, Jack the Ripper... is one of my adopted sons."

"Unfortunately, he's been a bit out of control lately and doesn't follow my orders as well as he used to. So, to be honest, I can't tell you exactly where he's hiding right now."

Shiraishi E's brows furrowed instantly, and the hint of "pleasure" in her eyes vanished without a trace.

With a flick of his wrist, an old-fashioned revolver, its design simple yet exuding a deadly aura, appeared in his hand as if by magic. Though the muzzle wasn't raised directly, its cold metallic gleam was enough to intimidate. "So..." Shiraishi's voice deepened, carrying an undisguised sense of danger, "Can I take that as you're wasting my time, toying with me, Professor Moriarty?"

Conan, watching from the side, twitched at the corner of his mouth, his heart filled with a helpless cry of disbelief.

This guy turned a perfectly good detective and suspense drama into a low-brow gangster crime drama!
From a battle of wits to a threat of gunfire, who could stand that?

Professor Moriarty is intelligent, but not stupid. He clearly understands the ancient Eastern proverb, "A wise man submits to circumstances," quite thoroughly!

Moriarty certainly didn't want to be shot dead on the spot by a Holmes who seemed to be high on drugs; that would be too humiliating and undignified a death.

He still has many grand plans to realize, and his criminal empire is in a critical period of expansion. How could it end in such an absurd way in this dirty alley?

So Moriarty abandoned any futile negotiation and offered a straightforward solution: "Although he has lost control, his long-standing habits are hard to erase. If I give him a 'killing order' in a specific way, he will still follow it."

He spoke at a steady pace, making sure every word was clear and unambiguous: "Tomorrow morning, I will have someone post a notice on the billboards near Whitechapel, in Istvêdo. It will say: 'Clean the opera house tonight. M's message to J...' Then, upon seeing this signal, he will begin his operation inside the opera house."

Upon hearing the concrete action plan, the coldness on Shiraishi's face dissipated. He nodded in satisfaction, deftly twirling the revolver between his fingers, but his tone still carried a warning: "Very good. I hope you haven't been playing me for fools."

"Otherwise... I'll have no choice but to go through all the trouble and personally go find 'trouble' for you. By then, I hope you can hide yourself well enough."

Upon hearing this, Moriarty gave a meaningful smile, as if to say that there was no need for reminders: "Rest assured, I always keep my word... May I ask, is there anything else you two wish to discuss?"

Shiraishi E turned to Conan beside her and asked in an extremely natural tone, "Watson, is there anything else? If not, we should go back to sleep."

For a fleeting moment, Conan did indeed have a rather fan-like thought—to ask this legendary master of crime for an autograph.

But he immediately dismissed the thought as soon as it came to mind.

He realized that the Moriarty before him was ultimately just a virtual character simulated by Noah's Ark. Even if he got the signature, it was just handwriting imitated by artificial intelligence, not from the real "Napoleon of the criminal world".

Thinking of this, he immediately lost all interest and shook his head vigorously, saying, "It's alright! ... Thank you, Professor, for your 'help'."

Upon hearing the "thank you," Moriarty couldn't help but laugh. As he stepped onto the carriage, he said with a touch of self-deprecation, "Under these circumstances, I probably have no choice but to 'help'!"

"However, tonight was not entirely fruitless. At least I had the privilege of witnessing another side of Mr. Holmes."

Shiraishi Eiya smiled, expertly twirling the revolver in her hand once more, her tone full of seduction: "What you've seen is perhaps only a very superficial side. How about... getting to know me more deeply? I promise, it will definitely bring you a huge 'surprise'."

Moriarty, standing on the carriage platform, shook his head decisively upon hearing this and politely declined, saying, "The price is too high, let's skip it... Well then, until we meet again, Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson."

After saying that, he gestured to the still-shaken driver to drive.

The luxurious carriage slowly started moving, rumbling into the misty depths of the alley.

As Shiraishi watched the carriage disappear into the distance, she suddenly nudged Conan beside her with her elbow and asked in a casual tone, as if discussing what to eat for dinner, "Hey, what do you think... if I shot him in the back right now, what would happen?"

Conan was startled by this sudden and extremely dangerous idea, and growled irritably, "Nothing will happen! At most, the gangsters of London—no, the entire British mafia—will go crazy and come after us for revenge!!"

"No, it's not that simple! Moriarty is ostensibly a military instructor, so the entire country's army and police might be relentlessly hunting us down!!"

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Shiraishi E was not frightened at all. Instead, her eyes lit up, and she stroked her chin with an expression of great interest: "Oh? This sounds...not bad at all! 'Sherlock Holmes vs. the entire British Empire'...This script sounds very interesting!"

When Conan saw that this guy was actually interested, he was terrified and quickly grabbed his arm tightly, warning him in a low voice, "Don't even think about it!!"

"If you really dare to do that, I guarantee Noah's Ark will immediately determine that we've seriously disrupted the game's balance, and then a cannonball will fall directly on our heads, 'BOOM!' and the game will be over, with nowhere to hide!!"

Upon hearing the keywords "Noah's Ark" and "naval guns," Shiraishi E's feverish mind finally calmed down.

This is ultimately just a virtual world; the power of life and death rests in the hands of that super artificial intelligence.

He sighed with some regret and said listlessly, "Well... he's lucky. Let's go, let's go back and catch up on some sleep. We still have to go to the opera house to catch that Ripper tomorrow."

Conan breathed a long sigh of relief when he saw that Shiraishi E had finally given up on that reckless idea, feeling utterly exhausted.

(End of this chapter)