168: Sherlock Holmes #1

Watching William Shakespeare dancing and gesticulating inside the glass wall, completely immersed in his own dramatic world, PD's mouth couldn't help but twitch.

How the hell did this look like a prisoner being brutally tortured?

This was clearly a web novel author locked in a dark room and forced to meet a deadline, yet still thoroughly enjoying himself!

"Hey, Shakespeare, old buddy."

PD tapped on the bulletproof glass, interrupting his impromptu speech. "What on earth is that mad professor forcing you to write by locking you in here?"

Hearing this question, Shakespeare's exaggerated expression instantly toned down a bit.

He leaned closer to the glass and whispered in a mysterious, dramatic cadence:

"Oh! That is a horrific experiment capable of desecrating history and legend! That devil, utilizing my trivial [Enchantment] ability, has forcibly kneaded broken urban legends that should have faded into nothingness into absurd scripts!"

"Then, utilizing the dense malice of this city, he forcibly stitches different 'Phantasms' together!"

Shakespeare clutched his hands to his heart, his eyes shining with a mixture of fanaticism and terror:

"The Headless Horseman paired with a bloodthirsty giant wolf! The Phantom of the Opera tainted with mad, poisonous blood! Oh, though it is a desecration, is it not also a marvelous tragedy that makes my inspiration overflow?!"

Hearing this, PD and the tens of thousands of viewers in the livestream finally came to a realization.

"No wonder that Wolf King was so ridiculous!"

"So the stitched monsters in this Phantom Demon Alliance are all forcibly set up through fanfiction scripts hand-typed by the great literary giant in a dark room?!"

"What the hell, fanfiction scripts?! That old man isn't just a crazy scientist, he's the circle leader of a stitched-monster fanfiction club!"

Just as the bullet comments were roasting him frantically...

*Boom—!!!*

The heavy mahogany door of the office, along with the adjacent wall, was suddenly blown into rubble by a violent surge of magical energy!

Amidst the swirling dust, a slender dark shadow dashed in like lightning, instantly taking care of the automated security mechs outside the door.

"Time is short. It seems that 'Professor' doesn't intend to waste too much time here."

A deep, raspy male voice echoed through the dust.

The newcomer wore his signature vintage trench coat, his white hair fluttering slightly under the surge of magical energy. His handsome yet pale face exuded an unquestionable composure.

It was none other than Edmond Dantès, who had previously claimed to be his "accomplice" over the phone!

"Count! You're here!"

PD was overjoyed. He quickly pointed at Shakespeare inside the bulletproof glass. "Quick! Break this glass, let's rescue the great writer too!"

However, the "Count" before him merely tilted his head slightly, glanced at Shakespeare behind the glass, and refused in a calm tone:

"Regrettably, my magical energy reserves are only enough to complete a short-distance Rayshift. If we take him along, neither of us will escape."

"The magical barrier here is self-repairing. Within two minutes, a large number of Mechanical Hounds will surround the top of this tower."

Hearing this, PD dazed for a moment.

Shakespeare, inside the bulletproof glass, was actually very open-minded. Not only did he not panic, but he also elegantly took off his tattered top hat and performed a dramatic curtain call:

"Go, Master of Chaldea! Do not trouble your mind over a minor character like myself! In this demonic city full of lies and conspiracies, someone must always stay behind to witness the climax of this grand tragedy!"

"Remember, the moment the truth is revealed is the most moving instant of a play!"

"Hold on to me."

The Count grabbed PD's shoulder, and in the next second, eerie green flames instantly enveloped them both.

Accompanied by a strong sense of spatial distortion, the scenery before PD's eyes shifted wildly.

By the time he felt his feet touch the ground again, they had landed in a remote, deathly silent back alley of Shinjuku, quite far from the abandoned subway station, heavily shrouded in dense fog.

"Whew... It should be temporarily safe here."

The Count let go and patted the dust off his trench coat.

PD let out a long sigh of relief and was about to thank this good brother.

But as he turned his head and looked at the white-haired man standing under the streetlamp beside him, his brow furrowed involuntarily.

The more he looked, the stranger PD's expression became.

In the livestream, the female fans who had been cheering for their "Moon boyfriend" just moments ago also noticed a very subtle sense of dissonance.

"Wait... is this Count a bit off?"

"Yeah! He's too aloof! When he usually fights, he loves to let out that villain-like manic laughter!"

"Exactly! And he saved PD, but he didn't even say his iconic line, 'Wait, and hope'?!"

"This style doesn't look like a vengeful demon at all. It looks more like an old English gentleman who has undergone strict etiquette training."

The flaws that the viewers could spot were naturally noticed by PD, who had been specially trained by the Count for countless days and nights in The Count of Monte Cristo roguelike.

That feeling was like watching someone wearing a Great Sage Equal to Heaven mask speaking in the tone of Tang Sanzang—the sense of discord was absolutely off the charts!

"You..."

PD took half a step back, his hand instinctively reaching toward the Command Spell on the back of his hand, his eyes becoming incredibly vigilant.

In this Shinjuku demonic realm teeming with shapeshifters and Phantasms, he had just suffered a massive loss because of Yan Qing!

Now, seeing this "fake Count" who couldn't even deliver his lines correctly, and who had specifically brought him to this deserted dead end, PD's nerves instantly tightened.

"Who... are you?"

PD stared intently at him, his tone filled with testing.

Hearing PD's defensive questioning, the white-haired man's movements paused slightly.

He looked at the vigilant PD, and a helpless, slightly troubled smile actually appeared on his pale face.

"Oh dear... It seems my disguise skills in this area still can't compare to a professional actor's."

The man let out a soft sigh, his calm tone exuding an absolute confidence that crushed one's intellect.

"In order to infiltrate that Alliance's internal network, I specifically intercepted a trace of the 'Avenger' spirit origin signal remaining in this demonic realm. I thought I could seamlessly fool that suspicious professor, but to my surprise, I ended up exposing myself in front of you 'old acquaintances' instead."

Along with this elegant explanation...

The black vintage trench coat on the man, along with the spirit origin disguise belonging to "The Count of Monte Cristo," peeled away inch by inch like burning paper!

When the disguise completely vanished...

A tall man wearing a sharp British plaid suit, draped in a classic double-breasted trench coat, suddenly appeared in the dim, warm glow of the streetlamp!

A confident smile played on the man's lips as he slowly pulled an exquisite pipe from his trench coat pocket and placed it in his mouth.

Then, he bowed slightly to the dumbfounded PD, performing an impeccable British gentleman's salute.

"Long time no see, Master of Chaldea."

The man blew out a faint ring of smoke, his deep, magnetic voice carrying the warmth of a long-awaited reunion. "It seems a long time has passed since we parted in Camelot."

The moment they clearly saw the man's face, PD's livestream chat experienced the most explosive burst of bullet comments since the broadcast started!

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!!! Holmes?!"

"The Great Detective!!! It's that broken, cheat-like detective from the Fourth Singularity and the Sixth Singularity!!!"

"No wonder! No wonder he couldn't even fake the Count's manic laughter! He's an old gentleman who values logic and reason above all else!"

Looking at the man before him who exuded an aura of "intellectual dominance" from head to toe...

Listening to the greeting that awakened countless memories...

PD's mouth fell wide open. At this moment, all the suspenseful atmosphere of the Shinjuku Chapter was pushed to an absolute climax the instant the famous detective made his entrance!

"You can call me..."

The man took the pipe from his mouth, his sharp eyes seemingly piercing through all the evils and lies of this demonic city.

"Sherlock Holmes."