The Return Of The God Level Assassin

1197  YUNYUE VS FENGHUANG (XXXII)

SHEN JI YUN waited for Holmes to settle into his seat before taking his own. Luo Yan, who glanced between the two, sat down beside Shen Ji Yun. After a moment of silence, Shen Ji Yun spoke. ”Mr. Holmes, I have always wondered—does a great detective rely more on knowledge or instinct?”

Holmes smiled slightly. ”A question with an answer that changes depending on whom you ask. If you were to inquire with the police, they would say knowledge is paramount—records, statements, evidence. If you were to ask a gambler, he might say instinct, as deduction is nothing but reading the odds. And if you were to ask me—” He paused, considering. ”I would say neither.”

Luo Yan tilted his head. ”Neither?”

Holmes gestured vaguely. ”Knowledge is essential, yes, but it is useless without context. Instinct may guide you, but alone, it is unreliable. The true answer is observation. One can memorize every law book in London, but if he cannot see what is before him, he will never solve a crime. And instinct, however strong, must be refined by what the eyes and mind perceive. The key is in the details—ones that others overlook.”

Shen Ji Yun remained impassive, but his mind kept working. The answer had come too quickly, too naturally. An imposter would have hesitated, but this man hadnʼt. Either he was just that smart, or he truly was Sherlock Holmes.

Still, he needed more.

He leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other. ”I recall hearing about a peculiar case some years ago,” he mused. ”A man who sought your help over a missing butler. By the time you arrived at his home, you informed him there was no case at all.”

Holmes exhaled a quiet laugh. ”Ah. The case of James Phillimore.”

Luo Yan, who had remained silent, glanced at Shen Ji Yun but said nothing.

Holmes tapped a finger idly against the armrest. ”Phillimore had merely stepped outside to fetch his umbrella and was never seen again. A most intriguing disappearance, one that, I regret to say, remains unsolved.” He tilted his head slightly. ”Not one of my triumphs, but a mystery all the same. It is curious that you would bring it up—few ever do.”

Shen Ji Yun watched him closely. This was it. The case of James Phillimore was only ever mentioned in passing by Watson, never fully recorded as a complete case. Most people who knew of Holmes only from widely published accounts wouldnʼt recognize the name, let alone recall that it was never solved.

Only a true Sherlockian like himself would have recognized it instantly. Even if, by some chance, the person they were speaking to was a member of Team Fenghuang and also a devoted fan of Sherlock Holmes, there would have been a brief pause—an instant of recall before responding. No human could immediately retrieve such an obscure detail without a moment of thought. Yet, this man had answered without hesitation, as if the knowledge was ingrained rather than remembered. That could only mean one thing—his understanding of Sherlock Holmes wasnʼt learned, but programmed. Like an NPC. It seemed that they truly found the right person, or rather, the right NPC.

Shen Ji Yun and Luo Yanʼs eyes met at the same moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Shen Ji Yun gave a slight nod—his way of confirming that he was certain the man before them was truly Sherlock Holmes. Luo Yan, catching the message, nodded in return, signaling that he understood. ”It seemed that you finally have your answer,” Holmes said with a knowing look, as if he could tell what was happening.

Shen Ji Yun met his gaze evenly, without showing any panic. ”We do.”

Holmes chuckled, seeming pleased with the response. ”Then, tell me, Your Grace—shall we continue this conversation, or is your curiosity satisfied?”

”Iʼm more than satisfied. Thank you for humoring me, Mr. Holmes,” Shen Ji Yun said smoothly. ”As a gesture of goodwill, allow me to share a piece of crucial information—one that may aid in capturing Jack the Ripper.”

Holmes gave a slight, approving nod, his eyes gleaming with interest. ”By all means.”

”We suspect there are people helping the Ripper,” Shen Ji Yun said.

Holmes arched a brow, unsurprised by the revelation. His response only confirmed it. ”I had my suspicions. A lone man, no matter how cunning, could not have moved so freely—twice—without drawing attention. It presents a curious problem. The train departed from Paris only yesterday, yet he has already secured assistance. That suggests prior acquaintance. And yet… such forethought does not align with the Ripperʼs known behavior.”

Holmes tapped his fingers against the armrest, his gaze sharpening as he continued. ”The Ripper, as we know him, is not a man of patience. He thrives in chaos, striking swiftly and vanishing before order can reassert itself. His crimes, while brutal, are not carefully orchestrated—they are acts of impulse, driven by an urge he cannot suppress. A man like that does not seek alliances. He does not plan ahead. He does not recruit.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. ”And yet, here we are. A confined space, limited in variables, and somehow, he has found assistance. That is an anomaly. Either we are dealing with a man who has evolved beyond his known habits, or someone else has taken it upon themselves to aid him for their own reasons.” Holmes exhaled softly, as if the contradiction both intrigued and irritated him. ”But tell me, Your Grace—what kind of person would willingly align themselves with a man who butchers without remorse?”

This time, it was Luo Yan who answered. ”Maybe they didnʼt have a choice.” ”A man always has a choice,” Holmes countered.

Well, if you were competing in a match, playing to win meant following the gameʼs rules—there was no real choice in the matter. But this was something Luo Yan couldnʼt exactly explain to Holmes. So instead, he simply smiled.

”Of course, youʼre right, Mr. Holmes,” he said. ”Now, shall we have breakfast first and continue our discussion later?”