Chapter 63: Church Of Asteroid (2)
The mistakes of the rich are covered with money; the mistakes of doctors with soil; but the mistakes of martial artists can only be covered with blood.
–British Proverb
<Archenemy Spotted>
Archenemy.
Even Moran, who had served the Cult Leader for a long time, had only seen this word once before.
The Cult Leader’s plans never failed.
He was the best Kung-Fu crime consultant, and he often used Hypnosis on the criminals who sought him out, especially the weak-hearted ones, turning them into his pawns.
The Cult Leader always operated from the shadows, achieving what he desired, and when he found anyone who could become an obstacle, he would remove them by any means necessary.
That was why Moran was unbearably curious.
How could someone who thwarted the Cult Leader’s plans still be alive? “You summoned me because someone needs to be dealt with, correct?”
Moran asked, inwardly hopeful.
The Great Master had used the term ‘archenemy’, a rare expression indeed.
If he could kill that person himself, it would be the highest honor.
“No.”
However, Moriarty, the Cult Leader’s, response was not what he had hoped for.
“No need to spoil the merriment with undue haste.”
The Great Master continued, using Air Walk to pour tea from the teapot.
“I only created and taught a method and tricks to a child who pitifully desired what was beyond their station. There’s no need to get angry over someone interrupting a pastime.”
“Wasn’t there something else you were aiming for?”
“If it’s stocks of telephone companies, there are others in different countries, so it’s fine. The reason I’ve called you is to help a brother in faith who is undergoing trials.”
Help. It was only after hearing that word that Sebastian’s lips curled into a smile.
“Such matters are always welcome.”
A file folder flew on its own and stopped right in front of the Colonel’s nose.
Moran picked it up and opened it. The document contained the name Timothy Young, an order for his appearance, and the location where he was currently detained.
“Weak-hearted children tend to invite trouble with their words unconsciously.”
“I suppose I will have to help ensure he doesn’t speak lightly.”
The Cult Leader remained silent, but Moran had already accurately grasped what he wanted.
“Then, I will be on my way.”
After finishing his greeting, Sebastian Moran went up to the ground, lit incense at the church altar, and clasped his hands together.
To commemorate the death of the poor lamb who would soon become a star in the sky.
“As You Wish, My Lord.”
The blood that will flow tonight is like a letter sent to the fool who dares to oppose the Cult Leader.
If he fails to heed the warning, he will be next.
Even in the excruciating pain that felt like his heart would burst, Timothy Young believed that the leader would not abandon him, his right-hand man.
And, his desperate wish soon worked a miracle.
“Timothy Young, your lawyer is here to see you!”
Moments later, the detective waiting outside the door called the name of the Phantom Fist.
He hadn’t appointed a lawyer.
So there’s only one answer.
The person standing outside the door must be someone sent by the Cult Leader.
With a flushed face, the Phantom Fist looked up.
The silhouette of the man the police let in was unfamiliar, but the thought of escaping this place made Timothy Young’s lips curl up towards his ears.
“It’s chilly, but I’m glad you’re indoors.”
He desperately tried to hide his front teeth stained red with blood as he scrutinized the slyly smiling face of his lawyer.
A tall man with long limbs.
His eyes, gently closed, formed a graceful curve.
Timothy Young, unintentionally, let all his guard down at the lawyer’s leisurely smile, reminiscent of a saint living free from worldly worries.
“If you were at the outdoor detention center, I would have brought some liquor under the pretense of the cold, but I came in such a hurry that I only managed to bring some snuff. I apologize—”
“You’re late…!! What on earth have you been doing all this time!!”
“……”
Timothy Young abruptly started to berate the lawyer.
Objectively speaking, the attitude he displayed towards the person who had come to look for him, after he had been indicted for four counts of Kung-Fu related murder and one count of attempted Kung-Fu murder, was hardly appropriate.
“…I understand you might be on edge, given the handcuffs and shackles, but I think mutual respect is necessary.”
“It’s you who should show respect to me after you get me out of here. Sending such an incompetent person, what on earth is Father thinking…”
However, before Timothy Young could finish speaking, the lawyer’s expression changed.
The gentle smile from a moment ago disappeared without a trace, replaced by a chilling anger.
-Snap!
The man stood up, grabbing Timothy Young by the neck with a speed invisible to the eye.
The Phantom Fist couldn’t shake off his formidable grip and was left dangling in the air.
“Ka, kah…!”
He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t breathe.
The carotid artery being constricted, it was cutting off the oxygen supply to his brain, causing his consciousness to fade away.
“Foolish.”
The lawyer only released his grip after Timothy Young’s face turned a shade reminiscent of a blueberry.
“Cough!!”
Timothy Young rolled pathetically on the floor.
It was only after he coughed up a mixture of vomit and bloody liquid that he realized the situation was taking a peculiar turn.
Despite the lawyer’s violence against him, the police guarding the corridor showed no reaction.
The commotion should have drawn their attention, but the silence was eerily profound.
This was not a scenario that could occur in an ordinary lawyer consultation.
“You bastard…to humiliate someone favored by Father like this―”
As he rambled, a foreboding thought began to take shape in Timothy Young’s mind.
The fear of death imprinted on his brain loosened the binding of the Hypnosis, allowing a sliver of rational thought to return.
It was understandable if the police were bribed and showed no interest in this side.
Regardless of the means, without involving the police, there would have been no way to use the pretext of a lawyer consultation to get here.
But what if the person wasn’t a lawyer, but an assassin dispatched to eradicate him?
Unable to properly harness his internal energy now, there was no way to avoid death.
“Do you know how much your mistake has disgraced him? To doubt his arrangements when even death wouldn’t suffice as an apology!”
“Please, spare me!! I will never doubt Father again! If you just get me out of here, I will offer my humble service, so please…!”
Realizing the dynamics between himself and his opponent too late, Timothy Young quickly dropped to his knees and clung to the hem of the man’s trousers.
Even though there was a sense of pity in seeing a ruthless killer repeatedly bow his head to the ground in apology, this was London Murim.
Just as a stone thrown into a lake sinks, with a mere gesture from a master, the soul of a novice descends to the netherworld.
And—
“…It’s three o’clock.”
Just as a pebble thrown into the Thames does not resurface, the soul that crosses the Styx, singing its last song, does not return.
“It’s too late to be humble.”
With a vicious smile, the man extended his finger, charged with internal energy, towards the neck of the Phantom Fist.
“Did you kill him?”
As I closed the door and stepped into the hallway, a well-built inspector approached and asked.
“Why would I? I just knocked him out.”
I replied in my usual voice, not the fabricated one, and removed my mask.
“To think I’d have the opportunity to arrest Mr. Holmes in the act, but unfortunately, it slipped away.”
“Your nonsense seems to have increased.”
“Nevertheless, your disguise skills are as creepy as ever. If you hadn’t shown me the mask earlier, I wouldn’t have recognized you.”
“Could you please practice your nonsense to at least a similar level as your eye technique?”
“I’ll take it to heart. So, did you make any progress?”
I nodded.
“I’ve obtained an important clue.”
The mastermind manipulating Timothy Young from behind did not want to leave any traces, but uncovering the truth from minor traces is my specialty.
“Unfortunately, as expected, the Phantom Fist was nothing more than an inflated weakling.”
The mask I wore was modeled after the face of Colonel Sebastian Moran, who had been Moriarty’s right-hand man before my regression.
Moriarty only dispatched Colonel Moran for important assassination missions and was careful to keep him out of the public eye otherwise.
Because of this, I was almost certain that Sebastian Moran had never encountered Timothy Young.
If, by any chance, Timothy Young recognized my disguised face, it would mean he possessed more useful information than I expected.
So, I tested this by showing him the fake face, but he did not recognize Moran’s features.
Of course, that didn’t mean I didn’t gain any information about Moriarty.
“As expected, it seems there is someone behind it all.”
When he was walking around normally, I didn’t realize it, but after he was struck on the head with Brain Stopper, forced into a life-or-death situation, it became clear that he had been manipulated in some way.
Timothy Young clung to my trouser leg, explaining how he had voluntarily devoted himself to ‘Father’ all this time.
It was clear he had fallen victim to some sort of sinister Kung-Fu that made him dedicate everything to the will of a particular entity.
A brainwashed man would never easily divulge information detrimental to the one behind the scenes.
Even if I destroyed the mental constraints, I likely wouldn’t have extracted any significant information.
“That’s unfortunate.”
The inspector seemed to think I hadn’t achieved my goal, but that wasn’t true, so I couldn’t help but smile, unable to withhold my excitement.
“It would have been nice to completely uncover the person behind the scenes.”
“……”
However, I responded to Lestrade’s subsequent words with silence.
Rounding them all up, is it? Even if Scotland Yard and I were to join forces, would it truly be possible to bring Moriarty’s syndicate to its knees?
At the very least, unless I become much stronger than I am now, it would be impossible.
“It’s evident who is behind this. It’s just unfortunate that we don’t have a way to track him down and deal with him immediately.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“It seems that the mastermind behind this incident only thought of using the Phantom Fist as a pawn, but thanks to that, we’ve gotten a step closer to discovering his identity.”
“Please share it with us immediately!! We will mobilize all of Scotland Yard’s investigative resources!!”
A martial artist who has reached a high level can extract juice even from dried jerky.
Moriarty didn’t reveal any important information to Timothy Young, but I managed to successfully find a crucial clue.