Chapter 77 A Small Game

Twenty minutes earlier…

Holmes walked past Feng Bujue and sat down in the chair next to the Professor, placing his cigarette case on the table. “How did you deduce that the Professor had a partner?”

Feng Bujue chuckled. “There are six seats here, aren't there?”

“Based on that alone?” Moriarty asked.

“Isn’t it enough?” Feng Bujue leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands. “Your pursuit of order and precision has become instinctual. In your ‘inner world,’ how could there be anything meaningless?” He tapped the table twice with his finger. “Theoretically, if all four of us interdimensional travelers came here, plus you, that would only be five people. So why have a sixth chair? Simple, because there’s someone else.”

“Then how do you know that the person who came to the table is the Professor’s partner and not another guest?” Holmes asked again.

“Because I guessed that the person who came would be you,” Feng Bujue replied.

“Hmph…” Holmes exhaled a smoke ring. “You learned from the magic mirror that the Professor is the owner here. And after watching that video, you deduced that both the Professor and I are in this space.” He paused. “I can understand that, but why would you think the Professor and I are partners?”

“He's right,” Moriarty interjected. “People usually think of us as mortal enemies.”

“You’re both already dead,” Feng Bujue said. “How can there be mortal enemies?”

“Heh… go on,” Holmes said with a slight smile.

“The relationship of ‘arch-enemies’ is built on mutual respect and recognition. Therefore, arch-enemies… are something you can only stumble upon.” Feng Bujue continued, “In contrast, the relationship of friends is quite easy to cultivate. You only need to understand and tolerate each other’s bad habits.”

Feng Bujue looked left and right at the two men. “You two are arch-enemies, not mortal enemies. Of course, you certainly have had hatred, but after death… that no longer exists.” He said, “Birds of a feather flock together. Setting aside the identities of criminal consultant and consulting detective, you are two very similar people. Given the right conditions, the possibility of you working together is very high.”

Moriarty’s expression didn’t change. He said coldly, “If your diction were slightly more elegant, I might be tempted to applaud you.”

Feng Bujue curled his lip, noncommittal.

“So… how did you deduce the ‘inner world’ thing?” Holmes asked again.

“The magic mirror told me…” Feng Bujue replied, “Before I could ask my second question, the magic mirror eagerly asked me if my second question was, ‘Who are the spiritual hosts of these two spaces?’” Feng Bujue smiled. “The moment he said that, there was no need for me to ask.”

“yourbrain, yourrule,” Feng Bujue looked at the Professor and said. “What’s obvious is that in the world you constructed, I am restricted.” He was naturally referring to the fact that he couldn't use his inventory bar. “The things I ‘brought’ into this world, none of them can be used.” As he spoke, he took out his folding knife from his pocket and placed it on the table. “But when I return to my memory space, I can not only use the items I already had, but also those I obtained from you. I think… that’s because the things I obtained in this world have also become part of my ‘memory.’”

“As for the spatial transfer between these two worlds, it shouldn’t be related to actual physical phenomena, otherwise the things in my pockets would have been lost in the waterfall’s rapids long ago.” Feng Bujue placed his hands behind his head and said, “In my memory space, the reason those items are wet is just because of the water in the bathtub.”

“Hmm… not bad,” Holmes said. “But not entirely accurate.”

“I’m all ears,” Feng Bujue said.

Holmes responded, “Let the Professor tell you about that.”

Moriarty looked directly at Feng Bujue and said in a deep voice, “This isn’t just my mental world, but a space composed of collective will.” He adjusted his collar. “Mr. Holmes and I are simply stronger than the other wills here, so we have taken the lead, thereby becoming the dominators of the space.”

“I see,” Feng Bujue said. “Then I wonder if I can make such an assumption… if, in spirit, even for just a few seconds, I can become stronger than the two of you, I will become the dominator here?”

“Yes,” Moriarty replied in a gloomy tone. “You can try at any time.” He sneered. “As long as you master the rules of this space and can surpass me in will, then you can snap your fingers and make me explode like a balloon.”

“Then… what are the ‘rules’ of this space?” Feng Bujue said.

“That’s for you to figure out yourself,” Moriarty replied.

As they were talking, a figure suddenly appeared in the chair next to Feng Bujue. Who else could it be but Honghu?

“Hmm… where is this…” When Honghu saw the personal task that had been checked off in his task bar, he immediately understood, “This is the seventh floor?”

“Welcome to the Deduction Club,” Feng Bujue said to Honghu, stealing the Professor’s thunder.

“Brother Feng…” Honghu looked around, “Who are these two?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” Feng Bujue pondered. “So… the memory spaces we each experience are different.”

Hearing this, Honghu asked, “Brother Feng, didn’t you meet Peter Pan?”

“I met the magic mirror, a succubus, and things like that…” Feng Bujue said.

Honghu sighed. “Ah… I talked about life for half an hour with a bald uncle who called himself Peter Pan.”

“Ah?” Feng Bujue was also stunned.

“He said he left Neverland, chose to grow up, found a job, got married and had children, paid off a mortgage and insurance… Later, he also talked about the financial crisis and rising oil prices…” There was a look of fear in Honghu’s eyes. “I don’t know why, but the more I listened, the more hopeless I felt about life…”

“Oh, you really are unlucky,” Feng Bujue said. “I had it much better. First, the magic mirror subtly told me the fact that I am the most handsome person in the world, then I killed the ghosts of Cinderella’s stepmother and two stepsisters, and finally I had a fling with a succubus.”

After hearing this, Honghu’s only feeling was that he had been stabbed in the back.

“Haha! Actually, I made it all up, just wanted to see your reaction,” Feng Bujue laughed.

“I’m warning you, don’t add me as a friend after the script is over,” Honghu said coldly with a blank expression.

“Ahem… gentlemen,” Moriarty cleared his throat.

Feng Bujue acted as if he had just remembered the existence of the two bosses on the other side. “Oh, right, right, I forgot to introduce you.” He turned to Honghu and said, “This is Professor James Moriarty.” He gestured, “The one next to him smoking a pipe is Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you,” Honghu actually wanted to go over and shake their hands.

“Don’t move.” The moment Holmes said this, he reached out and flicked his pipe. This inadvertent action of his caused Honghu to be pressed back into his seat by an invisible force.

“I haven’t finished yet,” Feng Bujue continued from where he left off, “The Professor is the owner here, and Mr. Holmes is his partner.”

Honghu’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a few seconds. The response he ultimately gave was, “I see…”

“Yes, that’s right,” Feng Bujue said.

“Everyone, now that four people have taken their seats,” Moriarty said at this moment, “let the game begin.”

“What game?” Honghu asked.

“A little game that the Professor and I invented together, as a pastime for Deduction Club gatherings,” Holmes said.

Feng Bujue said, “I’d like to ask, how many members does your club have in total?”

“Currently, only the two of us,” Moriarty replied.

“Wouldn’t it be that the other members have all died during this pastime activity?” Feng Bujue asked.

“Hehe…” Moriarty smiled, implying everything.

“Feng Bujue, you arrived before Honghu, so you go first,” Holmes said.

At the same time, the Professor snapped his fingers, and a neatly stacked pile of cards appeared on the table out of thin air.

“Hoh~ what luck,” Feng Bujue said sarcastically.

“This game requires at least two people who know the ‘truth’ to participate, and on this table, the ones who know the truth are the Professor and I,” Moriarty explained. “In the card pile in front of you, there are four types of cards: [Hint], [Inquiry], [Speculation], and [Presumption]. Newcomers need to enter the game with [Hint].”

“So, I have to draw a [Hint] now?” Feng Bujue asked.

“No, you don’t need to pick a card yourself.” As Moriarty spoke, the pile of cards on the table spread out on its own, scattered all over the tabletop.

“Hmph…” Holmes continued, “The [Hints] have already been given to you, there are five sentences in total.”

As soon as these words came out, Feng Bujue and Honghu instantly understood that they were referring to the previous five messages.

“You should have encountered situations in your memory space that matched these hints,” Holmes said. “Each time you encounter one, it is considered that one hint has been consumed.” He paused for two seconds, then continued, “And for the remaining sentences, each one means you have to draw a [Hint] card.”

“Sounds like this card isn’t anything good…” Feng Bujue hadn’t finished speaking.

Moriarty interrupted him. “Read one sentence, and you’ll understand.”

“Heh? Who’s afraid of who?” Feng Bujue slammed the table. “Greet wretched Destiny with smiling face and meet whatever misfortune with courage hundredfold.” As soon as the words came out, a [Hint] card automatically moved in front of him.

“Quite high-tech,” Brother Jue reached out and flipped the card over. “I picked it up, so what?”

Moriarty and Holmes didn’t say anything, one gave a cold smile, and the other smoked his pipe.

Seeing that they didn’t react, Feng Bujue’s gaze fell on the card.

On the front of this card was printed a clown’s face.

Almost the moment his gaze made contact, the card fell from Feng Bujue’s hand. And his hand involuntarily reached for the folding knife on the table…