When I finish the quest in the parallel world, I return to reality.

Just like exiting the stage after the curtain falls.

That was the pattern my ability, ‘Transcendent Connector,’ had always shown.

However, when my darkened vision returned, I was still standing at the ‘crime scene.’

“What?! She’s gone!”

“Where did she go?”

The murmurs of reporters, the corpse of Ashley Cooper that had burst apart, and the missing Vanessa.

“Well done.”

Arthur Conan Doyle.

He was patting my shoulder.

“But in the end, the suspect we were after got away.”

Looking at the spot where Vanessa had disappeared, Conan had the eyes of a detective facing a new mystery.

What I had asked Conan to do was not to catch Jack the Ripper, but to capture the suspect from Crime Pub.

That suspect was ‘Vanessa Walker.’

Of course, Vanessa’s image had been fully captured by the reporters’ cameras.

By dawn, her identity would be front-page news, revealed to the citizens of London.

Under the name ‘Jack the Ripper.’

For ordinary people, that would be the end of the story.

But not for Conan Doyle.

To him, Vanessa, who had suddenly vanished as if she had evaporated, was still an ‘unsolved case.’

He felt a fierce ‘curiosity’ about her sudden disappearance.

Doyle’s intense curiosity was what kept me in this world for a little longer.

==
[Arthur Conan Doyle]
─ Capture the suspect from Crime Pub.
Reward: Conan’s fountain pen

To this cold and meticulous perfectionist, even this was considered a ‘failure.’

My time in 19th-century London was not over yet.

It would have been easy for me to satisfy Conan’s curiosity.

If I told him the truth about my ability, his curiosity would naturally be resolved.

However, I didn’t reveal it to him right away.

The opportunity to enjoy 19th-century London wouldn’t come again.

Until now, I had been too focused on clearing the quests to truly enjoy it.

More importantly, there were still unfinished stories left.

“Ms. Vanessa, you have been ‘summoned’ right now.”

As we walked across a London bridge, I explained to Vanessa what had happened to her.

“Oh, so that’s how it is.”

After hearing my explanation, Vanessa smiled.

Her expression was as unreadable as ever.

Vanessa smiled like that in most situations.

That’s why I was curious.

“Why did you run out?”

When the reporters were photographing Ashley Cooper’s corpse, I never expected Vanessa to step forward in front of them.

By revealing herself, the British government would pin their original sin on her.

And that’s exactly what happened.

London was in an uproar over the revelation of Jack the Ripper’s identity, and Vanessa’s face was plastered all over the newspapers.

Ashley Cooper was recorded as the first ‘male victim’ to be poisoned with Blossom Poison.

Now that her identity had been exposed, Vanessa could no longer live in London.

But she didn’t seem to care much.

Instead, she tilted her head and asked me.

“You told me to come out, didn’t you?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

I was speechless. Even if my eyes had suggested it, still…

“You didn’t have to jump out so recklessly.”

“I told you, I always repay my debts.”

Vanessa always said that whenever I shared bread and food with the children.

That she would ‘definitely repay’ me.

If Vanessa hadn’t stepped forward in front of the reporters, I would have been suspected as Jack the Ripper instead.

The British government needed someone to take the blame, whether it was Vanessa or someone else.

If Ashley Cooper was identified as Jack the Ripper, it could implicate the royal family.

Of course, since I would return to the modern world once the quest was completed, it wouldn’t have mattered to me…

But Vanessa didn’t know that.

She had stepped forward to prevent any harm from coming to me.

Simply because I had shared bread with her.

“All because I gave you some bread?”

“Yes.”

She was truly a reckless woman.

I shook my head in disbelief, and Vanessa smiled again.

Her golden eyes curved beautifully.

Under the setting sun, her golden irises shimmered slyly, like a fox’s.

“To you, it may have been nothing, but to me, it was a huge deal.”

We walked through the streets of London, chatting about various things.

We crossed the bridge where the clock tower was visible, strolled along the Thames River…

Leisurely enjoying the scenery of 18th-century London in the parallel world.

[Conan has done it again!]
[Jack the Ripper’s true identity: An East End tailor?!]

People wandered the streets, holding newspapers with Vanessa’s face on the front page.

“She looks normal, but she’s terrifying!”

“Indeed.”

Even as the main subject of the article walked past them, no one realized it was her.

I marveled at Vanessa’s ability.

She was truly a ‘ghost.’

She had the power to disrupt people’s perception.

No wonder the police could never find her.

“At first, I thought you were the one killing the prostitutes.”

As we crossed Tower Bridge, I spoke about the past.

“I assumed you wanted them to die as humans before they turned into monsters.”

Vanessa widened her eyes in surprise.

“I would never do such a thing.”

An unexpected reaction.

She had seemed to want the prostitutes to die as humans.

But…

“That was their choice.”

“They didn’t know they would turn into monsters after being poisoned.”

“Even if they had known, their decision would have been the same.”

Leaning against the bridge railing, Vanessa gazed at the river.

“People in East End will do anything to escape starvation, no matter what.”

“Even if it means turning into a monster later?”

“The present is what matters.”

Thinking about the future comes later.

That was the mindset of East Enders.

“So I had no reason to interfere.”

Vanessa looked at me and smiled.

Most people would choose to take someone’s life before they turned into a monster.

To let them die as a human.

But Vanessa saw even that ‘path of corruption’ as just another choice.

Perhaps it was because of the differences in the environments we had grown up in.

To me, it was just ‘bread,’ but to Vanessa, it was a hand of salvation.

Vanessa stopped by the church one last time to say goodbye to the children.

“Vanessa, are you really never coming back?”

“Yes, Ciel. Your sister has succeeded, so she won’t be coming back to this small church anymore.”

“Hing, Vanessa, you’re mean.”

“If you don’t like it, then succeed as well.”

Vanessa consoled the tearful children.

The way she comforted them seemed cold, but it was her own way of saying farewell.

“As expected, the bread given by my savior tastes the best.”

Vanessa ate the milk bread deliciously.

I knew that action meant it was time to leave.

There was no place left for Vanessa in London anymore.

But then—

“Still, if I leave like this, it would feel unfair.”

“Let’s give them a parting gift.”

As I looked at her in confusion, Vanessa simply smiled brightly.

“Prime Minister, explain this situation!”

“Is it true that the Blossom Poison is linked to the monsters?”

A press conference was in full swing at the British government office.

Because of the ‘Ashley Cooper death’ case, the White End’s Blossom Poison had been brought to the surface.

Most London citizens had no idea that the poison was responsible for creating monsters.

But that secret had been exposed along with Ashley Cooper’s death.

The British Prime Minister explained it as a ‘natural disaster’ caused by the reckless prostitution of the poor.

“We had no choice but to keep it hidden to prevent unnecessary public anxiety.”

The Prime Minister’s words sounded somewhat convincing.

Given the poor sanitation of White End, it wouldn’t have been strange for monsters to emerge naturally.

“But now that the truth is out, the government will actively work to address the issue of—”

Just as the Prime Minister continued his speech in front of the reporters—

Whoosh—!

A stack of dozens of papers was scattered into the air.

“What is this?”

“This is?!”

“Gasp!”

Reporters who instinctively picked up the papers and read them widened their eyes.

[The Blossom Poison was an artificially created disaster, orchestrated by the British government.]

[Ashley Cooper was the lead researcher overseeing the development of the poison…]

The papers contained the hidden truth about the Blossom Poison case that Vanessa had gathered over time.

Vanessa had collected information by raiding even the gangs that had collaborated with the government, and now it was being exposed to the reporters.

The press conference descended into chaos.

“My God, the Blossom Poison was man-made?!”

“Prime Minister! Explain this immediately!”

“Ugh, that’s…”

The Prime Minister’s face turned ashen.

And then—

“J-Jack the Ripper!”

“There she is! Catch her!”

The police, having spotted Vanessa scattering the papers, rushed up to the second floor.

But before they could reach her, Vanessa vanished into thin air, as if she had been erased.

Late at night.

Having wrapped up everything in London, I went to find Conan.

When I arrived, Conan was in the middle of writing Sherlock Holmes.

Just as he had been when we first met.

But this time, his words were different.

“It seems your business here is done.”

Conan greeted me as if he had been waiting for me.

“Now, tell me—who exactly are you?”

Conan had known everything from the start.

That I was the last missing piece of his puzzle.

So, I told Conan the whole truth.

That I was an awakened traveler from another world and that Vanessa had been banished for distorting history.

“So parallel worlds really do exist.”

It was a ridiculous story, yet Conan believed every word I said.

It was the confidence of a man who knew his deductions could never be wrong.

“Please don’t include this story in Sherlock Holmes. If you do, you might get thrown out of this world too.”

“Then take my fountain pen with you. Otherwise, I won’t be able to resist writing it.”

Conan pushed his fountain pen into my hands, saying that if I didn’t take it, he might just spill everything into Sherlock Holmes.

• You have completed Arthur Conan Doyle’s quest. As a reward, you have received Conan’s Fountain Pen.

Before I knew it, I was back in the Universal Emporium.

And in my hands was Conan’s fountain pen.

[Conan’s Fountain Pen]
[Grade: Legendary]
[Attribute: Deduction]

• The fountain pen of England’s legendary detective novelist, Arthur Conan Doyle. When a mystery is posed, it writes down clues on its own.

‘Why did Ashley Cooper kill the prostitutes?’

As soon as I thought of the question—

Scribble, scribble—

The fountain pen began to move on its own.