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[Translator – Seraph]
[Proofreader – Draxx]
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Chapter 39
The moment the fountain pen began to move on its own, it felt like my spirit left my body, as if I was having an out-of-body experience.
It was as if I was watching someone else’s writing unfold before my eyes, like viewing a movie in a dark theater one where the lights had already gone out and I was no longer the author, but merely a third-party observer.
By the time I regained my senses, blue mana had traced letters across the countertop.
[Ashley Cooper is, before anything else, an anatomist not just a surgeon.]
[Corpses, anomalies, the Royal Society… This might even involve the Crown itself…]
Just like Conan, who always muttered to himself during moments of deduction.
The pen’s reasoning mirrored Conan’s speech patterns almost perfectly.
Even the handwriting was strikingly similar so much so that I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Conan would write if he had ever learned Korean.
‘Do relics begin to resemble their owners?’
Then again, this fountain pen had been used by Conan while he wrote Sherlock Holmes.
Considering how Conan spent half his days devoted to writing, this pen must have been practically an extension of himself.
It also meant that he had wanted so badly to immortalize my story in the world of Sherlock Holmes that he could not bear to part with this pen.
At any rate, the clue it provided the reason Ashley Cooper had killed the prostitutes went beyond mere hints. It was practically an answer.
After all, this was Conan’s deduction.
Still, it was only a theory, a mental picture formed by piecing together fragments of a puzzle. So the pen ended its analysis in the form of a question.
I opened my phone and searched for the name ‘Ashley Cooper’.
==
[Sir Ashley Cooper (1840–1888)]
A pioneering anatomist who made significant contributions to the development of surgical science, vascular operations, and anatomical studies. He also laid the foundations for modern anomalistics.
==
With that, the missing puzzle pieces clicked into place, and the image was finally complete.
‘So that’s why he harvested their organs… it was for experimentation.’
The prostitutes would have died anyway, eventually succumbing to the plague.
For Ashley Cooper, a surgeon, they were the perfect test subjects.
Just as the pen suggested, it may have all been orchestrated under the auspices of the British Crown.
Cooper was a brutal murderer, yet ironically, history remembered him as a great contributor to modern medicine.
The script written across the counter slowly evaporated over time fading like mist.
Even after that, I continued to test Conan’s fountain pen.
I was curious just how far could this pen take its deductions?
From famous mystery novels like ‘And Then There Were None’ and ‘The Tragedy of Y’, to collections of locked-room mystery tricks.
Skritch skritch—
Conan’s fountain pen traced out deductions with the confidence of a key turning in the lock of truth.
Time melted away as I lost myself in its writing.
But then, a sharp burning sensation bloomed in my head and I caught the scent of something scorched, rising from my own nose.
“…I think that’s enough.”
I set the fountain pen down.
The mana was draining so rapidly that I felt dizzy.
Its power was so overwhelming, so precise, it almost felt as though Conan himself were sitting right beside me.
But even Conan’s pen wasn’t omnipotent.
The harder the mystery, the fewer the clues, the more mana the pen demanded exponentially.
With insufficient evidence, it would sometimes scribble out false starts, begin a new deduction, or simply stop writing altogether.
Naturally, the longer it spent deducing, the more my mana drained like water pouring from a cracked jar.
And in the end, what the pen offered were only clues.
A deduction is still just a theory; it can never be blindly accepted as the truth.
But even that wasn’t enough without clues, the pen couldn’t deduce anything.
“Still… at least it doesn’t take up a slot.”
Conan’s fountain pen was a special-rank relic, a relic that could be stored in either the Relic Catalog or the General Catalog.
Of course, my Relic Catalog had already exceeded its slot limit, so storing it there wasn’t even an option.
─Relic Catalog slot limit exceeded.
─Conan’s Fountain Pen has been moved to the General Catalog.
A system message popped up, and the pen was automatically relocated to the General Catalog.
I figured it was because I hadn’t received the pen through a main quest but through a side quest.
After all, it wasn’t Conan who summoned me to London—it was Vanessa.
And while the pen was classified as a legendary relic, it was clearly a non-combat relic.
==
◆ Transcendent Catalog
–Jeanne D’Arc
–Vanessa Walker
==
Vanessa had now joined Jeanne in the Transcendent Catalog.
==
[Vanessa Walker, the Woman Who Twisted Fate]
[Rank: Legendary]
[Attribute: Shadow]
[Manifestation Time: 6 Hours]
[Resummon Cooldown: 01:57]
–Vanessa Walker was a seamstress in London, recorded in history as Jack the Ripper.
She was meant to become a phantom of the past but she changed her own fate and reclaimed her name. As a result, she was exiled from the world.
==
I couldn’t help but click my tongue at the shocking entry.
A woman who twisted fate…?
‘As if fate was ever set in stone to begin with.’
Frowning at the dramatic description, I summoned both of them.
“You’re back.”
That was Jeanne’s voice.
She calmly took in the view of the city skyline through the window. Having spent over a month by my side, Jeanne had adapted well to modern society.
Vanessa, on the other hand, wore a rare look of genuine surprise.
Her golden eyes widened as she took in this new world for the first time.
“So this is the world of my benefactor?”
“Yes. This place is called Seoul.”
But her surprise lasted only a moment. Vanessa quickly returned to her usual composed expression.
“So… does this mean I can finally eat as much toast as I want?”
With a bright smile, she even cracked a joke.
I couldn’t help but chuckle and nod.
“Not just toast. You’ll get to try all kinds of delicious food. That’s why I brought you here.”
“I look forward to it.”
“But first, we’ll need to get you some new clothes.”
Vanessa tilted her head slightly in confusion, still dressed in a full 19th-century ensemble, straight out of Victorian London.
***
To buy Vanessa some new clothes, I called my sister again.
“Oppa, are you collecting women or something?”
“It’s for work. We’ll be staying together for a while.”
“What kind of work?”
“Don’t ask. It’s complicated.”
After handing Seoyeon some spending money, we headed to a shopping mall and picked out an outfit for Vanessa.
A white blouse with a black skirt.
“Hm, so this is what people wear in my benefactor’s world.”
Vanessa seemed intrigued by the outfit she was now wearing.
As a seamstress, she naturally had an eye for design.
“If you’re interested, we can look around some more.”
“No, I wouldn’t want to keep the two of you waiting on my account.”
She smiled lightly as she observed the various displays in the shopping mall.
Following her gaze, I clicked my tongue.
Somehow, while we weren’t looking, Jeanne had been changed into a different outfit courtesy of Seoyeon, who was still holding onto her.
Jeanne’s cheeks puffed out slightly in mild protest.
***
Nikolai was a hunter affiliated with the Russian Orthodox Church.
He had come to Korea on a directive from the Moscow Diocese.
‘Secure the Saint before the Catholics do.’
His mission was clear to find and secure the Saint who had reportedly appeared in Korea.
He had heard that the Catholic Church had already dispatched their own people. That only heightened his sense of urgency.
If they got to her first, his position would be in jeopardy.
The Patriarch was not a man who granted second chances to failures. No matter what it took, he had to bring the Saint under their control.
A Saint was an immensely symbolic figure for the Church.
He had already pinpointed her general location.
Now, all that was left was to retrieve her.
“Mobilize all execution priests. Bring the Saint to me.”
“Understood.”
The priest received his orders and left the room.
Now alone, Nikolai gazed out at the night skyline of Seoul, swirling his glass of vodka.
***
After finishing our shopping, we took our time exploring the city.
We had dinner at a Korean restaurant, visited an arcade, and even went bowling.
What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was Jeanne’s unexpected competitiveness.
Her score was consistently lower than ours, and she clearly wasn’t happy about it.
She kept rolling the ball with puffed-out cheeks, determined to improve her performance.
It wasn’t that she was bad, scoring 90 as a beginner was actually quite respectable.
The real issue was the competition.
Seoyeon was already skilled at bowling, and I could easily surpass 100 points without trying.
“Mmm… I feel bad for having all the fun.”
“No, it was plenty of fun.”
“Let’s come again next time.”
“……”
Yeah, she’s definitely feeling a bit salty about her score.
‘Jeanne has a competitive streak? Who would’ve thought…’
Then again, she did live through the Hundred Years’ War. It wasn’t all that surprising in hindsight.
Just unexpected.
Speaking of surprises…
“Vanessa, I have to say I didn’t expect you to be that good at bowling.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Were there bowling alleys in England?”
“No, this was my first time.”
Vanessa smiled gently.
But despite her claim, she played incredibly well.
A first-timer scoring 220 points was absurd.
And that was only because she had missed a shot early on otherwise, her score could have been even higher.
After testing the ball a few times and making some practice rolls, she didn’t miss a single shot afterward.
‘She could go pro at this rate.’
As expected of Jack the Ripper her control over her own body was exceptional.
Not that she seemed to care about bowling at all.
Regardless, after a full evening of fun, we returned to the Shop late at night.
It was then that Vanessa suddenly stopped and gazed silently past the residential area.
“Is something wrong?”
“Benefactor. May I take a short walk?”
“Go ahead.”
I granted permission without hesitation.
Her summoning would automatically expire after a certain time, so there was no risk of her getting lost.
‘She must have something on her mind.’
After all, she had been abruptly pulled away from her own world. It made sense that she would want some time alone.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Flashing a reassuring smile, Vanessa left those words behind and disappeared beyond the residential streets.
***
Meanwhile, at that very moment…
Beneath the residential district of Yeoksam-dong, where Vanessa had been gazing…
A group of Russian Orthodox execution priests gathered around a circular table.
They were the Church’s shadow operatives, the ones who handled all its dirty work.
“The Saint has entered the shop.”
One of the priests who had been monitoring the General Store reported his findings.
“You’re certain it’s her?”
“See for yourself.”
He tossed a photograph onto the table.
The image showed Jeanne entering the shop.
“What about her guards?”
“There were three people with her, but they didn’t seem to be a problem.”
“Then we proceed immediately. We’ll retrieve the Saint at once.”
Just as they finished their discussion.
“Hmm… by any chance, are you referring to Jeanne?”
“Who’s there?!”
A sudden, unfamiliar voice made the execution priests leap to their feet.
“!”
A woman they had never seen before was now seated among them.
“Looks like I was right.”
Holding the photograph of Jeanne in her hand, Vanessa smiled.
But beneath her gently curved eyes, her golden irises gleamed cold and sharp as glass.
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[Translator – Seraph]
[Proofreader – Draxx]
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