Chapter 1

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Prologue

In 1829, at a club in London, two men were having a conversation.

One was fairly young, the other middle-aged, but both were dressed in frock coats and silk hats, typical of wealthy gentlemen.

"The popularity is simply explosive."

The middle-aged gentleman, wearing a monocle, smiled and said.

"Our magazine's subscription numbers have doubled, and if this continues, it's not just a dream to quintuple by the end of the year. Is there anything more our company can do for you?"

"Hmm, contractually, I've received more than enough consideration, so I don't think there's anything major right now."

"Still, you really write fast."

"Shouldn't I make a good living while I'm young so I can enjoy a comfortable retirement? And I need to stockpile a lot so that if something happens and I have to go abroad, my readers won't be left waiting, right?"

"Indeed."

Sipping his tea, the editor smiled.

"Originally, the owner was supposed to come himself, but an urgent matter prevented him from doing so."

"Ah, I was hoping to see the owner again, what a pity."

"Didn't you meet him at the party last time?"

"To be honest, I didn't even have a chance to properly introduce myself."

"Oh, what a shame. Next time, I'll arrange a meeting for you."

The editor looked at the young gentleman seriously.

A storm.

No, a gale.

The Sherlock Holmes series was truly causing a gale.

Baker Street, where Holmes's lodgings were said to be, was teeming with tourists, and nearby post offices were suffering because of the letters flying to 221B Baker Street from people who believed Holmes was a real person and wanted him to solve their cases.

The problem was that there was no 221B on Baker Street. As a result, the postmen had to return each letter individually, explaining to the senders that "221B Baker Street does not exist."

Naturally, the fame and value of the author, Edward Gentian, could only rise.

It wasn't Arthur Conan Doyle.

He hadn't even been born yet.

The young gentleman smiled and sipped his tea.

"The scones are delicious."

"Ha ha, Lord, you have refined tastes."

Well.

The young gentleman, called Lord, only smiled quietly.

"Can you give me a hint about the next plot?"

"I plan to give Holmes his first failure."

"Failure...?"

The middle-aged gentleman tilted his head.

"While I'm not an expert in novels, I don't think readers will like Holmes failing."

"Oh, of course, I'll make it plausible. The character Holmes faces this time didn't break any laws, but he holds the key to a very troublesome problem."

"Can you tell me a bit more?"

"Holmes receives a commission as usual, but this client is quite a big shot. A royal from a country."

"A royal."

"The man, claiming to be a prince's envoy, is immediately seen through by Holmes. It was the prince himself. The prince, who had given up his acting career, asks Holmes to find a photograph."

"A photograph?"

"The prince is about to get married. And... among royal families, they often set strict conditions for their marriage partners. The prince is set to have a political marriage with a princess, but a common woman he once had feelings for was furious about it. She vowed to prove that she and the prince had been close and to break off the engagement on the day of the announcement. While there was no child or affair, the situation was such that it could be perceived that way, and the anger of the other royal family alone could be fatal to the prince's position."

"Hmm, then..."

"A platonic relationship, that's all you need to know."

"I see."

"The woman's name is Irene Adler. She had two weapons: the prince's handwritten letter and a photograph of the prince. Holmes stole the letter, and while the handwriting could be forged, he judged that the photograph, taken with the prince and Adler, was the crux of the problem."

"Of course."

"The prince said he would offer anything for the photograph. He promised Holmes a huge fee and even gave him a substantial advance. Holmes offered to bring the photograph to the prince. The prince told Holmes about his previous attempts: he had tried to buy the photograph twice and hired thieves three times to search her house or even send a robber to snatch the photograph from her carriage, but all attempts failed. Holmes pointed out that by stirring things up, she had only hidden the photograph more securely and scolded the prince for not coming to him directly. The prince had no response."

"Hmm."

"Anyway, Holmes successfully found where Irene Adler had hidden the photograph. So Holmes, Watson, and the prince went together, with Holmes climbing over the wall to get the photograph while the prince and Watson waited in the carriage outside. But unexpectedly, Holmes climbed over the wall and came out through the gate, looking flustered, holding a letter."

"Oh?"

"The house was empty. Irene Adler, realizing she was being tracked and that Sherlock Holmes was her opponent, had packed up and fled. The letter was addressed to Sherlock Holmes, stating that she would not return the photograph but also would not make it public, keeping it as a memento of a foolish time. A postscript added that the prince could now marry with peace of mind. The prince marveled, saying that if she had only been of noble birth, she could have been a queen, and that she was a woman who would keep her word. He declared the case solved and asked Holmes what he wanted as a reward. Holmes, instead of any other compensation, chose the photograph of Irene Adler, which she had included with the letter, and that was the end of it."

"Wow, that's quite good. Holmes fails, but not completely. Will Irene Adler appear again in the future?"

"I haven't thought about it yet."

The young gentleman, who had casually recounted the story of the scandal of the Kingdom of Bohemia, which he had embellished, said.

"Then, to the next adventure of Holmes and Watson."

"To the next adventure."

The two men laughed.

In any case, a windfall of money was waiting for them.

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