Chapter 13
His First and Only Problem (1)
‘Scammer Couple Killed Each Other at the Matchmaking Guild…’
That headline was on everyone’s lips. The scandal was too big to be buried, too sensational to be ignored. And yet, somehow, with that absurdly quick-witted mind of hers, the ‘Lady Detective’ managed to twist the narrative just enough.
‘Detective Couple Solves Murder at the Matchmaking Guild—Justice Prevails!’
Clever. But infuriating.
Because while she ducked behind my hat, successfully avoiding the journalists’ cameras, my face—despite my best efforts—was caught in every single shot. Sure, my name wasn’t in the papers, but some part of my face was. An honest ‘Detective Consultant’ might not be troubled by a bit of fame. But did she even consider that I, a Criminal Consultant, did not have the same luxury?
Urgh, whatever...
This wasn’t the first time she had sabotaged my career.
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Not the second.
Not the third.
Too many times to count.
And, of course, it hadn’t started with the ‘Silver Blaze’ case. Sherlin Hound had been a persistent thorn in my side for far longer than she realized.
A very, very long time…
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Three Years Ago…
I started a consulting business.
Obviously, it was illegal. But compared to child labor in a coal mine or back-breaking shifts in a factory, playing ‘the Mastermind’ was a far more comfortable job for a fourteen-year-old orphan. At the time, I had no money, no power—but I had something far more valuable.
Mastery of Calculation and Probability.
From the moment I could count my fingers, numbers had made sense to me. With my natural grasp of mathematics, I started small—cheating at gambling, laundering money, manipulating markets. And when I had enough funds, I moved on to my true expertise—helping people commit the perfect crime.
It paid well.
Well enough to hire a butler.
Not the usual kind—a stiff old man with a silver tray and a polished accent—but someone useful and lethal.
His name was Sebastian.
He wasn’t just muscle. He was an efficient killer.
A former Imperial Sniper, once feared across the Empire’s farthest reaches, where he had fought in the Emperor’s name. Despite his disgraced past and dishonorable discharge, he was barely out of his prime.
However, he wasn’t a military lapdog.
After all, the very reason he was banished from the army was for putting a bullet through his superior’s skull. And I was well aware—if I ever made myself unworthy of his service, I could expect the same fate.
“I reviewed your client’s plot today.”
Sebastian entered the room with his usual measured steps, balancing a tray in one hand and a heavy equipment case in the other. He set down a steaming cup of black coffee before me, the rich aroma mixing with the faint scent of gunpowder that always clung to him.
“Is it true,” he continued, “that the plan includes framing an innocent person?”
I glanced at the case he carried—his usual observatory kit, but more importantly, his rifle. I took a slow sip of coffee, letting the bitterness settle on my tongue before answering. “If I say ‘Yes,’ will you assemble your rifle and finish me off?”
Sebastian tilted his head slightly, considering. “If I say ‘No,’ it only means I’ll use something else as a weapon.”
A dry chuckle escaped me.
“Fair point,” I admitted, setting the cup down. “Yes, the plan does involve framing an innocent person. But what my client doesn’t know is that I’ve already arranged an auxiliary plot—the one where he dies for real!”
Sebastian’s gaze remained unreadable as he set the case down with a soft thud. “My young master,” he said, voice unreadable. “Clarify.”
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My client, James Norwood, is drowning in debt. His fortune might be substantial, but with bankruptcy looming over him, that wealth is at risk. Desperate to escape it all, he comes to me. But disappearing isn’t his only request—he also wants his ex-lover and secretary, Milia McKaye, to go down.
In exchange for my expertise, Norwood promises me half of his remaining fortune. As his consultant, I advise him to start by altering his will, leaving everything to Ms. McKaye to establish a motive. Then, I tell him to stage a bloody scene—preparing a burned corpse, so severely damaged it will be beyond recognition.
While waiting for Ms. McKaye to be arrested and the situation to settle down, Norwood will hide away in a secret room. During this time, we can do nothing but wait…
But once he steps out of hiding, he has to return to us for further guidance on his escape.
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Sebastian’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the matter at hand.
“And what about the part where he dies for real? Do you intend to kill him yourself?”
I chuckled lightly, leaning back in my chair. “Ah, yes. The auxiliary plan.” I swirled the coffee in my cup, watching the steam rise. “No, we won’t kill him. His accident will happen on its own—we’re just the ones arranging the conditions.”
Sebastian gave a slow nod, his sharp eyes calculating the implications. But there was still one problem. “With all due respect, sir, what about Ms. McKaye?”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Don’t worry. Her arrest will be temporary. Once Mister Norwood dies again, the truth will come out. McKaye will be proven innocent.”
Sebastian exhaled, continuing to set up the tripods for spyglass by the window.
“Even if you say that,” he muttered, peering through the glass, “I still think we shouldn’t let her get into trouble in the first place.”
“Understand,” I tapped my fingers against the armrest, my gaze drifting toward the dimly lit Norwood House in the distance. “But that’s why I had Norwood alter his will. Once we receive our payment, everything will pass to Ms. McKaye as compensation… including the funds that were originally meant to settle Norwood’s debts, of course.”
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For a brief moment, Sebastian was silent as he adjusted the lens of the spyglass. However, as soon as he had focused, his voice broke the quiet—calm, but urgent.
“Sir… I think you should watch this.”
I didn’t bother to look right away. Even if something went wrong, we couldn’t intervene now. Everything had to be perfect from the start, or it was over. I took a slow sip of my coffee, the warmth grounding me. “What’s wrong? Do you see a beautiful woman?”
Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed through the lens, his voice steady. “Well… she is a woman—no, I should say she’s a girl.”
“A girl?” I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Why are you trying to match me with someone now?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘Matchmaking,’ my young master. Because if this is a game, I think we are quite doomed.”
“Oh, come on. What’s so troublesome about one girl?”
Sebastian finally pulled his eye away from the spyglass, giving me an exasperated glance.
“Sir, you’ve never faced her, have you?” He sighed, as though he couldn’t believe I hadn’t made the connection. “The twelve-year-old lady who’s solved several cases and earned the trust of the Metropolitan Knights’ higher-ups?”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, finally intrigued. “Now that’s an interesting girl. But our hidden room is perfect—it can’t be found or opened from the outside.”
“Perhaps,” Sebastian wasn’t so sure. “But, my young master, don’t forget—the Metropolitan Knights have been surrounding the area for three days. According to my informant, it was her order. And the reason Ms. McKaye hasn’t been arrested yet… is also her doing.”
“Patience, Sebastian—patience,” I tapped the rim of my cup, unfazed. “The supplies I had Norwood store are enough for fifteen days. My client has plenty of time to stay hidden.”
Sebastian shifted his focus back to the spyglass. “Oh dear… Why is she piling up wooden furniture and firewood inside the house?” He exhaled sharply as this could really shock him. “Don’t tell me she’s actually going to burn the house down.”
“She’s bluffing!” I let out a short laugh. “What kind of sane person would burn an entire house just to find someone who’s already dead?”
But then Sebastian adjusted the spyglass again, his tone darkening. “Sir, she lit the fire.”
I chuckled dismissively, leaning back in my chair. “That’s very funny, Sebastian. You can’t fool me with—”
Suddenly, without warning, I was pulled out of my chair.
My butler—always composed, always polite—had abandoned all manners. He forcefully grabbed me and dragged me toward the screen.
“Just turn your head and look at the bonfire she lit inside the house! Now, do you still think I’m joking!?”
I froze, my heart sinking as my eyes widened.
The flames were real.
Though small—controlled, for now—it was undeniably there. Seriously, would my carefully crafted plan truly unravel because of… a Madwoman?
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“Impossible!”
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With a growing sense of horror, I grabbed the spyglass and focused on her—on her.
The brown-haired young lady, no older than twelve, ran around the house—wildly, almost frantically—holding a torch, the flames flickering in her small hands. The intensity of her movements could only be described as chaotic. She dashed back and forth, the firelight casting erratic shadows across her figure, ensuring that the entire house was well aware of her threat to burn it down.
And yet, despite the madness of it all, there was something unnervingly captivating about her.
I couldn’t explain it—her presence alone was like a sudden burst of light in a world that had been growing darker and colder with every passing minute. There was an odd magnetism to her, an undeniable force that made the air around her seem... vivid, as if green vines and flowers had bloomed to frame her very existence.
If she was an arsonist…
Then surely, she was the cutest arsonist in the world.
“Young master, are you just flustered?” Sebastian’s voice was a distant hum in my mind. I crossed my arms, trying to steady myself. “Flustered!? Of course, I’m flustered! My plan is falling apart! Who wouldn’t be flustered!?”
The chaos outside mirrored the turmoil inside me.
The plan, carefully constructed over weeks, was teetering on the edge of ruin.
I looked through the spyglass again, my focus snapping to Norwood—my client—who had just stumbled out of the hidden room in a great panic.
I cursed under my breath. “I-D-I-O-T!”
Frustration spilled over as I spat the word, my fingers tightening around the spyglass. My heart pounded as I watched Norwood stagger, visibly shaken, before the Metropolitan Knights snapped shackles around his wrists.
“My plan is perfect… It has always been perfect!”
The words felt like a chant, but they rang hollow in my ears. This was supposed to be my masterpiece—my flawless execution. Every calculation, every step, meticulously crafted for success. And yet, I was watching it crumble before me, unraveling faster than I could grasp.
I was never meant to be in this position.
I never fail.
I stumbled back, my body suddenly heavy, as if the room itself had grown ten times its usual weight. A cold, overwhelming sense of defeat swirled inside me, tightening around my chest. I reached for my head, my fingers brushing against my temples as the world around me blurred.
I couldn’t think straight.
My thoughts, once sharp and precise, were now a chaotic mess.
This can’t be happening.
“Young master,” Sebastian’s voice cut through the haze. “What should we do with the treasure of Norwood? How much should I take?”
I dropped to my knees, the sharp pain of the cold floor snapping me back to the moment. “Leave it…” I muttered, barely able to keep my voice steady.
“Are you certain, young master? We still have access to some of his fortune…” Sebastian hesitated. His voice was steady, composed—unlike the storm raging inside me. My hands curled into fists, my jaw tightening.
“Just leave it!” I snapped. “If we take even a single coin, it can be traced. Do you understand what that means? It would all fall apart.”
Sebastian didn’t reply immediately. He understood. He always did. But the silence only made the weight of failure heavier. I dragged my fingers through my hair, squeezing my eyes shut, willing myself to regain control.
I took a breath. Then another. Finally, I spoke.
“If Norwood claims there was a 'Criminal Consultant' waiting to take half his fortune, yet every last coin remains untouched, no one will believe him. He’ll be treated as a liar, and that so-called consultant will become nothing more than an elusive ghost. Besides, we never even showed our faces to him—so it won’t be a problem.”
For a brief moment, he left me with silence.
But, then, “Uh,” he signed. “I still feel bad about losing our reward.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I let out a humorless chuckle. “But, in this situation, we need to cut our losses.”
“That damn lady…” Sebastian cursed.
The mere mention of her made my fingers tighten. I exhaled slowly, rubbing my forehead. “By the way… who exactly is she?”
Sebastian adjusted his cuffs before answering, his voice measured.
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“Her name is Sherlin Hound, my young master—it’s Lady Sherlin Hound.”
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Back in my room, Sebastian returned from his ‘Hunting Day.’ Without a word, he placed a bloodstained handkerchief on my desk and tossed a bullet casing on top of it. A trophy from his mission—a confirmation of the outcome, as we always did.
However, instead of minding his own business and delivering his report, he turned his attention to ‘my Hobby,’ as he mockingly called it.
“Young master, are you writing your memoir again?”
“Yes. Why?” I didn’t bother looking up, my focus on the paper as I carefully sliced through the text.
“Is it wrong,” I continued, “to organize a research report on my greatest nemesis?”
“Greatest nemesis, hm?” He gave me a sigh. “She’s met you, what—let me count—only three times!”
“And yet, even before we met, my countless perfect crimes routinely fell apart by her mere presence.”
“Of course, of course! She’s not just wealthy, noble, and adorable—but also a genius! Surely, she’s your spec, young master!”
My blade slipped, the cut veering off course.
“Excuse me?”
He leaned in, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“How else could we explain the way you meticulously collect every detail of your life with some lady, if it wasn’t romance?” He gestured lazily at my notebook. “When you two are married, I’ll exhibit it at your wedding party.”
I slammed the notebook shut. “Sebastian!”
“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in surrender, but the smugness didn’t fade. “I won’t say another word about it. But you can’t deny her qualities, can you?”
I exhaled slowly, watching the steam curl from my coffee.
“The first three, I admit. She is wealthy, noble, and... adorable enough to fool people. But genius?” I shook my head. “I doubt that. Something doesn’t sit right. She’s intelligent, yes, but for some reason, her wisdom and wit don’t follow the usual path.”
Sebastian’s teasing faded into something more thoughtful. “You believe there’s something more?”
“It’s suspicious,” I muttered. “Too unnatural. I’ll make my conclusion once I learn more.”
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“In that case, would you like another opportunity to study my Little Lady?”
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The voice drifted in just as the door creaked open.
Sebastian and I snapped our heads toward the entrance, only to freeze in shock. A woman in a black-and-white maid’s dress stepped inside as if she had been invited. Our jaws nearly dropped at her unexpected presence.
“Wait, is that—?!” Sebastian stammered.
“Yes,” I muttered. “Sherlin’s maid?”