Since the moves unfolded in this universe, the traces of both a master who has reached the state of nature and an ordinary warrior can never be erased.

–Samuel Smiles, Self Help1

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Most of the fifteen people entered their rooms after enjoying card games late into the evening, and the military doctor and police officer decided to set the watch order.

“Damn it. I lost money by a hair’s breadth.”

“Since we’re talking about gambling, let’s decide the order with a coin toss. If it lands tails, I’ll take the first watch.”

“Then I’ll bet on heads.”

In fact, it didn’t really matter who took which side. Watson was accustomed to keeping watch since her days in the army.

Of course, wanting to lie down and rest her tired body immediately, the idea of sleeping first seemed more appealing.

-Ting!

Perhaps the heavens knew Watson’s heart.

The coin thrown by Lestrade landed with the tails side up.

“Looks like I’ll be standing in the hallway for four hours first.”

The inspector, who readily accepted the result, walked to the end of the hallway and leaned against the wall.

On both sides of the hallway, fifteen people, considered potential targets of the Phantom Fist, were asleep, and from his position, he could monitor all the rooms.

Thanks to Holmes’s advance contact with the hotel to block all windows, there were no entrances to the rooms other than the doors.

Whether the Phantom Fist came or those staying in the rooms tried to leave, he could observe everything.

“Well then, I’ll take a nap first.”

Watson bid farewell to Lestrade and headed straight to her room at the opposite end of the hallway.

The neatly arranged hotel room was more comfortable than the first-class carriage, and the bed was plush.

There was even a cozy fireplace on one side of the wall.

Even though she couldn’t sleep long due to having to take turns with Lestrade, it shouldn’t hinder relieving travel fatigue.

‘…A soundproof formation and even a telephone, it seems the hotel owner spent quite a bit of money.’

More than the bed or other furniture, what caught Watson’s eye was the telephone installed in the room.

It was possible to have an intercom conversation with other hotel guests as well as contact cities far away.

‘I wonder if I can contact Holmes…’

She briefly considered the idea but soon realized it was impossible.

Firstly, Holmes would be busy running around London by now.

Secondly, even if she wanted to contact Holmes, there was no telephone at Mrs. Hudson’s lodging.

The reason was that neither Holmes nor Mrs. Hudson were inclined to use it due to the substantial subscription cost.

‘…I have to wait for three days.’

Staying alone in a city far from London, the absence of her companion felt more pronounced than ever.

The only solace was that Holmes, who was chasing the criminal, was equipped with both high martial skills and an exceptional mind.

Though he had said three days, he would surely capture the criminal faster than expected.

“Holmes will somehow manage.”

Watson took off her coat and lay down on the bed. As she had to stand watch in four hours, she couldn’t bring himself to change into pajamas.

“……”

While she was having trouble falling asleep due to the bandages binding her body being uncomfortable, she suddenly remembered the leather pouch in her bag.

Watson immediately took it out and placed it at the head of the bed.

‘If ever you find yourself faced with a matter beyond your power to resolve, open this.’

Handing over a leather pouch, Holmes said so.

It is unclear what is inside the dirty pouch.

However, whatever it was, Holmes’s concern for her was clearly conveyed.

‘Though this wasn’t given to be used like this―’

Watson lay back in bed, covered herself with a blanket, held the leather pouch tightly, and closed her eyes.

The pouch was deeply imbued with the scent of the elixir from Holmes’s coat.

“……”

For some reason, she felt a little less lonely.

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Three twenty a.m.

A loud telephone bell rang in the room where Postmaster General Henry Fawcett was staying.

A call of unknown origin.

Fawcett got up from bed and picked up the receiver.

“It’s Henry Fawcett. What’s your business at this hour―”

-Crack!

Before Fawcett could finish speaking, a sound of something shattering was heard from beyond the receiver.

“Hmm…?!”

The instincts that Fawcett honed while living as a blind man detected a sharp murderous intent aimed at him in that brief moment.

However, the assassin had not approached closely.

He was the only one in the room.

After confirming that fact, a hypothesis formed in the Postmaster General’s previously cloudy mind.

Only one possibility can explain all these doubts.

With a thunderous revelation, Fawcett realized who had called him.

If he stayed still, he would be killed.

Having confirmed the source of the deadly intent, Fawcett tried to move immediately, but.

-Boom!!

Before he could, a shockwave shook the hotel.

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Early dawn. Watson, startled awake by the loud noise, fell out of bed.

“Heuk.”

It was indeed a Golf Club2 in the middle of the night.

Surely, a loud noise and vibrations shook the hotel.

Sensing that something had happened, Watson quickly wrapped the bandage around her body again and dashed into the hallway.

“Is it there…!”

Her gaze was immediately directed toward the entrance of Room 105, where the Postmaster General was staying.

There, five or six awakened guests had gathered in front of the door with excited faces.

“No way… No, it can’t be―”

The worst possibility flashed through Watson’s mind.

“Tell us what happened!”

“Move!! I must check on the safety of Sir Fawcett!!”

“Minister! Are you there!! If you’re safe, please respond!!!”

Meanwhile, Inspector Lestrade was standing alone in front of the door.

Even though he was an inspector from Scotland Yard, it didn’t seem easy to block the numerous gentry alone.

“Stop! This is now a police matter!! Everyone calm down and return to your rooms!!!”

“Shut up! We can’t leave until we confirm the Minister’s safety!”

The inspector was trying to control the situation somehow, but people were stubbornly pushing him and trying to enter the firmly closed room of the Postmaster General.

Did the Postmaster General really get attacked and killed?

She wanted to confirm, but for now, sending the people gathered there back to their rooms and calming the chaos seemed like the priority.

Watson employed the method used in hospitals to calm a patient’s excitement and proceed with anesthesia without applying physical force.

-Golden Dream Full of Eyes

-Waiting to Awaken with a Smile

Golden dreams fill the eyes.

I will wait for you to awaken with a smile.

When following the mnemonic of Golden Slumber left by Thomas De Quincey, Watson’s true energy underwent a transformation.

-Fwaaaah!

The True energy, guided by her will, turned into a Yin energy with strong calming properties, and Watson spread this energy through the hotel corridor on the wind.

It was not a situation where a single patient needs to be completely anesthetized, but rather a situation where an excited crowd needs to be calmed.

Naturally, the True energy consumed is also several times more than usual.

However, Watson’s elixir field, having absorbed half of the Unicorn Salamander’s seasoned pill, held enough internal energy to handle this.

-Thud.

“What have you done to my legs…?”

“Strange, I can’t channel strength to my elixir field.”

Those with lower realms than Watson were sitting down one after another, even though they hadn’t been struck on their acupoints.

Their muscles were so relaxed that even standing proved difficult.

Even those with excellent martial achievements who withstood the foreign Yin energy for anesthesia couldn’t escape the calming effect and had much more composed expressions.

“Please return to your rooms. It’s for your safety.”

Watson walked to the door of Sir Fawcett’s room, guarded by Lestrade, and began persuading them.

“The Phantom Fist followed us to Cambridge, yet you say such things.”

“It will only be a moment. We will respond immediately after assessing the situation accurately.”

What would Holmes have done in this situation?

Imagining her absent roommate with desperation, Watson sent the litigation parties back to their rooms as calmly as possible.

“I unintentionally owe you, Doctor. I think I understand why Holmes sent you to come along.”

Lestrade, realizing who was responsible for the sudden calm among the people, immediately thanked Watson.

Surprised by the fact that the man who usually seemed so dull quickly noticed the change in her True energy, Watson had an unexpected expression.

She suddenly realized that Holmes was right when he said Lestrade and Gregson were the best inspectors at Scotland Yard.

“By the way, what kind of martial skill did you just perform?”

Meanwhile, Lestrade, not knowing what Watson was thinking, was asking out of curiosity.

“I applied the mnemonic used for anesthetizing patients when there is a shortage of Gentleman Powder in the hospital.”

“I see. Application, hmm…”

Lestrade rested his chin in his hand, deep in thought as if he had gained some inspiration.

Watching this, Watson felt it was similar to her own reactions when she saw Holmes. Additionally, there was a slight sense of achievement and pleasure that didn’t fit the serious situation.

The reason she was able to use the martial skill she had learned in this way was thanks to Holmes’s teachings on Baritsu.

During the short time preparing for the Debutante Ball, Holmes’s open-minded approach gave Watson the opportunity to understand various techniques and ways of utilizing internal energy.

However, now was not the time to compliment Holmes’s excellence.

The situation was urgent, as the Postmaster General’s life could be at risk.

In such times, if a doctor like herself didn’t stay composed, no one could be saved.

“First, open the door. I want to check on Sir Fawcett’s condition.”

Watson demanded from the inspector with a resolute expression befitting a soldier.

Lestrade nodded slightly, as if he had made some decision.

“…I was just about to show you.”

Lestrade checked that the doors of the other guest rooms were firmly closed, then cautiously opened the guarded door.

-Creak.

Watson poked her head through the open crack to inspect the room.

The first thing that caught her eye was the body of Sir Fawcett lying on the floor, completely motionless.

“My goodness…”

Lestrade seemed to have already examined the scene once, as there was a white cloth covering the face, with blood seeping through, suggesting that a different professional with a similar name to a doctor might be needed.

The window was sealed, and there was no sign of anyone having entered or exited.

However, there was one more thing at the scene, besides Sir Fawcett, that caught her attention.

A telephone receiver dangling precariously and swaying on the cord.

“Phantom Fist…”

The murder scene witnessed in London immediately surfaced in Watson’s mind.

1. TL/N: Quote seems to be an adaptation of—The great work is not to be done by the few, but by the many. ️

2. TL/N: Murim London’s version of the Dog-Hitting Staff of the Beggars’ Union ️