Miss Holmes, the Professor Is Not a Villain - Miss Holmes, the Professor Is Not a Villain chapter 138

138 – Professor Moriarty, can you prove it? (1)

My vision was dark. It was a natural story. Moriarty himself probably had his eyes closed.

But strangely enough, he felt the movements of those surrounding him vividly.

It’s that dream that’s ruined again.

Moriarty thought. However, he did not open his eyes even when someone reached out a small, soft hand and pulled his hair.

It felt as if there was a small competition going on. The moment I opened my eyes, I felt like another terrible nightmare would begin again.

Children.

Yes, they were children. Surrounding him, several children were chatting with each other, playing house, and stimulating him who remained silent with his eyes closed.

James Moriarty hated children. In fact, there were very few things he liked, so it wasn’t a big deal for him.

Of course, he hated adults too. So he just hated people.

But it was definitely true that children were more troublesome. Because Moriarty was a mathematician, he implicitly considered reason and intuition to be more important, but he did not completely ignore individual experience.

In particular, his thoughts on children came solely from his personal experience.

Irrational beings. Unbelievable beings who use their appearance and age as weapons to justify their irrational behavior.

Every time he met his nephews, Moriarty could feel it. Stupid adults were usually easy to predict, but children who couldn’t communicate properly were the ones who often missed even their attempts.

That’s why he hated children.

But at the same time, he approached it from a different perspective.

‘No, it might still be a little better than stupid adults.’

The privilege of children was that they had not yet grown up. That’s why foolish parents often hope that their child will be different when they grow up, no matter what they are like now.

Moriarty laughed at their belief, but agreed that it was not probabilistically impossible.

I’m sure as I grow up, it might get a little better. If grown adults had no hope of becoming smart, children at least had that faint hope.

For someone who hates stupid beings, children may be better beings. A stupid thought like that suddenly occurred to me. He wanted to burst into laughter without realizing it, but he had to hold back for fear of giving an excuse to these devilish kids who were still playing with him as a toy.

Then something strange happened.

Moriarty himself had obviously closed his eyes, and everything was still dark, but something vague appeared in the darkness, like a ghost.

Surprisingly, it was Professor Dodgson.

Professor Dodgson, get out of here.

He said to himself. In fact, he said he wasn’t dreaming, and maybe he was on drugs or something? Maybe this is a phenomenon that often occurs with drug addicts.

Moriarty regretted, saying that if she had known this would happen, she should have checked the ingredients of the nutritional supplement Moran provided her in more detail. For it was a very vexing and exacting effort to live in this damned English society without a little of her opium.

Professor Dodgson must have heard the harsh words, but he was looking at Moriarty with a happy smile.

I felt bad in many ways. It was as if he was looking at his fellow man.

“Moriarty, you finally understand! Yes, you are right. Children… Girls are wonderful beings with endless potential. Of course, I personally don’t like most boys, but there are some cool little gentlemen……. Yes, just like your son. He’s a cool boy. “The ears and tail are impressive.”

“What now? What are you talking about? “Professor Dodgson, you’re just a crazy pedophile!”

“I am forever grateful, Moriarty, that you finally realized this truth and brought me to meet so many wonderful children. But take note, Moriarty. Growth is…… It’s hell. Children are truly beautiful when they embrace possibility. Just as dreams are beautiful before waking up, children are most beautiful when they are not growing up. But we’re all living in hell, Moriarty. It’s a terrible reality. The unrealized possibility in the unrealized possible world of the Red King is the most beautiful law before it is manifested as the Word and Logos only in the Lord’s thoughts. Just as Achilles cannot catch the tortoise, we all dream of heaven in such hell – this. “I guess, Moriarty, you still haven’t woken up from the dream of the Red King.”

Dodgson’s crazy words made Moriarty ask a question out loud without even realizing it.

But until the end, Dodgson’s illusion disappeared as he said nothing but his own words. In many ways, his attitude was reminiscent of the Mad Hatter in his fairy tales.

But Moriarty’s eyes widened at Dodgson’s nonsense, and he ended up entering a nightmare.

When she opened her eyes, Moriarty saw a wolf kid like she had seen in a dream, smiling brightly, pulling her hair, and surrounding her were several children, three or four years old at most. I was able to see the sight.

For a moment she thought about scolding the boy who was still holding her hair and not willing to let go.

But he couldn’t do that. Carefully, as if out of consideration for the child, he grabbed the child with both arms and gently placed him under the sofa where he was sitting, next to the children.

At that moment, Moriarty had to feel strong anger and shame in his heart.

At this point, she felt like she was forcing herself to play the role of an ordinary father. It shouldn’t have been like that. He couldn’t live such a boring life.

It was just a dream, but even in a dream like this, I didn’t want to feel anything like fatherly love.

From noble mtl dot com

Something like paternal love is at best a chemical reaction created by the brain……. Reproduction is nothing more than a futile and inefficient attempt by the mean and foolish to continue their lives…….

He thought so and tried to escape from the nightmare. The children’s expressions began to darken as their father’s expression suddenly seemed unusual.

– Tak!

However, Moriarty’s attempt ended when someone lightly hit him on the head with the spine of a book. It didn’t hurt too much because it was a very gentle touch, careful not to break it.

But when someone appeared, Moriarty had to struggle to swallow his fear because of the fear and pleasure imprinted on his body.

“I told you to only show a bright expression when you’re with children, professor. “If Dad does that, it’s not good for the children’s education.”

“… Leave something like this hanging? “Are you serious, Miss Watson?”

Horribly, it was Jane Watson.

She was Watson, wearing a plain white dressing gown with a seductive air. However, she seemed to be a little older and more mature than he remembered.

More than anything, it may have been because it was literally an unfamiliar outfit that revealed the inside.

But Moriarty subtly showed his ankle in an attempt to resist and laugh at this ridiculous nightmare.

There were shackles placed there, as if to prove that he always had the same dream.

Watson lightly shrugged her shoulders and laughed at the professor, stopping her daughter from fiddling with her chains as if she was amazed by the shackles on her father’s ankles and hugging her.

“That’s because the professor is being punished. Are you telling me to give up everything and accept this life? “We always tell you that, Professor.”

“Place”

“Write! Even the kids listen, Dad! And this is the professor… It’s because you lost, right? Are you admitting defeat?”

Watson smiled while covering his mouth with his finger as if provoking. However, it was a provocation that Moriarty could not help but overlook.

“Ha… ! I am… I am… Didn’t lose… Uh.”

He spat out as if it had been engraved. It’s also a terrible nightmare. There was no way he could be defeated by anyone.

Yet in this dream, my voice was weak, as if I was putting up a futile resistance, and even when I said the obvious, it was like someone who had almost given up.

“Professor Moriarty, you are not defeated… “Can you prove it?”

And Watson imitated what Moriarty had once said, as if laughing at him.

To be ridiculed even by Watson, I’m really over it.

For a moment, he mocked himself.

Ironically, he had the same opinion as Holmes about Watson.

Watson looked at him with a smile that did not understand the meaning for a moment. He became anxious.

But he was just a defeated dog and couldn’t do anything.

He quietly picked up the two children and, like his mother, told the older children that it was time for a nap and tried to disappear somewhere.

“Mom told me not to cut in line again.”

“It’s okay, neither Holmes nor Moran always take turns. Come on, let’s take a quick nap, right?”

A black-haired girl who resembled Holmes spoke in a slurred but intelligent voice, and Watson responded with a smile.

Moriarty was left alone. But there was nothing he could do. The defeat and humiliation imprinted on my body did not even allow me to escape.