The Shepherds Are Dense-Chapter 40: A Great Detective with the Body of a Child and the Mind of an Adult

"That’s not necessarily true… little detective."
Aiwass slightly curled his lips and responded in a low voice,
"Are you sure it's okay not to sell us your newspaper?"
This boy with reddish-brown curly hair, a face full of freckles, a slender and small body that looked no older than seven or eight years old…
Must be Sherlock.
Aiwass recognized Sherlock the moment he got off the carriage.
Because Sherlock wasn’t hiding at all.
He hadn’t even properly played his assumed role.
As a newsboy, he wasn’t actively trying to sell newspapers.
Instead, he hid calmly and silently in the shade, scanning every passerby with his sharp and gloomy eyes.
His gaze was like a cold blade, making passersby visibly uncomfortable.
Several people looked toward him in surprise and wariness, and only when they saw it was a sullen child did they ease up slightly.
"Fox, you're sharp… but you're probably a newbie, right?"
The boy let out a dismissive snort,
"Let me teach you something. In most cases, not playing your role isn’t a problem.
"Although ‘playing the role’ is a required task, failure isn't about acting poorly—it's about being questioned or exposed.
"I'm just a newsboy. Even if standing around here doing nothing seems odd, who’s really going to step up and say, ‘You don’t seem like a real newsboy’? No one cares about me… because I’m insignificant."
"I see…"
Aiwass pondered briefly, then gave a bright, warm smile.
"Then would it be correct to say that if I silence everyone who might question me—make sure they can’t speak—then I won’t need to worry about being exposed?"
"Yeah, that’s right. But with your ability, I doubt you could pull it off."
Sherlock, appearing in the form of a young boy, didn’t flinch at Aiwass’s sinister implication.
He calmly analyzed,
"That old man probably did exactly that.
"He arrived first, meaning he’s also from Avalon. With us unable to share intel and the task telling us to go to Gallows Square, he likely inferred from the phrase ‘prepare for battle’ that the unified goal is to ‘obtain weapons.’
Then from the most efficient way to acquire weapons—‘black market trade’—he’d recall the Pelican Bar mentioned in the paper.
"Thinking further, he could assume others also need weapons and would think of the black market too—thus guessing they'd gather at the Pelican Bar. Compared to ‘weapons,’ allies are more valuable.
Whether he’s on the first or second floor, he’d head straight for the Pelican Bar. And this place is on the way there."
"But ‘Bone Carver’ didn’t come here."
"Right. That suggests he doesn’t intend to work with us…
Or he assumes anyone gathering here has already abandoned the Dusk Path.
Even if they come, they’re not reliable teammates."
"…So, Detective, you predicted we’d come here?"
Lulu couldn’t help but whisper,
"Then if the Bone Carver doesn’t come… were you planning to team up with the three of us plus the Knight?"
"Actually, my plan was to regroup here with just the Knight and Fox.
You weren’t part of it."
Sherlock’s expression remained cold.
"Your appearance with Fox was unexpected.
"While I hold no hostility toward Dusk Path transcendents of Beauty—pardon me for being blunt—if you’d appeared alone, without Fox, I doubt you’d have thought to wait outside the Pelican Bar."
"…Ugh."
Lulu let out a quiet whimper.
The voluptuous and beautiful woman wore an expression of girlish helplessness.
Because she knew—Sherlock was right.
"But that’s not the whole story,"
Aiwass suddenly added,
"It’s not just that he knew he wouldn’t find teammates here."
Little Sherlock turned to him with a hint of surprise.
The boy spoke in a childish voice, his tone mature and chilling,
"Go on, I’m listening."
"You were interested in Bone Carver’s cane earlier.
The Apostle said the only items allowed into the ritual are transcendental items crafted by our own hands—
Meaning his cane isn’t ordinary, but a Dusk Path artifact.
But since this is his first advancement ritual, he must’ve only recently set foot on the Dusk Path.
I suspect his cane was crafted using human bone."
"To be precise, it’s made from a fully extracted spine."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows and precisely elaborated,
"Female, between eighteen and twenty-six.
Never did hard labor.
Minimal signs of physical training, but likely spent long hours writing or studying—slightly hunchbacked.
"Could’ve been a student, artist, or writer.
Middle-class origin.
Probably a local of Glass Island.
Most likely a recent graduate who was seduced onto the Dusk Path.
Being able to make a transcendental item so soon means he was already practicing bone carving or sculpting beforehand and was well-versed in crafting.
"So, he’s likely a crafter from the Balance, Beauty, or Transcendence Paths."
He glanced at Lulu.
"My guess is Beauty Path.
He might be a sculptor or maybe a collector.
"Understand now, Fox?
Allies from the Beauty Path aren’t reliable.
When they’re weak, they seem normal—but their senses are too keen, their nerves too fragile.
They easily lose control and go mad, becoming unstable elements in the advancement ritual.
"A seasoned follower of Beauty can become indifferent to life.
They prize art above law or morality.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to observe the world through pure ‘beauty’ and deepen their path."
"That’s not always true…"
Lulu reflexively protested,
"I’ve met some truly kind masters of art…"
"I know,"
The newsboy nodded calmly.
"So have I.
And you’re an exception.
To me, you don’t qualify as a true Beauty Path believer.
You value morality… that’s a good thing."
"…You just said that’s dangerous."
"They’re not mutually exclusive."
The boy didn’t bother explaining further.
He fell into his own thoughts, muttering under his breath,
"When I get back, I’ll check the missing persons records at the Inspectorate. Maybe it’ll inspire me…
"For someone his age to suddenly step onto the Dusk Path… was it a terminal illness?
Or maybe a sense of life slipping away?
Did he crave survival?
No heir to pass his legacy to?
Or greedy children fighting over his inheritance?"
"…If it’s an elderly artist from Glass Island,"
Lulu, who had been ignored, mustered her courage and whispered,
"It might be Old Lars.
He was diagnosed with bone cancer this summer."
"Old Lars?"
Sherlock froze for a moment before realization struck.
"Lars Graham? Didn’t he make that sculpture for the Queen—"
He abruptly cut himself off.
His gaze toward Lulu deepened into silence.
Aiwass also looked at her.
…Well, damn.
This automatic spoiler machine can spoil
other people’s
secrets too?
So Her Highness the Princess even comes with this function.
"…The Knight still hasn’t arrived.
Maybe he didn’t figure it out.
He seems a bit careless."
Sherlock suddenly shifted tone,
"But just the three of us is fine. Stay close to me…"
His strategy changed from prioritizing the Knight and Fox to prioritizing those already here: Fox and Lulu.
Clearly, Sherlock had figured out Lulu was Princess Isabel.
For him, that wasn’t hard.
Fortunately, Sherlock was loyal to the Crown.
Aiwass knew his father had once been a minister,
But was framed and caught in a scandal.
Queen Sophia had personally pardoned his father, earning Sherlock’s loyalty.
Since then, Sherlock had been secretly working for the royal family.
The Queen would sometimes involve him in secret investigations—for his reliability and discretion.
So he knew more royal secrets than most.
And at this point in time, that identity was still secret.
Even Isabel herself probably didn’t know yet.
I see now…
Aiwass realized the truth.
Before he changed history and inserted himself into this advancement ritual he wasn’t supposed to attend—
Princess Isabel must’ve won this ritual thanks to Sherlock’s help.
Just then—
The three of them suddenly fell silent.
Because at the same time, a clear bell tolled in their minds.
No one else seemed to hear it—only the three of them.
A few seconds later, another bell rang.
"…That’s the death knell."
The boy’s face turned serious.
"Bad news… or maybe good news.
Two people have been eliminated.
Your chances of passing the ritual just increased."
"Two?"
Lulu instinctively looked at Aiwass.
"Do you think they were together too?"
She’d almost said:
‘Were they a couple?’
But the thought was too embarrassing, and she swallowed it.
Aiwass asked the boy,
"What does the death knell mean?
Exposed, or dead?"
"Dead.
If someone’s identity is exposed, the rest of us would hear laughter instead."
Sherlock’s speech sped up rapidly.
"It’s only been one hour—we’ve got three left.
And the killer already made a move.
Two people together still couldn’t defend themselves.
On ‘safe’ difficulty, we’re only supposed to face one enemy—not even a strong one.
Something we could easily handle if we worked together.
"Assuming Bone Carver is acting alone,
Among the rest, only the Love Path girl and the Balance Path drug seller have low combat strength.
Everyone else should be capable.
"Unless… it
was
those two who met the enemy together…"
"—Which would mean the monster killed them both in quick succession."
Aiwass followed up,
"Fast enough that the second didn’t even escape."
"It must’ve been a sneak attack."
Sherlock concluded,
"And since they never showed up at Law Square, the enemy likely wasn’t waiting here.
This may actually be the safe zone.
The enemy might only appear at the end."
"Not necessarily."
The young priest lowered his gaze and offered another theory.
"They could’ve been foreigners who ran into the Stranglers.
They don’t know Avalon."
"Yeah, you’re right."
The boy nodded, glancing around warily.
"Anyway—watch the shadows and corners.
I’ll walk in front so I don’t get dragged off without you noticing."
"Where are we going?"
Lulu whispered.
"The Pelican Bar—
Now give me a reason to take you there."
Hearing Sherlock’s cue, the young priest’s face lit up with a warm smile.
"You’re very polite, little sir.
May the Candlebearer bless you."
Aiwass raised his voice just enough for those nearby to hear.
"Thank you for the kind words about my wife—it's so hot today, how about I buy you a drink? Anything you’d like?"
"…Don’t give me alcohol, Fox."
Little Sherlock muttered under his breath,
"I can only drink milk right now…
Alcohol messes with my intellect and weakens my spells."
"Then how about milk?
You’re too young to drink anyway."
Aiwass followed the lead naturally.
"…I know a bar."
Sherlock returned to a normal speaking voice and said with a child’s tone,
"We call it the Pelican Bar!"
Hearing Sherlock’s awkwardly childish voice, Aiwass’s expression turned subtly odd.
You know, you
really
don’t have to act if you can’t, Mr. Sherlock.
That fake voice is giving me flashbacks…
To another famous detective with the body of a child and mind of an adult.
Just then, another somber bell rang.
Aiwass’s face grew grim.
—The third person was dead.
Barely two minutes had passed since the last.
"Wait,"
Sherlock’s expression changed instantly.
He dropped the act altogether.
"Something’s wrong!
The deaths are too fast!"
Two could’ve been ambushed together.
The second killed while fleeing.
—But with only one enemy, having three people die in a row made no sense!
This wasn’t a kill-or-be-killed competition.
All nine of them had been dropped at different locations with different roles.
The difficulty of this ritual was clearly abnormal.
—Was it because of Sherlock or Bone Carver?
Did their presence buff the enemy’s strength?
Aiwass quickly realized something else.
He’d assumed the first two deaths were foreigners.
But with three, that couldn’t be assumed.
The Knight still hadn’t come.
Maybe he
had
planned to go to the Pelican Bar—
But was ambushed along the way and possibly already dead!
Where had they gone?
"We can’t go to the Pelican Bar anymore.
It’s not guaranteed safe.
If we’re blocked in, we won’t be able to escape.
If the Knight’s dead, we’re down to the detective’s spells—
And first-tier spell strength isn’t enough."
Aiwass immediately changed plans and smoothly took over leadership from Sherlock.
"—We’ll take a detour.
Hide out and see if more people die.
I know a secret tunnel nearby. Follow me."
End of Chapter 40