Legend Management Bureau Chapter 123

[ … words ]

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this legend…” Du Yu accidentally turned his head and caught sight of the horrific corpse, instantly averting his gaze in fright. “So Lizzie was just the ‘killer’, but you’re the real ‘Ripper’…”

“You know, sir, I needed to make this case more ‘brutal’.” Chada packed the severed lump of flesh into a leather bag, tucked it into her coat, and said to Du Yu, “Things are just about wrapped up now. I need to go ‘dispose’ of this mess. Could you and Miss Shiranui do me a favor?”

“What do you need us to do?” Du Yu asked, slightly taken aback. “We’re complete strangers around here, you know.”

“I need to buy a few things that I didn’t bring with me this time.” Chada looked at Asuka and Du Yu, saying, “A bottle of red ink, a stack of writing paper, and some envelopes. You can find these at the post office.”

With that, she pulled a few coins from her purse and handed them to the pair.

Du Yu gave a slight nod. Dawn had already broken outside, so buying a few items shouldn’t be too difficult.

The group stepped out of the house and parted ways at the door. Chada left the door unlocked so the body would be discovered more easily. Du Yu and Asuka took the main road toward the post office, while Chada and Ramla took the alleyways to ‘dispose’ of the flesh and blood.

The post office was located in a prominent spot on the street, making it easy for the duo to find. Stepping inside, they noticed that even though it was barely light out, there were already people inside.

“Red ink and writing paper.” Asuka grabbed the two items from the shelf but couldn’t find any envelopes. She approached a pretty female clerk and asked, “Hello, do you have any envelopes here?”

“Ah?!” Startled, Asuka hurriedly pulled her hat down lower. Hearing this, Du Yu also quickly adjusted the hat on his own head.

“Are you of some unseen Jewish race? How strange.” The female clerk’s expression grew noticeably guarded. “Do you two have money?”

“Ah! We do!” Asuka, looking utterly spooked, hastily dug out the coins from her pocket and handed them over to the clerk.

Taking the coins, the clerk’s expression softened slightly. She pointed to a table a short distance away and said, “The envelopes are all piled up over there. Go grab them yourselves.”

“What a condescending attitude.” Du Yu shook his head helplessly. “I’ve never experienced racial discrimination back home, yet here I am experiencing it in London two centuries ago.”

Having no other choice, the two walked over to the table themselves, only to find a middle-aged man writing a letter. He had stacked all the available envelopes together to use as a makeshift writing pad under his paper, yet he had barely written a few words.

Du Yu observed his face. The man sported a small mustache, and his eyes darted about uncertainly. He looked rather anxious, as if he were racking his brain trying to figure out what to write.

“Uh, excuse me, big brother,” Du Yu called out. “Could you move a bit? I need to grab something.”

The middle-aged man turned his head to glance at Du Yu, then immediately pretended not to hear him, going back to pondering what to write.

“Big brother, are you listening? You’re leaning on all the envelopes, and I need to buy some.” Du Yu called out again, intentionally raising his voice.

The man turned to look at Du Yu once more, then faced forward and slowly wrote on the paper: “To my dearest mother—”

“Strange, is my translation talisman broken?” Du Yu paused in confusion. “Why can’t this guy understand a word I’m saying?”

Asuka also found it odd. She stepped forward, tapped the middle-aged man on the shoulder, and said, “Hello?”

The man jumped in surprise. He looked back at Asuka and asked, “Oh! Damn it… I mean, beautiful young miss, how can I help… I mean, what can I do for you?”

“Uh… my friend has been calling you for a while now, but you didn’t react. We would like to buy some envelopes…”

“Oh! Oh?” The man’s gaze darted around evasively before landing on Du Yu. “Was he calling me? He is mistaken. I am not his older brother. He has the wrong person.”

Du Yu grumbled inwardly that this cultural gap apparently couldn’t be bridged even with a translation talisman. Was calling someone ‘big brother’ not a thing in the British Empire? Left with no choice, he mimicked Chada’s manner of speaking and said, “Sir, I was indeed calling you.”

“Oh? Oh!” The man appeared to struggle with social interaction. He thought carefully for a moment before asking, “What is the matter, please?”

“No, I’ve already said it a million times.” Du Yu shook his head in exasperation. “Envelopes! We need to buy envelopes!”

The man nodded upon hearing this. “Is that so? Congratulations, this post office does indeed sell envelopes. Please, help yourself.”

Getting a little angry, Du Yu shot back, “Are you looking for trouble? You’re pressing down on all the envelopes…”

Asuka hastily stepped forward and held Du Yu back. “Senior Du Yu, we’re in a foreign land after all. Let’s not cause trouble. This person is acting weird and seems hard to communicate with. At worst, we’ll just wait until he finishes writing to buy them.”

Du Yu felt Asuka made a fair point. Muttering a few curses under his breath, he stepped aside and waited.

He watched as the middle-aged man halted his pen right after writing the words “To my dearest mother.” Du Yu felt incredibly anxious watching him stall.

“Big bro… no, sir, what exactly are you trying to write?” Du Yu asked. “If you really don’t know how to write, you can find someone else to do it for you. You hogging the toilet without taking a… I mean, it’s not good for you to just waste time here.”

“You say I don’t know how to write? Oh? Oh! No, no, no, no.” The man shook his head frantically. “I know how to write. I can write many words. Please do not disturb me.”

‘I don’t want to disturb you either, but you’re being way too annoying,’ Du Yu thought to himself.

“Oh! Right!” The man suddenly seemed to remember something and asked Du Yu, “Sir, you look like a man with good judgment. Do you think I should let him die?”

“Huh?” Du Yu was stunned and instinctively took a step back. “What the hell, are you some kind of demon? A murderer?”

“Demon? Murderer? Me? No, no, no.” The man shook his head and said, “You misunderstand, sir. I am no demon, nor am I a murderer. It is just that there is a certain person who annoys me greatly. He takes up the vast majority of my time, leaving me with no energy to do anything else. That is why I want him dead.”

“Holy crap, that’s exactly what a murderer is!” Du Yu gasped in shock. Why was this place filled with danger everywhere? “However… since you’ve asked so sincerely, I will compassionately give you an answer. If you ask me, people should keep kindness in their hearts. You shouldn’t…”

Du Yu was just about to continue when he suddenly realized something.

If he hadn’t come here, what would this man have decided to do?

No matter what, he shouldn’t interfere with the natural progression of events, or else it would end up just like that time with ‘Bai Suzhen’, inadvertently causing a massive disaster.

“If-if you ask me… you should just follow your own heart and ignore what anyone else thinks,” Du Yu quickly changed his tune. “Just do whatever it is you want to do.”

“Oh? Is that so? Is that what you think?” The man considered it for a moment, then gave a flustered nod. “Thank you, sir. You are right. I shouldn’t care about what others think. I only need to follow my own heart!”

“Yep, yep, yep.” Du Yu nodded along. “That way, none of you can pin the blame on me.”

“Something’s not right!” Dong Qianqiu suddenly cried out in Du Yu’s mind. “I think I’ve seen this man’s photo before! He absolutely cannot ignore what others think! Du Yu, stop him quickly!”

“Huh?!” Du Yu blanked. “Sister Qianqiu, you even know murderers from the nineteenth century?”

“Murderer, my foot! I’ll explain it to you later, but you need to stop him right now! That man must take other people’s opinions into consideration!”

Du Yu knew that whenever Dong Qianqiu panicked, it was definitely a major issue. He hurriedly turned back to look at the man, only to find that after receiving Du Yu’s ‘guidance’, the man seemed to have been struck by a burst of inspiration, filling up an entire page in mere moments.

Du Yu peered closely, but realized he couldn’t understand a single word past the opening “To my dearest mother.” The translation talisman could only translate spoken words, not written text. He quickly turned his head and asked, “Asuka, do you know English?”

“A little bit. Let me take a look.” Shiranui Asuka stepped forward. After reading for a moment, her brow furrowed. Seeing her expression, Du Yu knew he might have caused some serious trouble. He listened as she slowly read aloud:

“To my dearest mother, it has been a long time since I last wrote to you. I hope you are doing well. After much deliberation, I have decided to let ‘Sherlock Holmes’ die. Writing these stories has truly consumed the vast majority of my time, and I now have no time left to do anything else. Although many readers have written to me expressing their deep fondness for this character, someone told me today that I shouldn’t care about the opinions of others and should only do what I like. You know I cannot give up my entire life for ‘Sherlock Holmes’. Once I finish writing this piece, I will surely come to visit you. Wishing you all the best once again. —Yours most affectionately, Arthur Conan Doyle.”

“Holy crap!” Du Yu roared. “Who did you say?!”

Never expecting to have caused such a massive catastrophe again, Du Yu rushed forward and grabbed the man. “Big bro! Brother Doyle! I was just joking with you earlier! Why did you take it seriously? You absolutely cannot have this kind of thought! You definitely can’t bury ‘Sherlock Holmes’ right here!”

But the man acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. He held the finished letter up, blew on the ink to dry it, folded it, and slipped it into an envelope. He turned, grabbed Du Yu’s hand, and said, “Sir, thank you so much for today!”

With that said, he stepped to the side, skillfully affixed a stamp, and dropped the letter into the mailbox.

“No, big bro.” Du Yu shook his head helplessly and said, “Aren’t you being far too fragile? Just because ‘Sherlock Holmes’ takes up too much of your time, you’re going to kill him off? Do you have any idea how popular this character remains even centuries from now?”

“Oh?” Hearing Du Yu say this, the man finally seemed to understand something. He looked at Du Yu and asked, “What do you mean, sir?”

“I don’t even know how to persuade you anymore. I know an author whose novel consumes most of his time too, and barely anyone even reads it. But I’ve never seen him just outright kill his main character. Isn’t that just rushing to a terrible ending? Isn’t that just axing the story halfway?” Du Yu grumbled irritably. “Whatever, you’re the author. You hold the power of life and death over your characters. If you really think it’s the right choice, then follow your idea. But I firmly believe the most fundamental duty of an author is to be responsible to their work and responsible to their readers. Otherwise, they aren’t even fit to be called an author.”