Henry Jekyll, the only son of a wealthy man, inherited a colossal fortune. Wishing to benefit society, he generously spent funds on charity, and it was in this field that his friendship with Holmes began.
"So, you met Mr. Jekyll through this work?" Mash asked.
"Of course. Every time I took on a case, he volunteered to be my informant. We are bound by more than ordinary ties."
Holmes, hurrying to Jekyll's house, visibly darkened at Mash's question.
"It was commendable that he provided information, but he began to delve too deeply into the nature of crimes. I became worried and sent him to France to relax... Who knew he would become a regular at the red-light districts."
Led by Holmes, Ritsuka's group stopped before a huge mansion shrouded in dense fog.
"Wow! What a behemoth. There must be a basement here. And in the basement, a torture chamber where people are kidnapped and tortured. I read it in books!" Dedchu offered his theory.
Mash, seeing Holmes's reaction, glanced at him guiltily. Ritsuka couldn't help but say:
"Isn't that a rather bold assumption?"
"No! My neurons say so. I swear on Uncle Ben's honor! Okay, just kidding. My stomach's just tingling. Gut feeling, you know? Want to touch my belly?"
When Dedchu suddenly thrust out his furry belly, Ritsuka politely declined with a bewildered look.
"The front door is just open," Holmes noted.
As soon as he touched the door, it gave way. Passing through the front yard, they reached the porch.
"The entrance door is also wide open."
It seemed someone had broken into Jekyll's house.
"Mod, if we go in, check the second floor. You three, follow me."
"Understood, Master," Mordred replied.
She usually answered lazily, but this time she took Holmes's order with all seriousness.
"Let's go to the study."
While Mordred, drawing her sword, went upstairs, Holmes headed for the study, where Jekyll spent most of his time. Dirty footprints stretched from the entrance hall.
"Be careful. Judging by the disordered pattern of footsteps, someone was being chased."
The study door opened cautiously. As Holmes expected, the floor was strewn with books, and the window was wide open – the cold fog swayed the curtains.
"Hmm. For someone fleeing a chase, there's not much destruction here," he muttered.
"The dirt tracks stop before the study, and the books are scattered strangely," Dedchu added.
"If you're being chased, you instinctively try to barricade the door with a wardrobe or a sofa. And the furniture is in its place."
The deduction session began. Dedchu, having inexplicably produced a detective cap and magnifying glass, started examining the scene.
"The furniture is in order, books all around, and an open window. As if someone tried with all their might to stage an escape through the street..."
"Oh! My stomach's itching again. And the smell... " Dedchu sniffed. "Phew! Oh, excuse me. That was me farting."
While Dedchu was calmly rubbing his stomach, Holmes discovered a stain of some liquid in the corner.
"This isn't blood. Slippery, sticky, viscous. The smell... Hmm. The taste... Khm-khm."
Having tasted the substance and momentarily lost in thought, Holmes wiped his fingers with a handkerchief.
"Did you find anything out?" asked Ritsuka, who, along with Mash, was mesmerized by the work of this strange duo.
"It smells of machine oil. It's lubricant used in London factories to prevent gears from rusting. But how did it get here... Oh!"
At the word "gears," Ritsuka, Mash, and Holmes's eyes widened simultaneously. The only gears they knew of were...
"Mod!"
Holmes sharply shouted the name of Mordred, who had gone upstairs. At that very moment, a terrible crash echoed from the second floor. The group rushed up the stairs.
"You scoundrels! You dared to attack from an ambush?!"
Mordred, who had been inspecting Jekyll's bedroom, encountered a group of clockwork dolls pretending to be mannequins. She had broken through the wall and was now fighting them off in the corridor.
"Hey, Master! It looks like they're behind this."
"Destroy them, Mordred. Try to take one alive for interrogation."
"That's exactly what I was waiting for, Master!"
Mordred's armor shifted, her helmet clicked shut, and scarlet magical energy erupted from her.
"Miss Mordred! I'll cover you!"
Mash stood shoulder to shoulder with her, raising her shield.
"I'll... I'll kill them too!"
"Wade, stay put. What are you going to do in that body?" Ritsuka grabbed Dedchu, who was eager to join the fight, by the scruff of his neck.
Mordred swung her sword against the clockwork dolls twitching in unnatural spasms. Under the scarlet flashes of the blade, the puppets shattered, unable to resist.
"Mash, let's go!"
At Mordred's command, Mash raised her shield, blocking an attack from four opponents at once. Then came the coordinated action: a sword strike from the left, a shield bash from the right. Mash neatly severed the limbs of one doll, leaving it for capture.
"Kid, your Servant is no pushover. Her movements are honed, and she wields that thing without the slightest effort. Want a smoke?"
"Uh... I'm underage."
"Then give it to me! Me! Me! Me-me-me!"
While the two Servants were achieving victory, Holmes leaned casually against the corridor wall and lit his pipe. He even rolled a cigarette for Dedchu and offered a light.
"Making yourselves comfortable! We're fighting tooth and nail here, and this guy, calling himself a 'Master,' is standing aside and smoking! He could at least provide support!"
Having finished with the dolls, Mordred lunged at Holmes, who was simply enjoying tobacco instead of helping.
"There are advantages to a Servant contract. They can be ill-tempered at times, but they usually obey orders. Convenient to operate, haha."
"What did you say?!"
"I command you with a Command Spell. Mordred, bring me a light."
"Don't waste Command Spells on such nonsense!"
When Holmes demonstrated the back of his hand, an enraged Mordred slammed her gauntlet directly into his nose. Otherwise, his face would have turned to mush, but she clearly held back, limiting herself to a broken nose.
"Ouch-ouch... Hmm... But it's strange. I asked for fire, and I smell burning. You're quite capable, Mod."
"Idiot! It wasn't me!"
"Oh, it really does smell like burning. And I hear crackling... from downstairs..."
Dedchu, sniffing, peered down the stairwell.
"Hey, Holmes. Looks like we have enough fire here for a whole pack of cigarettes."
"...! Everyone outside! Quickly!"
The first floor was engulfed in flames. The owner of the house was nowhere to be seen, and besides the clockwork dolls, no one else was inside. This meant the arson was committed from the outside.
Holmes immediately looked out the window. He noticed several people in black gas masks: they were finishing the contents of canisters, throwing torches, and running towards a carriage.
"Mod! Chase the carriage!"
"And what about you, Master?"
"I'll get out myself, hurry!"
"O-okay. Don't get yourself roasted in there!"
The fire instantly reached the second floor. Mordred, suppressing her anxiety, jumped out the window and rushed after the departing carriage.
"Mr. Holmes, and we..."
"Take your Master and go! I still have business here, don't worry about me, faster!"
The ceiling of the second floor was already beginning to crumble under the onslaught of flames. A little more, and the mansion would collapse like a house of cards.
"Senpai, hold on tight!"
Mash scooped Ritsuka up by the waist. Shielding them, she kicked out the window frame and jumped down.
"Why aren't you leaving?" Holmes asked Dedchu.
"My stomach's churning too. I need to find something, don't I?"
Dedchu's detective fervor suddenly awakened, and he, along with Holmes, rushed into Jekyll's burning bedroom.
"Look for letters! Whole ones, burnt ones – grab everything you see!"
Dedchu began scooping papers from the table in armfuls. Holmes also frantically gathered scattered notes from the desk, even those already licked by the flames, and hid them inside his coat.
"Mommy!"
The bedroom ceiling collapsed. The heat became unbearable, smoke filled their lungs. Noticing a blanket not yet touched by fire, Holmes quickly threw it over himself.
"What are you planning?!" Dedchu shouted, jumping onto his shoulder.
Holmes focused his clouded gaze on the exit.
"We're jumping!"
Wrapped in the blanket, he dashed forward. In the same instant, the roof of Jekyll's mansion finally collapsed inward.
"Yowch!"
With a short cry, Holmes flew out of the second-story window and, curled into a blanket cocoon, crashed to the ground.
"Mr. Holmes!"
Mash, who had been anxiously waiting by the house, ran up to the fallen bundle with relief.
"Are you alright?"
Ritsuka pulled back the edge of the blanket. Swaying, Holmes got up, his eyes wide with shock. He shook his head and, unable to withstand the dizziness, sank to the ground.
"At least we survived..."
After all the commotion, sooty and soaked in sweat, the friends returned to Baker Street. Groaning wearily, they collapsed into armchairs.
"Master, are you alive?! Damn, I chased them so hard I overturned the carriage in my haste. And those who survived immediately killed themselves. Cunning bastards..."
Mordred, who had returned from the pursuit, was angry with herself: she wanted to interrogate the prisoners, but they had instantly crushed poison capsules. The expedition had been almost fruitless.
"Well, not entirely fruitless. Come on, hand it over."
Holmes, having taken his usual dose of morphine, in a semi-conscious state snatched a scrap of paper from Mordred's hands.
"Hmm. It seems they were well-trained. But the fact that they didn't manage to destroy this is our luck..."
The contents of the letter in Holmes's hands read:
"Provoke H.
Use him to find and eliminate V. Find V's legacy and complete the plan of the Four Demons. Give B the next order. Incite the Butcher, let him rage. In case of capture – suicide. This is an order to burn. M."