My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 163 is actually Sherlock Holmes?
After a while, Jules stood at the entrance of the manor, playing with the count's coat of arms he had just received, his face still showing some strangeness.

He didn't expect the Prince of Wales to be serious.

Although he has not yet been officially recognized as a count, the other party has already sent him a unique count's coat of arms, which is tantamount to acknowledging his count status.

The subsequent request for investiture was merely a formality.

"I wonder what Baron Bennett's reaction will be when he finds out that Blankauer has inexplicably gained another earl..."

Jules was somewhat amused and exasperated.

Ram, however, examined the count's coat of arms with great excitement, saying:

"An earl's coat of arms! With this coat of arms, our family will be a force to be reckoned with for generations to come!"

Jules, however, simply shook his head at Lam's excitement and said:

"Even England is in turmoil, let alone a mere earl?"

Ram was taken aback, not understanding why Jules said that.

In his view, the empire is now incredibly prosperous, even at its highest level in history, with its domestic technological development at its peak and its foreign expansion and numerous overseas colonies.

How could it be in such a precarious state?
But he also understood that perhaps Mr. Jules and His Highness the Prince had some unknown information, and that his own understanding was merely narrow.

Just then, a greeting rang out:

“Baron, oh no, Earl, I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

The Prince of Wales approached with a smile, glancing at Rame as he said:
"The Cavendish family's actions undoubtedly violated the laws established at the time, which prohibited any form of human trafficking."

Therefore, in order to resolve this matter, I specifically contacted a detective who, with the assistance of a specialist, will disguise himself as a servant of the Cavendish family to infiltrate the house and search for evidence.

Yule raised his eyebrows and said:

"From obtaining evidence to actually filing a lawsuit..."

"Don't worry, go ahead and do it."

The Prince of Wales simply said meaningfully:
"As long as no one dies, I can handle all the subsequent troubles."

Jules smiled slightly and nodded.

"That would be troublesome."

The Prince of Wales looked around, and after confirming that no one was there, he whispered:

"Furthermore, please come to me tomorrow to discuss the matter of rescuing the 'centipede'."

Jules' eyes narrowed, and he nodded without making a sound.

……

In a fragrant café on a London high street.

Jules lay listlessly in a coffee shop chair, waiting for the detective whom the Prince of Wales had arranged to meet.

Although theoretically all that's needed is for the detective to enter, he also needs to get information about the case from Ram and Jules, which is why this meeting was arranged.

The café was specially chosen; it's a property of the Prince of Wales, so there's no risk of information leaks.

Ram stood respectfully beside him like a true servant.

Even though Jules said it wasn't necessary, Lam insisted on doing it—according to him, he had no other way to repay Jules.

Unfortunately, Jules had no choice but to comply with Ram's wishes.

"Why haven't you come yet..."

Jules unfolded his pocket watch and glanced at it—there were only two minutes left until the agreed time.

The steam from the coffee he had ordered in advance had dissipated considerably.

Just as he was wondering when the detective would arrive, his gaze casually swept across the glass exterior of the café.

He was stunned.

He suddenly saw a familiar figure—quiet and neat, wearing a tweed coat and a single-breasted overcoat.

It was Sherlock Holmes!

At that moment, he was walking towards the entrance of the coffee shop on his own.

"No way, the detective the Prince of Wales hired is Sherlock Holmes, isn't he?" Jules suddenly had a bad feeling.

He remembered that Holmes had said he was taking on some royal work—could it be?
Sure enough, as soon as Holmes reached the door, he scanned his surroundings with his deep-set eyes.

He spotted Jules immediately, and a faint smile involuntarily appeared on his lips.

Jules held his coffee cup suspended in mid-air, staring directly at Holmes.

After Holmes approached, he gazed into the man's eyes and said:
"I didn't expect it to be you."

Holmes also said calmly:

"That makes sense, doesn't it?"

After looking at each other for a while, they both laughed at the same time.

"sit down."

Jules gestured to the seat next to him, and Holmes sat down without hesitation, sizing up Rame and saying:

“It seems that your servant is more like him than before.”

Ram nodded humbly:

"This time, we're all counting on the detective."

He didn't recognize the detective in front of him, but since he was an old acquaintance of Mr. Jules, he must be quite capable.

Holmes leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze sweeping over Ram, then turning to Jules, his tone calm:

"Alright, Earl, tell me the details. I need all the specifics."

Jules glanced at Ram and gestured:
"You tell Mr. Holmes what happened."

Ram took a deep breath, suppressing his excitement and anger, and whispered:
“Sir, my sister was sold to the Cavendish family by Prince Dorr’s men. They say she was ‘rented,’ but I know she was certainly treated like a slave there and suffered inhuman torture!”

His voice trembled slightly:

"I just want to get her out of here, please help me!"

Holmes' eyes flickered slightly, and he nodded:
"The Cavendish family, hmm... I've heard of their reputation, not exactly stellar. Details? The exact time and place of her sale, any names you know related to her, and why she was sold?"

Ram recalled for a moment, then said in a deep voice:

"They set up a scam that broke my family apart, left me penniless and burdened with huge debts, and kidnapped my sister to coerce me into paying back the money."

A few days ago, Uriel—Prince Dor's men—sold her, his excuse being that he 'could not refuse' the requests of the nobles.

As for the specific address, all I know is that she was taken to the Cavendish family's estate in London's West End.

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Holmes:

"This is the address and the return request written by Uriel."

Holmes took the paper, glanced at it quickly, folded it, put it in his coat pocket, and said casually:

“Very good, that’s enough. With this information, it won’t be difficult for me to infiltrate as a servant.”

Jules picked up his coffee, took a sip, and smiled as he said:
"To be honest, I didn't expect it to be you at first—Sherlock Holmes. What was your reaction when the Prince of Wales contacted you?"

Holmes' lips curled slightly, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes:
"When the Prince sent someone, I was smoking my pipe on Baker Street, pondering a boring inheritance case."

As soon as his letter arrived, I knew this matter was far more interesting than the inheritance; although it involved a complex power struggle, at least it wasn't directly related to another prince.

Jules knew that Holmes was secretly blaming the previous "murder case".

Then, Holmes took a sip of his coffee and said leisurely:

"Actually, I'm more curious about how you gained that prince's trust."

There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Jules shrugged and smiled faintly:

"Sometimes, the authenticity of an identity is not important; what matters is whether it can bring value."

“Indeed, a logical explanation.” Holmes laughed as well.

After he finished speaking, the scene fell silent for a moment.

The three of them looked at each other in silence, falling into an eerie stillness.

Finally, Jules spoke softly, breaking the eerie silence:
"Anyway, thank you very much." Holmes finished his coffee in one gulp and said with a faint smile:

"It's just my job. My interest is in solving all sorts of interesting cases."

“No, not that,” Jules shook his head slightly. “I mean what you told me before.”

After what happened next, he realized that it would probably take Holmes quite a bit of effort to gather that information.

Moreover, Rutos said that he was only spared from becoming homeless thanks to Holmes's help.

Therefore, the other party must have secretly helped Lolita and Matilda as well.

Holmes lowered his head and chuckled:

"If you want to thank me, it's simple—are you interested in working together to crack this human trafficking case?"

Jules paused, his hand still holding his coffee, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When do you plan to take action?

“It’s tonight,” Holmes glanced at Ram, a rare hint of pity appearing in his usually emotionless eyes, “that poor little girl will likely suffer even more torment with each passing day.”

"If we delay any longer, we might only find corpses when we get there."

Upon hearing this, Ram trembled.

Jules pursed his lips and said:
"You've become more sentimental than before."

Having spent considerable time with Holmes, he could naturally discern the changes in the latter.

Holmes sighed helplessly and chuckled:

"The closer I get to the light of reason, the more I appreciate the preciousness of human sensibility."

Jules' eyes flickered slightly upon hearing this.

Holmes did indeed seem more mysterious and unpredictable to him.

"You got promoted?"

“Second order.” Holmes smiled and snapped his fingers.

The shadow cast by the wooden table suddenly began to twist, sprouting fingers that then gently lifted the shadow of the coffee cup.

The coffee cup itself is thus suspended in mid-air.

Seeing this, Jules nodded slightly:
"That means they have some ability to pose a threat."

For a first-tier Light-type transcendent being to inflict effective damage, only a gun can do so.

But this kind of thing is clearly not suitable for infiltrating the Cavendish family.

"Let's not delay, let's go now."

Holmes stood up, glanced at Ram, and said solemnly:

"On this trip, it will be just me and Jules. You will wait for me at my office—but remember, I have something to tell you..."

……

That night.

At the entrance to Cavendish Estate in London's West End.

With the help of the Prince of Wales's men, Holmes and Jules easily blended into the Cavendish family's shopping entourage.

They wore simple gray coats, wide-brimmed hats, and their faces were smeared with dust, as if they had just returned from the market. Their baskets were filled with vegetables and bread, and on the surface they looked no different from ordinary purchasing servants.

The night was deep, and the lights at the manor gate were dim. Two guards were checking each returning servant.

Jules bent down to tidy his basket, glancing at Holmes out of the corner of his eye, and sighed inwardly.

Holmes's disguise was perfect—not only did his appearance become rough and ordinary, but even his gait became more like that of a servant.

If he weren't familiar with the man, he would never have recognized him as the Baker Street detective.

His disguise was done with the help of the Prince of Wales's men; while still skillful, it was clearly not quite on par with Sherlock Holmes's.

Jules couldn't help but whisper:

"Next time there's a similar job, why don't you come and help me?"

Holmes's lips curled slightly, and he lowered his voice:
"It's just a few tricks, I can teach you."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the guards in front of him, and reminded them:
"Pay attention, it's our turn."

The line moved forward slowly, and soon it was the two people's turn.

The guard was a tall, middle-aged man with a cold gaze, holding a roster in his hand, while another guard carried a lantern to illuminate their faces.

Jules calmly handed over the basket, and the guard glanced at it briefly, confirming that it contained only ordinary fruits and vegetables, before waving for them to pass.

“Next.” The guard’s tone was curt, his gaze shifting to Holmes.

Holmes bowed his head and handed over the basket with a slightly respectful gesture, his movements as natural as a servant accustomed to hard labor.

During the examination, he deliberately coughed twice, appearing somewhat tired.

The guard examined the basket on his back, frowned, and asked:

Why are you shopping so late tonight?

Holmes whispered:
"The market was crowded, which caused a slight delay. Madam is in a hurry for fresh bread."

These were all pre-rehearsed lines.

His tone was humble, with a hint of ingratiating smile.

The guard snorted, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and waved for them to pass.

"Send all of these to the warehouse; someone will sort them out later."

The two nodded repeatedly and entered Cavendish Manor without any trouble.

Bright lights and extravagant luxury—this was Jules' impression of the Cavendish family after a few quick tours.

It can be said that the luxury of the buildings here surpasses even that of the Royal Estate of Loren.

Holmes looked around and casually remarked:

"Look at that piece of paper again. Who did Uriel sell that little girl to?"

Jules glanced at it and said:
"Baron Delos Cavendish".

"Let's go then. I've already found the baron's residence," Holmes said calmly.

Under the starry night, two figures avoided the dazzling gold and glitter along the way, hiding in the shadows and darkness as they slowly moved forward.

……

Inside the storage room.

A thin, poorly clothed little girl crouched in an iron cage, chained around her neck, her eyes vacant.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, followed by a command:
"Lina, the master has finished his meal. Get ready."

Hearing the butler's voice outside, her empty eyes suddenly trembled, and a few tears welled up.

"……Um."

Lina huddled in the corner of the iron cage, reaching out to touch the cold iron bars—how many days had it been?
She doesn't remember either.

In the endless, beastly venting of desires, time has long lost its meaning.

All Lina knew was that she was cold, hungry, and thirsty.

The day before yesterday, I was punished by being denied food for two days simply because I hesitated a little.

She simply couldn't imagine what her life would be like in the future—that bastard Uriel, he never kept his word!
Lina saw the image of Ram, her brother who would always stand up for her even if the sky were to fall.

After their parents passed away, it was the older brother who took on the responsibility of supporting the family.

Will I ever see my brother again?
Tears blurred her vision:
"I miss you so much……"

……

At that moment, Ram was sitting in Holmes's detective agency, his face serious.

Holmes told him that a less-than-friendly "employer" would be coming to the door that night.

(End of this chapter)