Bailonz Street 13

Ah, that was the problem.

This clever fool is overly principled about such matters. Like any 19th-century man, I suppose, but when Liam really acts like one, I can’t help but feel a bit distanced.

After much self-reproach, Liam said to me, “Jane, let’s go back to Bailonz Street right now.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve just woken up.”

“…I left the ring behind!”

All this fuss over a ring. He was so visibly distressed that I found myself soothingly stroking his back.

“I don’t need a ring.”

“But I had one made for you. I have a ring from Plurititas, but I hate the idea of not having one from me.”

So that was what really bothered him. I discreetly glanced down at the ring on my hand.

I could understand why Liam disliked this ring. It wasn’t just any gem; it resembled the eye colour of Plurititas. It seems he had planned to give me a ring he had prepared himself, but somehow he ended up proposing first.

Honestly, I hadn’t given it much thought. Plurititas didn’t seem particularly interested in me. To him, I was just some ‘curious youth’. He seemed more interested in Jonathan—buying him clothes, meals, even paying him.

Thinking about it again made me angry. That man really knows how to irritate people. The nightmare of that Christmas dinner came creeping back. I felt like I could shoot Plurititas right now if I saw his smirking face.

“I might have to kill Plurititas.”

Even to my extreme declaration, Liam simply nodded.

“I was thinking the same.”

“No, you should be stopping me!”

“Jane, embarrassingly, I’m quite narrow-minded and petty, and I only care about you. I get jealous easily, even if there’s no intention from the other person. And then some guy gives you a ring. Obviously…”

Before he could continue, I pulled him close. My detective, suddenly yanked towards me, finally shut his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his broad back, holding him close. I could hear his heart pounding like a baby bird’s.

“Calm down, Liam.”

It was finally quiet.

“…That’s why I deliberately kept the ring finger on my left hand empty.”

Liam whispered softly as I muttered to myself.

“If you hadn’t proposed, your finger would have been quite lonely.”

“It would have been fun even if we just lived like this.”

Liam chuckled briefly and rested his chin on top of my head.

“That’s true.”

“Still, accept the ring,” he said.

I was already planning to. I intended to show off the wedding ring on my left ring finger to Jefferson and Herschel. I was confident enough to laugh and scrapbook an article titled ‘Liam Moore, Finally Married!’

Suddenly, we heard voices calling for Liam. It was Owen. “Where has that damn fool gone?” he grumbled irritably. As I gave Liam a bewildered look, he began to avert his gaze shamelessly.

“What’s the problem now?”

Around the corner, Owen’s red head appeared.

Eventually, Liam was dragged away by Owen, clutching his ear like a mother leading a wayward son.

As I watched this unfold with great interest, I wasn’t spared either. Two women flanked me, linking arms with mine (“Hey, wait!” I protested), and we began to trudge along.

＊ ＊ ＊

After a long and tedious examination that finally showed no abnormalities, we were free. Liam sprawled comfortably on the sofa.

“Can we go back to Bailonz Street now?”

“Well, that should be fine. The problem is you running off to find trouble, William.”

“Trouble finds me.”

“It’s the same thing.”

Liam smirked. Owen, taking off his gold-rimmed glasses, began massaging the bridge of his nose. His face looked worn, visibly aged, no doubt due to the black-haired young man seated here. We all knew it. Liam protested.

“I rest when I need to.”

Owen laughed incredulously at the unbelievable statement.

“As if you can rest. You’re addicted to work.”

While others get addicted to alcohol or nicotine, this guy was hooked on work, Owen confided in me, not caring that the subject was right there.

“He just storms in, dumps a pile of work, and leaves. Then he gets kidnapped. I go looking for him and find him terribly entangled with beings you should never mess with. Just when I thought we could rest, the lady gets kidnapped twice. I find them and Liam passes out. Almost like he’s dying, you know?”

Indeed, so much had happened in such a short time. Hearing the summary made me wonder how we’d managed all these events in just a few months. Owen’s agitation was hardly surprising.

Owen’s voice trembled.

“I don’t want to be here in Greenwich this often…”

“Owen, it’s your job.”

“A job with no quitting time…”

It was indeed dreadful.

Owen lay sprawled on the sofa, fiddling with his feet before he kicked off his shoes in annoyance. Glasses on his forehead, he covered his eyes with his right hand.

“We can’t just leave The Black King as is anymore.”

“I know.”

“He’s increasingly circling around you and the lady.”

“I know that too.”

Owen sighed heavily.

Liam was silently brooding, his chin propped on his hand. After a while, he finally spoke.

“But there’s no way to resist.”

“He’s too fickle. Either he gets bored and leaves…”

“That’s unlikely.”

I interjected. As if he would get bored and leave.

“A character who threatens to turn the world upside down the moment I stop entertaining him isn’t likely to just walk away.”

“Your popularity is now becoming frightening, miss.”

“Don’t worry, Owen. You’ll get your share of popularity soon.”

Owen chuckled. We spent some time sprawled on the sofa, liberally cursing mythical beings.

Owen said he hadn’t encountered many of these beings. Liam had met quite a few due to case requests. Sometimes they impersonate humans, wearing skin and living among us, unrecognised.

Stories of a hound that bursts from walls to hunt victims relentlessly, a race that collects brains, something that drinks human blood—listening to these, it felt terrifying. Why must monsters overrun a perfectly normal world?

“But the bigger issue is the gods outside.”

I knew that too. The truth in my head told stories of those gods and their worshipers. Thanks to that, I could follow Liam and Owen’s conversation without missing a beat, and simultaneously, I felt disillusioned. Anger towards those who, despite everything, desired power enough to summon such beings.

“It’s strange that those who summon them still exist. We should have eradicated them long ago.”

Owen picked up on Liam’s comment.

“Even if we had, they would have crawled back.”

“Like cockroaches.”

“Honestly, no different.”

We continued, speculating humorously on what the god of cockroaches might look like. Was this some form of blasphemy? Probably. If The Black King or other beings had heard our conversation, they would have wanted to kill us immediately.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Though impossible and merely wishful thinking.

‘If I end this game and leave this bizarre 19th-century London, wouldn’t The Black King give up on me?’

After all, in our world, The Black King is just a fictional character from a novel, known only among certain people and virtually unknown to those like me who have little interest.

In the end, this place is just a world where a writer’s fictional story became reality.

So, if I cross worlds, wouldn’t that entity find no way to follow me? How could it appear in a world without a medium to manifest? In such a world, they would be mere foreigners, just as I am forever a foreigner here.

If there’s no way for them to follow, they’ll naturally lose interest. Initially, they might be furious about my disappearance, but once they realise they can’t follow by any means, they’ll give up.

And since ‘the door’ favours me… It wouldn’t allow any harm to come to me.

So, if I leave, wouldn’t that make this place, and Liam, safe?