The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 114: Worthy of Moriarty

Aiwass shot back unceremoniously, “So you’re collaborating with Star Antimony to switch masters?”Neither York nor Boca showed any offense at his words.

Facing two far stronger opponents without a hint of fear or hesitation was the mark of a true Transcendent.

“You’re making quick progress in your investigation,” York sighed, relieved. “Good thing I recruited you directly.”

But Vice President Boca denied it. “Not at all. We’re no blade in Star Antimony’s hand.”

“I heard the leader of the Noble Red Society is a pureblood giant, from Avalon’s old dynasty,” Aiwass said softly.

York smirked. “Do I look like a giant?”

Boca’s stern face curled into a scornful smile. “Since when does a Transcendent group have a permanent ‘leader’? Every one of us sees ourselves as the king of an infinite cosmos—don’t you, too? When have you ever taken us seriously?”

“Lloyd’s Society and Noble Red aren’t the same organization?” Aiwass countered.

York explained, “Some high-ranking members overlap, that’s all. Not everyone in Lloyd’s Society can be a Transcendent—that’d get us noticed by the Inspectorate long ago.”

Boca’s deep voice cut in, resonant and forceful. “Transcendents are always a minority, anywhere. Most lack the will and resolve. The nine paths aren’t for mortals. A Transcendent’s essence is the will to surpass the mundane. A fool’s charge is laughable, a sloth’s resentment meaningless. Only with the resolve to fight stronger foes with weaker means can one step onto the Path of Transcendence.”

Aiwass instantly deduced: of the three executives York asked about—Boca, Forbes, and Ms. Graygreen—only Boca was likely part of Noble Red, possibly alongside President Lloyd.

Lloyd’s Society was internally divided, and so was Noble Red. They weren’t a monolith.

Realizing this, Aiwass’s spirits lifted.

Evidence tying York to Noble Red would need him isolated, but that might not be necessary. If Aiwass could infiltrate Lloyd’s Society or even Noble Red, he could bring out firsthand intel himself.

That would leave York’s fate to Sherlock for personal revenge—a ritualistic touch Aiwass appreciated.

“I have a question, Lawyer York, Mr. Boca,” Aiwass said. “Is President Lloyd part of Noble Red? He’s not a giant, right?”

York glanced hesitantly at Boca, who paused before answering directly, “No, he’s a half-giant, so he’s a Noble Red executive.”

“You’re saying the Lloyd family produced a half-giant?” Aiwass asked.

“You misunderstand, Aiwass,” York clarified. “President Lloyd, like you, is an adopted son. The Lloyd family has a unique rule: they don’t pass down their legacy through blood. Their biological children are given away, taking other surnames. Only the most outstanding adopted child inherits the Lloyd name and Society.

“This fosters ruthless ambition. Lloyd’s Society holds nearly a tenth of Avalon’s wealth. Even a fraction of that, passed down, risks breeding lazy or mild heirs. Every President Lloyd rises from common or even impoverished roots. Having known hunger and poverty, they awaken before such immense wealth and power, evolving like snakes shedding skin.”

“It’s a ritual,” Boca said succinctly. “The ‘Sons of the Serpent’ ritual, distilling others’ Transcendent potential into one. This generation’s President Lloyd is a half-giant. Our ties to Noble Red began with him. Neither York nor I were raised as Noble Red Transcendents.”

[Like raising venomous insects to fight,] Aiwass thought. Typical ruthless merchant behavior.

“So,” he sighed, leaning back, “what do you want me to do?”

Boca and York exchanged a glance. Boca spoke, “Rest assured, Mr. Aiwass, it’s neither dangerous nor cruel. You’re already doing it.”

“Dating Isabel?” Aiwass said dryly.

“No, forget the princess,” Boca said gravely, dismissing the jest. “Just keep investigating Noble Red. We’ll provide limited intel if needed. Next week, or the week after at latest, your dorm at the Royal Law University will be attacked by a group of demonologists. I’ll warn you beforehand.

“Like those who attacked you with the Aberrant Demon or tried to summon a demon with you, they’re not our people. Of those you’ve killed, only the half-elf bartender was ours, and the Pelican Bar was our place.

“You’re already Avalon’s hero, but that’s earned you Noble Red’s enmity. We can boost your reputation, elevating you further. People think Lloyd’s Society is tied to Noble Red, so no one will suspect a demon-fighting hero is one of us. Even if your Transcendent adaptability is exposed, the crown will protect you.

“This requires your consent. We’ll build your fame. Once we defeat the other Noble Red faction and absorb the Society, you’ll publicly support Lloyd’s Society, declaring us unconnected to Noble Red after your ‘investigation.’ Until then, act as our spokesperson, like Prince Lloyd did.

“It’s simple: don’t hit too hard. Let those attacking you flee after losing. The ones from your commendation ceremony were Star Antimony’s demonologists. Next, it’ll be our turn to send people. To be safe, I won’t tell them to hold back, to avoid exposing you if they’re caught.

“I’ll give you their lineup and plans in advance. You can handle it, right? The time after that, you can go all out.”

Aiwass’s fingers, tapping the wheelchair’s armrest, paused briefly.

His eyes widened slightly as realization hit.

Isabel was a decoy—a pretext to probe his motives and stance. Their real interest was his recent “hero” status from fighting demons.

The demonologist master and apprentice who tried to sacrifice him, the Pelican Bar he raided, the Sweater Brotherhood Sherlock uncovered, the Minister of Trade smuggling alchemical bombs, the Aberrant Demon attacking him—Aiwass thought they were one group. But they were two, maybe three factions: Lloyd’s Society members controlling the Strangler Party and smuggling, unaware of deeper plots; local merchant Transcendents secretly allied with Noble Red but not loyal to the pureblood giant; and external Noble Red members manipulated by Star Antimony.

No wonder York was so urgent, why they needed him now, and why force wasn’t an option—they were playing a game of wolves devouring wolves.

The Transcendents in both Lloyd’s Society and Noble Red were a minority, caught between two watchful sides. They needed a spokesperson for their faction, not Lloyd’s Society as a whole.

For this, they’d sacrifice their own to boost Aiwass’s reputation. A tempting offer—cooperation could make him a star, even a prince.

He understood how Prince Lloyd pulled it off: staged performances.

But Aiwass could take the benefits and betray them later. They couldn’t force him; the initiative was his. York’s tactic—using Moriarty’s disappearance and inheritance issues—was true to his style.

Yet a darker thought emerged in Aiwass’s mind. His position was too pivotal.

If played right, he could win on all fronts: claim the heads they offered, pit their factions against each other, help Sherlock exact revenge, and dismantle both organizations to prevent Avalon’s collapse in the coming year’s disaster.

Squinting from his wheelchair, he said slowly, “I’m in. Join Lloyd’s Society publicly, Noble Red secretly without rituals, right? Let me think about my next moves…”

York, visibly relieved, exhaled.

He looked at Aiwass as if seeing the young Moriarty of old.

“We lost one Moriarty, but gained a younger, sharper one!” York leaned forward, flattering enthusiastically. “Your father’s web-like intellect guided us in using intel wisely. Though you’re new, with Boca’s and my endorsement, you’ll reach the top quickly. Lloyd’s Society’s future rests on young talents like you!”

“Indeed,” Aiwass smiled, his words laced with meaning. “I’ll have to work hard.”