Chapter 24:
Beneath the brief inscription of time and place, the final line was elegantly signed with the name James Moriarty.
Upon confirming the sender’s name, Helena’s eyes widened.
“Baron James Moriarty? Do you know this man?”
James Moriarty was a well-known figure in society.
As heir to an old noble family, a passionate patron of young artists, and most famously, possessing a beauty so striking it bordered on seductive—
…No one could imagine that he was, in fact, the king of the back alleys.
“Well, that is…”
Just as I was about to respond to her curious gaze,
Red letters slowly began to appear on the invitation I held.
…A kind of hidden message from the “King.”
[Yesterday’s enemy may be today’s ally.]
Could it be suggesting I join hands with Moriarty?
I pondered the phrase several times, but it failed to resonate with me.
Weighing the pros and cons of cooperating with Baron Moriarty was useless—my fear of him far outweighed any benefit.
‘It’s best not to associate with such a dangerous person in the first place.’
With that conclusion, I threw the invitation from Baron Moriarty straight into the trash bin.
The very next day after receiving the ominous invitation from James Moriarty—
I began a full-scale investigation.
My target: the “living statues” located at Greyfriars’ Priory Kirkyard.
For this task, I borrowed a bit of Jimmy’s help.
“Huh? You want to actually see those statues move?”
When I told him I wanted to use the strange phenomenon as material for my next novel and experience it myself, Jimmy clicked his tongue in disbelief.
“If you end up fainting from fright, don’t blame me. I warned you.”
“I won’t faint.”
“Hah, do you think I’m joking? Even I’ve got nerves of steel, you know.”
Despite Jimmy’s repeated objections, I stood my ground.
Based on what I had gathered so far—including what I learned from Simon Amrit, or rather, James Moriarty, during the MacMurrin Art Awards—
There seemed to be two conditions required to witness the strange phenomenon of the “living statues” firsthand:
You must be alone in the graveyard.
You must keep your eyes closed.
My rationale for deeming it safe was simple:
“The statues’ purpose is only to reveal hidden truths, right?”
They had never harmed anyone before, so I assumed they wouldn’t now either.
But Jimmy was still adamant.
“But Emily, what if something happens to you—”
“It won’t.”
“Even if you don’t get hurt, what if you faint? Someone has to be there to help you.”
He sighed deeply, clearly frustrated.
I nodded quietly—he did have a point.
‘It’s not like I can die for good anyway.’
Perhaps because of that mindset, I’d developed a kind of safety numbness ever since I began looping through time.
In any case—
Jimmy and I agreed that we’d arrive at the cemetery together, but I’d enter alone. If something happened, I’d fire a signal flare.
And now, it was 11 PM. We stood at the gates of what was considered the most cursed cemetery in Britain.
Jimmy told the coachman to return in an hour, then turned to me.
“Got it? I’ll be right here the whole time, so if anything happens, use this.”
He handed me a flare gun—who knows where he got it.
I glanced at it briefly, then looked up.
“Thanks, Jimmy.”
“No need to thank me. Oh, and some of the juniors mentioned that the cemetery caretaker recently changed.”
“Really?”
It didn’t matter to me, but Jimmy seemed disappointed.
“Yeah. The new guy’s not from around here, and people say he’s creepy. Gives off weird vibes.”
“So what? It’s not like he’s going to hurt me.”
“Still. The old guy used to be pretty friendly with me… I’d feel a lot better if he were still around.”
Jimmy added that he had met the old caretaker through a friend named Willy, the one who first told him about the living statues.
“Willy knows everyone. He’s super friendly too.”
“Does he work at the university too?”
“No, he left a while ago to open a clinic in his hometown.”
Jimmy tilted his head thoughtfully.
“Come to think of it, I haven’t heard from him in a while… which is weird. He’s not the type to go quiet.”
He looked back at the flare gun in my hand.
“Anyway, don’t lose this. And be careful, okay?”
What was with this subtle babying?
I gave a small laugh and nodded.
As I stepped out of the carriage and walked toward the gate, Jimmy’s gaze followed me the entire way.
‘He really does worry too much.’
He was probably afraid I’d pass out from fear at the cemetery.
But at this point, a graveyard felt like home to me.
‘And besides, I’m wearing hunting trousers and a jacket today—super easy to move around in.’
With confident steps, I entered the graveyard.
Tombstones of all shapes and sizes filled the dark landscape.
Gnarled trees, looking like mythical monsters, stood twisted and dead.
The eerie cries of crows echoed from somewhere unseen.
It was exactly as creepy and grim as the stories said it would be, and yet—
“Why does it feel so familiar?”
Maybe it was because I had seen too many horrors ever since I was chosen as an Apostle of the Yellow King.
Compared to that, this was nothing.
As I walked deeper in, I found the statues in question.
‘So this is them.’
A priest with half his face broken off.
Devotees with missing limbs—an arm here, a leg there, a hand gone.
And the “Blind Accuser” who stared at me with hollow eyes.
I stopped in front of them and murmured quietly,
“Take me to the truth.”
Then, I closed my eyes.
Darkness.
Total, absolute darkness.
Was it because the night was so dark?
‘How long am I supposed to stay like this?’
It hadn’t even been a minute, yet the thought already crossed my mind.
The damp, heavy air wrapped around me.
The distant cawing of crows.
A foul, metallic scent I hadn’t noticed with my eyes open.
Every sense except sight warned me:
…Get out of here now.
‘No.’
Maybe 30 seconds passed.
My palms began to sweat from the tension, but I couldn’t back down now.
‘I got the Yellow King’s command, didn’t I?’
Then—
Swish.
…A faint presence.
I perked up my ears and realized: it wasn’t just a feeling. Something was really there.
Something was approaching.
But unlike a living thing, it had no warmth, no scent.
‘This is it…’
I reached out slowly.
Then—
A chill ran down my spine as my fingers touched something cold and solid.
All around me, silence fell.
I slowly opened my eyes.
I was ready for this—mentally prepared.
And yet—
“…!”
The grotesque statue stood inches from my face.
I instinctively gasped.
“…”
My heart pounded, pulsing with a growing fear from deep inside.
But I ignored it and examined the statue.
‘It’s the priest…’
The older-looking priest statue with half its face shattered.
It was facing me directly, and its intact hand was pointing somewhere.
‘That direction is…’
About 200 feet away stood another statue.
That one pointed to a third statue farther off.
The third, in turn, pointed to a fourth statue in the distance.
I slowly walked toward the last one.
Missing a leg, the statue seemed unsteady, its face etched with pain and sorrow as it gestured toward something.
“What are you pointing at…?”
The moment I followed the line of its finger—I realized where I was.
It was none other than…
“The mortuary!”
Panic and dread instantly clenched my chest.
It looked like a normal building, but the stench of death leaked from inside.
Hoo, hoo.
I took a few deep breaths to regain composure.
The statues had guided me to the mortuary’s back door.
‘Jimmy said civilians aren’t allowed to enter from this side.’
Even he, coming for autopsies with the professor’s permission, only used the front.
But I wasn’t one to back down from something like that.
‘Let’s go.’
Luckily, the back door was half open. I slipped in quietly, avoiding any noise.
Inside, the air was dim and thick with the stench of death. It made me nauseous.
Only a single oil lamp flickered in the distance as I carefully moved forward.
I passed through a long, narrow hallway.
Then, finally, a wide space appeared.
“…”
Dozens of coffins lined the room, capturing my gaze.
From one that wasn’t properly closed, a shadowy silhouette peeked through.
‘Inside that is…’
Just imagining what it could be made my heart nearly burst.
Then—
A hand landed on my shoulder with a thud.
Flinch!
“…!”
I barely held in a scream as I turned around—very slowly.
