Hearing this, Russell's movements betrayed not a hint of panic.
He even held the lipstick up solemnly before him, as if admiring a work of art.
"If I say yes, would Miss Morstan be willing to part with it and give it to me?"
His voice carried a smile, sounding somewhat distorted and playful through the mask.
"That won't do. This lipstick is very expensive; I only use it for important occasions." Mary shook her head gently.
"Not even for the sake of me returning your brooch?"
"Returning something after stealing it can hardly be considered a praiseworthy act," Mary said faintly. "Furthermore, climbing onto a lady's boudoir windowsill is generally defined as harassment, not a greeting, Mr. Moriarty."
"That only shows that the person defining the term lacks imagination."
Russell shrugged, then, under her gaze, stuffed the lipstick into his pocket.
"I believe I said that lipstick cannot be given to you, didn't I?"
"I know."
"Then why did you put it in your pocket so brazenly?"
"You refusing to give it to me has nothing to do with me just stealing it, does it?" Russell retorted, his tone self-righteous.
Hearing this, the smile on Mary's face froze for a moment—how could there be such a shameless person in the world?
[Mary Morstan feels a trace of absurdity at your shameless behavior. Malice Points +50]
Heh, she's agitated.
Russell couldn't help but laugh.
"It seems the Phantom Thief, famous at Scotland Yard, lacks some basic common sense regarding morality and the rule of law."
Mary drained the black tea in her cup. The warm liquid slid down her throat, dispelling the chill in her body.
Then, speaking as she went, she walked into the room and closed the door behind her.
Click.
The sound of the lock clicking shut was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.
Russell remained where he stood, showing no intention of fleeing. He even crossed his arms with interest, watching Mary walk towards him step by step.
Under Russell's gaze, she bent down, picked up a cane by the table, deftly twirled it in a sword flourish, and then pointed the tip straight at him.
"If you don't mind, do you need me to provide you with some basic education? Though the process might be a bit painful."
Hearing this, Russell raised an eyebrow. He glanced first at the girl before him, then at the weapon in her hand.
He had to admit, judging by her stance, Mary didn't seem to be all show.
At least, Russell dared say he couldn't pull off those moves she just executed. That would require at least two or three years of self-defense training.
But if she thought this level was enough to make him fear her, she was looking down on him a bit too much.
"To be tutored one-on-one by the daughter of the Morstan family... that is an opportunity many noble sons couldn't beg for."
He spoke frivolously, completely ignoring the cane pointed at his face, dancing wildly on Mary's minefield.
"I wonder if I could ask the beautiful and elegant Miss Mary Morstan to teach me how to become someone like you?"
He said, then paused, and added:
"A... smooth-talking social butterfly?"
When that last word floated lightly from Russell's mouth, the air in the room seemed to freeze instantly.
The faint smile on Mary's face vanished completely, replaced by an extreme coldness.
Deep within those azure eyes, a storm seemed to be brewing.
The cane in her hand trembled slightly, the tip inching closer to Russell's mask; he could almost feel the chilling cold radiating from the metal.
[Mary Morstan feels intense anger at your offensive remarks. Malice Points +100]
Here it comes, the big one is coming.
Russell was ecstatic inside, but his face remained a mask of reckless amusement. He even leaned forward slightly, actively bringing himself closer to the cold tip of the cane, as if inviting her to pierce his mask.
"What's wrong, Miss Morstan? You don't look very happy. Did I say something wrong?"
He lowered his voice, his tone filled with feigned innocence and provocation. "If I apologize, would you feel better?"
"Apologize?"
Mary repeated the word. She didn't retreat, nor did she strike immediately. She just stared dead at Russell with both eyes, as if trying to see his true face through the mask.
"If apologies were useful, what need would there be for Scotland Yard, Mr. Moriarty?"
"What if?" Russell spread his hands. "Ladies are always magnanimous, aren't they?"
With every word he spoke, the temperature in Mary's eyes dropped a degree, and his Malice Points rose a notch.
[Mary Morstan has reached the limit of her tolerance for your behavior. Malice Points +150]
The prize pool is still accumulating!
The girl spoke no more, but the atmospheric pressure in the room was low enough to be suffocating.
Then, without warning, without any superfluous movement.
The cane in her hand turned into a swift streak of silver light, striking at a tricky angle straight for the wrist of the hand holding the lipstick!
Fast! Ruthless! Precise!
The speed of this strike far exceeded Russell's expectations, but before she even moved, he had already rolled away to create distance.
Not because his reaction was that fast, but because the moment Mary struck, the System's notification sound rang out in Russell's mind once again—
[Mary Morstan intends to attack you. Malice Points +100]
Thanks to this prompt, he reacted in time. Otherwise, if he got hit by that thing, it would probably hurt a bit.
"Attacking without even a greeting—where is your chivalry?"
While dodging, Russell didn't forget to continue provoking her.
"Why talk about chivalry with a lady?"
Mary spoke while her hands never stopped moving, wielding the weapon to create the sound of breaking wind, but each time Russell dodged by a hair's breadth.
"I've figured it out, Mr. Moriarty."
The girl's voice sounded again, devoid of any emotion.
"You don't lack common sense, nor do you lack etiquette. You simply... lack discipline."
As her voice fell, Mary's footwork suddenly changed.
She no longer used wide, sweeping strikes but pressed in close. The cane in her hand was like a spiritual snake flicking its tongue; every tap, stab, and thrust precisely sealed off all of Russell's possible escape routes.
Her offense was like a tightening net, and Russell was the trapped beast within it.
"Tsk, you really show no mercy."
Russell complained with his mouth, but his body shifted and turned within mere millimeters. Every seemingly perilous dodge just happened to avoid the cane's edge.
He was like a clown dancing on the tip of a blade—his posture wretched, yet he remained truly unharmed.
This was thanks to his practically cheating System notification sounds.
[Mary Morstan intends to attack your left shoulder. Malice Points +20]
[Mary Morstan intends to sweep your lower body. Malice Points +30]
[Mary Morstan's patience is running out. Malice Points +50]
Listening to the melodious sound of accounts tallying up in his mind, Russell's mood was excellent.
He even had the leisure to observe the room's layout, thinking about which angle of escape would look more dashing later.
However, just then, the System notification rang again.
[Mary Morstan is preparing to pierce your kidney. Malice Points +150]
Hm?
Playing this rough?!
Russell's pupils suddenly contracted.
Isn't this getting a bit too intense?
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