Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 297 A Great Cause!
When Norman MacLeod spoke of "A Study in Scarlet," his eyes lit up: "Yesterday's sales figures have just come out!"
Reprinted! Third reprint! Still in short supply! All bookstores and newsstands are urging for more stock!

Manchester, Birmingham, Edinburgh... My God, even Dublin is receiving orders like snowflakes!
I dare say this issue's sales will definitely break the record previously set by *A Study in Scarlet* itself!

He picked up the latest copy of "Good Words" from the table and slammed his fist on the pages of "The Rules of a Master Detective": "This is the key! Lionel, this is the key!"
You're a genius! With this set of rules, those poorly made pirated copies will immediately become garbage in the ditch!

Nobody talks about that imposter who only knew how to shoot and mess around with women anymore! Now everyone's talking about cigar ash, and everyone wants to be the 'master detective'!

His face glowed with a rosy light, filled with the joy of victory.

Lionel wasn't concerned with the sales figures he mentioned; instead, he asked, "What about Scotland Yard? What was their reaction?"

Norman McLeod grinned smugly: "Ha! Just look at the faces of those idiots at Scotland Yard right now! I saw them with my own eyes yesterday!"
Their reception area was packed with citizens, all demanding to know if they had 'Mr. Holmes's criminal database'!
Howard Vincent, that arrogant guy, must be raging in his office like a cat whose tail has been stepped on, but he's helpless!

A bunch of ignorant bureaucrats! They deserve it!

Norman McLeod became more and more agitated as he spoke, as if he were venting all the frustration he had suffered: "They think that denial and refutation will solve the problem."
Times have changed! We live in the age of knowledge, the age of logic! Readers have voted with their feet, choosing smarter and more interesting content!
Scotland Yard? Hmph, they're only fit to eat our Holmes' ashes!

He leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face, as if he had already achieved a complete victory over Scotland Yard.

Lionel then slowly spoke: "Dear Norman, please arrange a meeting for me with this 'Howard Vincent'."

Norman McLeod nearly jumped up upon hearing this: "Meet? Am I deaf?"

Lionel smiled and said, "Norman, your hearing is excellent. I do wish to meet him."

Norman McLeod hummed for a moment before finally managing to squeeze out a sentence: "Can you tell me why?"

Lionel considered for a moment, then explained to him, "If you really want the influence of 'Sherlock Holmes' to last, to transcend a single novel—"

Therefore, we shouldn't just settle for mocking and belittling Scotland Yard, turning it into a joke.

Dr. McLeod looked at Lionel with a puzzled expression, as if he hadn't heard what he was saying.

Lionel met his gaze and calmly repeated, "Make an appointment for me, and we'll go together."

Norman McLeod opened his mouth, but ultimately nodded: "Okay..."

------

In a small club near Whitechapel in East London.

A group of young people, no less than thirty or forty, were plotting something in the living room.

Among them, the most conspicuous was Arthur Conan Doyle, who stood in the center of the crowd, dressed in a respectable suit.

"Gentlemen!" Conan Doyle spoke, his voice not loud, but it immediately silenced the whispers.

He looked around at the crowd and said, “I have brought a message from Mr. Lionel Sorel.”

Upon hearing the name, all the young people's eyes lit up.

Conan Doyle said, "Mr. Sorel already knows what happened at the tavern last time—and he's very unhappy!"

A sigh of frustration rang out, and several people almost buried their heads under the table. Being rejected by someone you admire is far more unpleasant than being disciplined by the school.

Conan Doyle softened his tone: "Mr. Sorel believes that violence runs counter to the rational spirit represented by Sherlock Holmes."

Holmes always solved problems with his mind, not his fists. He hopes you can focus your energy in the right direction.

Silence fell in the corner, the young people hung their heads in dejection, like a group of scolded schoolchildren.

Just then, Conan Doyle changed the subject: "But!"

Everyone looked up.

Conan Doyle's voice rose: "But he also saw your energy!"

He believes you can find other ways to truly help 'Sherlock Holmes' achieve great things!

A young student couldn't help but ask, "A great undertaking? Like, Mr. Doyle? How should we do it?"

Instead of answering directly, Conan Doyle asked, "Have you read the latest 'Rules of the Detective'?"

Everyone exclaimed in unison, "Of course!" Their faces regained their radiance.

That article opened up a whole new world for them, taking their admiration for "deductive reasoning" to a whole new level.

Conan Doyle lowered his voice and began to coax, "Lionel hopes... that we can work together to build a real, comprehensive 'crime database' for 'Sherlock Holmes'!"

"A criminal database?!" This word made all the young people hold their breath.

Isn't this the temple of knowledge they imagined, which only exists in novels, symbolizing the ultimate rationality?
Conan Doyle nodded firmly: "That's right! This is not about sending you to risk your lives to investigate crimes."

Instead, we'll utilize your advantages and knowledge as medical students to collect and organize the basic information that constitutes the 'traces'!

He jumped directly onto an empty chair, like a general issuing a mobilization order: "Think about it, gentlemen!"

In the anatomy room, in the pathology lab, in the pharmacy... what can you come into contact with?
You can record the wound morphology left by different knives on different tissues! You can record the subtle symptoms in laboratory animals at different doses of different poisons!

You can collect soil samples from different areas of London, analyze their color, texture, and composition, and create a 'London Soil Map'!
You can document the unique calluses, scars, and deformities left on the hands by different professions! Carpenters, blacksmiths, typesetters, violinists...

Their hands are their resume! You can study the morphology of different fibers and dust particles under a microscope!
Record the smells and properties of various paints, oil stains, and chemicals! Even... the different types of blood splatter patterns!

Conan Doyle went on and on, listing all the information gathering approaches that Lionel and he had discussed.

With each item mentioned, the young students' eyes lit up even more.

These are no longer unrealistic fantasies, but scientific practices that they can personally participate in!
This is a thousand times more meaningful than fighting in a tavern!
The world depicted in "The Rules of the Detective" seems to be opening its doors to them through Conan Doyle's words!
Passion reignited on their faces, burning even more intensely than before.

Seeing that the time was right, Conan Doyle made his final and most tempting promise.

Before he could even utter a word, he had already anticipated the medical students' reactions...

(End of this chapter)