Despite the two figures — Miss Justice and Mr. Hanged Man — continuing their exchange with Mr. Fool, asking whether this gathering would become a regular, weekly meeting, Moriarty paid little attention. He only half-listened, just enough to grasp the gist of their words, while his mind worked restlessly in the background, dissecting every fragment of information he had gathered so far.
The Fool. The very first card in the Tarot — symbol of beginnings, infinite possibility, innocence, and an unbound spirit. If Mr. Fool truly embodied his name, then he was likely someone powerful, yet unconstrained by convention; benevolent, perhaps, but unpredictable. Moriarty had already deduced that Beyonders — individuals wielding supernatural powers — were real in this world. Logically, that implied the existence of gods as well, beings who stood even higher. And if Mr. Fool presided over this mysterious congregation, then he must either be one of them… or something dangerously close.
"How about you, sir?" The young lady seated beside him finally spoke, her tone polite yet edged with curiosity. She and the man across from her — now known as Miss Justice and Mr. Hanged Man — both turned their attention to him, waiting expectantly for his answer.
"Ah, my apologies," Moriarty said, breaking from his thoughts with a faint smile. "I was momentarily lost in my thoughts. Hmm… I suppose— The Devil. You may refer to me as Mr. Devil."
A brief silence followed. Miss Justice froze, eyes widening in surprise, while Mr. Hanged Man's posture stiffened — wary, guarded, his shoulders taut as if bracing for a threat.
But Moriarty hadn't chosen the name for its menace or flair. No — it was irony. His true name, William James Moriarty, already bore the weight of infamy in another world — the name of a criminal mastermind from a book that did not exist here. Adopting Mr. Devil as his codename would divert suspicion, allowing him to move unseen behind the mask of a harmless eccentric.
Yet the choice carried a deeper resonance. In Tarot, The Devil reversed symbolized freedom — liberation from bondage, the breaking of chains, the overcoming of temptation and comfort alike. To Moriarty, comfort was the greatest of addictions. He refused to grow complacent in this new world's ease. He would return home. And perhaps… this gathering, this summons through the fog, might be the very key to doing so.
"Haha, my apologies," Moriarty added with a hearty laugh. "My choice must seem odd, but I've always liked the meaning of the card when read upside down — that's all."
Miss Justice's shoulders relaxed slightly at his disarming tone, though Mr. Hanged Man's eyes still lingered on him, cautious and uncertain.
"Let's end today's gathering here," came Mr. Fool's calm, resonant voice.
"By your will," the three replied in unison, bowing their heads toward him.
And then — the fog dissolved. The surreal, suspended space collapsed into nothingness, leaving Moriarty once more alone in his quiet office, as though he had never left.
Reclining in his chair, Moriarty rubbed at his eyes, exhaling slowly. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as a dry chuckle escaped him.
"It all finally makes sense," he murmured.
He felt it then — a faint warmth stirring in his chest, spreading like slow-burning embers. Excitement and unease mingled together, threading through his thoughts.
Ever since awakening in this world, he had been thrust into an odd, uncanny yet mundanely familiar scene — the crime scene of his own death. Though framed to look like a suicide, he had already dismissed the notion. Still, something about it gnawed at him endlessly. How?
How had the killer entered his room without his awareness? They couldn't have been there beforehand — and Moriarty, cautious to a fault, would never host a guest in his private quarters. A man of his standing would receive visitors properly, in a lounge, over tea — not amidst his reports and papers.
That impossible detail, that unexplainable intrusion, had haunted him since the beginning. Yet now… strangely enough, it had been answered by an even greater mystery.
The gathering with Mr. Fool — this secret Tarot Club — had revealed the truth hidden beneath the ordinary façade of this world.
The killer had been a Beyonder.