Enter Into A Marriage Contract With Holmes

　　“Oh my god, have you heard？ Agatha’s fiancee has gone missing？”

　　“What？ Her fiancee is missing？ No wonder she’s looked so listless lately. Have any of you ever met him？”

　　“No, he always comes to the villa for dates with Agatha at night. She accepted his proposal after knowing him for less than half a month.”

　　“Oh, poor Brian. He’s been pursuing Agatha all along—it must be utterly heartbreaking to have his beloved snatched away right before his eyes.”

　　……

　　……

　　The girls’ whispers were soft, but every single word fell distinctly on Agatha’s ears.

　　She was a new college graduate, a young girl who should have had a bright future ahead of her. But on her way to the airport for her graduation trip, she was in a car accident. When she woke up, she found the world she lived in had undergone earth-shaking changes.

　　She was no longer a young, free-spirited girl living in the 21st century, but instead a young maidservant in Victorian-era Britain at the end of the 19th century.

　　At this point, it seems quite necessary to make a formal and vivid introduction of her current identity.

　　Her name is Agatha. At the age of eighteen, she is a maidservant much favored by her master, whose name is Charles Augustus Milwanton, the master of Apuldor Villa.

　　In present-day London, Mr. Milwanton is a dangerous figure who could easily rank among the top ten most notorious criminals in the city.

　　He is an unscrupulous blackmailer, whose safe is filled with the private letters of many London ladies of high society. Those letters contain countless secrets that must never be known to the public, secrets capable of ruining the reputations and lifelong happiness of the women who wrote them.

　　At the same time, he is also a generous patron, always lavish with his rewards for those who provide him with information.

　　One week ago, in the dead of night, Mr. Milwanton was murdered in his villa.

　　The murder of one of London's top ten most dangerous figures, no doubt, shocked the police, who arrived at Apuldor Villa within just two hours.

　　His original self was a housemaid favored by Milwanton, granted the privilege of entering his study.

　　Milwanton was killed in the study, but no valuable items from the household were stolen—only the letters locked in the safe were all thrown into the fireplace and burned.

　　—The perpetrator's aim was not money but the letters in the safe.

　　The maid, who had the privilege of entering the study, was unsurprisingly interrogated by the police. Yet the original said she knew nothing; all she understood was that Milwanton had made his fortune over the years mainly by blackmailing noble ladies and misses for money. With so much wealth accumulated, it was clear he had offended countless noblewomen and misses in his lifetime, and he had long deserved his comeuppance.

　　Though the young maid spoke without reservation, what she knew seemed too scant. From her words, the police could glean only very limited information.

　　It is said that the two perpetrators were male and possessed formidable physical prowess. When one attempted to escape by scaling the wall, a gardener managed to grab him by the ankle, only for the assailant — who was incredibly strong — to fiercely kick the gardener in the head with his free leg. Dazed and seeing stars, the gardener had to let go to protect himself, and thus failed.

　　The criminals were familiar with the layout of the villa, suggesting the crime was committed by someone acquainted with the household.

　　These were the deductions drawn by the police after Milwanton's murder.

　　But despite combing through every man in the villa who fit the description, they still found themselves with no leads.

　　After being interrogated by the police, the original self did not linger at the villa; instead, she went to find her fiancee, Escott.

　　Escott was a plumber on the rise in his career—tall, lean, witty in conversation, and remarkably considerate when chatting with Agatha. She fell for him at first sight, and they quickly tumbled into love.

　　From their declarations of affection to becoming engaged, it took them only half a month.

　　After a night filled with thrills and chills, Agatha naturally thought of her fiancee.

　　That morning, the sun blushed red behind the clouds on the horizon, and the weary young maid left Apuldor Villa to seek out Escott.

　　She went to the address Escott had given her, but her fiancee was nowhere to be found.

　　There was indeed a plumber named Escott there—a dark-skinned, stocky, honest-looking middle-aged man whose stature, age, and appearance were worlds apart from her fiancee's.

　　—It was as if her fiancee had vanished into thin air overnight.

　　The maid was stunned; dragging her exhausted body back to Apuldor Villa, she collapsed into bed and fell asleep.

　　When she next woke, a new soul had taken over her body.

　　It was in that subtle moment that Agatha crossed through time and space, becoming a maid at Apuldor Villa.

　　This was hardly a cause for celebration.

　　Who would be thrilled to time-travel from the civilization of the twenty-first century back to the Victorian era？

　　—Well, she certainly wasn’t.

　　The young girls in the garden were still chattering away, their topic shifting from Agatha's vanished fiancee to the fact that, while her plumber had bolted, Brian still held a candle for her, and—happiest of all—bad fortune had paved the way for a fresh stroke of luck!

　　This was a golden opportunity for Brian.

　　“Sure, a plumber on the rise sounds impressive, but none of us ever laid eyes on him. Brian, who we all know inside and out, is the better catch.”

　　Brian was a long-term servant at Apuldor Villa, close in age to Agatha. He was a tall young man with a chiseled face, a shock of golden hair, and handsome looks to boot.

　　As the coachman of Apuldor Villa, Brian often accompanied Mr. Milwanton on his trips out.

　　But for now, Agatha had no mind to spare for Brian, because the mistress of Apuldor Villa had summoned her.

　　Mrs. Milwanton was an elegant, beautiful woman, every inch the aristocrat.

　　You're a clever and quick-witted young lady," Mrs. Milwanton said to Agatha. "Mr. Milwanton often sings your praises to me. If I leave London, Apuldor Villa will always have a roof over your head."

　　Agatha replied, "… Madam, you're leaving London？"

　　Mrs. Milwanton nodded. "This place has become a land of heartache. The scenes linger, but the people—the people are gone. I have no desire to let the sights rip open old wounds."

　　“But the murderer of Mr. Milwanton hasn't been caught yet.”

　　Mrs. Milwanton's voice was gentle and composed. "Bringing the murderer to justice is a matter for the police, Agatha. Mr. Milwanton's case is now in the hands of the authorities. Mr. Leicester Reed of Scotland Yard is an outstanding detective; I trust he will do his utmost to find the killer responsible for Mr. Milwanton's murder."

　　Agatha was taken aback, looking up at her mistress.

　　When Mr. Milwanton was alive, his wife rarely concerned herself with household affairs. Now that he had been murdered and the perpetrator remained at large, she was content to entrust the weighty task of hunting down the killer to the London police, planning to leave the city behind.

　　The mistress gazed at Agatha, a smile lingering in her eyes, and said, "Agatha, I will be departing next week."

　　The decision was final; her mind was made up.

　　A week ago, when she learned she had become a maid, that her master, steeped in wickedness, had been murdered, and that her fiancee had fled, though her heart was far from pleased, she still accepted it calmly, without a single thought of ending her life.

　　But now, after digesting the full implication of her mistress's words, Agatha actually felt a flicker of despair, as if life were no longer worth living.

　　That was because her identity was that of an orphan, utterly alone and helpless. She had been wandering the streets of London when a whim-driven Mr. Milwanton picked her up and brought her back to Apuldor Villa.

　　At the time, the Milwanton who picked her up and brought her back to Apuldor Villa was not acting out of a surge of kindness; rather, he saw that the golden-haired, blue-eyed little girl had a striking appearance, and taking her in as a maid at the villa seemed like a decent choice.

　　The original self had been a popular girl at Apuldor Villa—she was pretty, not exceptionally clever or quick-witted, but she was greatly favored by Milwanton, who even had his secretary teach her to read and write.

　　Agatha recalled the memories of her original self ingrained in her mind, but they were limited. Yet, one youthful and dashing figure seemed etched into her bones—a man with sharp, intelligent gray eyes who swaggered as he walked.

　　—That was her runaway fiancee, Escott.

　　She was already at the end her rope, with nowhere to go, so why did thoughts of the runaway Escott still surface？

　　Agatha let out a headache-inducing sigh.

　　The mistress spoke in a gentle tone, “Agatha, I hear your fiancee has disappeared？”

　　At the mention of her fiancee, Agatha nodded her heavy head. Then, feeling it was too undignified to admit so bluntly that her fiancee had vanished, she tried to mitigate the damage, saying, “Perhaps he had an urgent matter to attend and left. It was such a hurry there was no chance to notify me.”

　　A young girl can be naive and easily deceived.

　　Even after being lied to, she can't help but make excuses for the other's unfaithfulness and cold-heartedness.

　　The hostess gave a gentle smile. "Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes？"

　　Agatha nodded again. "I have, indeed."

　　The name Sherlock Holmes is thunderously renowned.

　　Even though Agatha before her transmigration wasn't a mystery fanatic, it didn't prevent her from learning quite a bit about this famous detective.

　　Holmes boasts a massive fan base, spanning men, women, the young and the old—admirers and devotees, career fans and lady fans—all kinds of followers. Thanks to his immense charm, he has been adapted to the screen time and again, with a wide array of derivative works.

　　The hostess continued, "Mr. Leicester Reed says that Mr. Holmes is a man of great justice, who has never encountered an enigma he couldn't unravel since he took up the trade. Since your fiancee’s whereabouts are unknown, why not go to him for help？"

　　Agatha：“……”

　　Why use an ox-cleaver to kill a chicken？

　　Holmes enjoys a life of thrills; tracking down a missing plumber is hardly his cup of tea.

　　At that moment, the hostess added, "That gentleman resides at 221B Baker Street in the West End of London. If you need, Brian can escort you there tomorrow for a visit."

　　Sherlock Holmes。

　　Agatha silently repeated that address in her mind, feeling no sense of strangeness. She simply reflected that it probably wouldn’t be easy to convince anyone that she had traveled through time to Victorian-era England.

　　Although she possessed the memories of the original owner, her recent behavior fell short of passing muster. However, everyone around her assumed that the disappearance of her fiancee had dealt her a heavy blow, thus attributing her series of unusual actions to excessive grief.

　　Agatha had originally been racking her brain over how to conceal her identity, but unexpectedly, the people around her turned out to be so considerate and endearing that she decisively chose to become a lazy slacker.

　　Long-term pretense is bound to slip through the cracks in the end.

　　The fiancee’s disappearance and overwhelming blow undoubtedly served as the perfect excuse for her dramatic personality change.

　　Mrs. Milwanton, seeing her silent, assumed she was worried about payment matters. “I’ll take care of paying Mr. Holmes. Agatha, will you go？”

　　In truth, Agatha didn’t want to go.

　　Escott was clearly a smooth-talking swindler in matters of the heart.

　　Yet, the landlady’s kindness was hard to refuse, and she appeared gentle and benevolent: “You have no one to rely on in London. If you can find your fiancee, at least you’ll have a place to stay in London.”

　　It made a great deal of sense.

　　If Agatha refused again, it would seem like there was something wrong with her head.

　　After all, for her at the moment, nothing was as urgent as finding a place to settle down.

　　Brian was a tall young man; though dressed as a worker, he carried himself with the distinctive vigor of youth.

　　Before Mr. Milwanton was murdered, Brian was one of his most trusted men. Like Mr. Milwanton's secretary, he was well-versed in many of his affairs.

　　The mistress instructed him to escort Agatha to Baker Street 221B to visit Holmes.

　　Brian simply found it puzzling.

　　“Sherlock Holmes is indeed remarkable, but not that brilliant. When Mr. Milwanton was alive, he once met with him.”

　　Agatha was slightly surprised. "How did they come to meet？"

　　While driving the carriage, Brian turned his head and said to Agatha, "You must know about Mr. Milwanton's business."

　　Agatha：“……”

　　She didn’t appreciate his words—it made it sound as if she and Mr. Milwanton were in cahoots.

　　Agatha responded coldly, "I'm just a maid tasked with cleaning the study. What am I supposed to know？"

　　That was the truth.

　　Mr. Milw