𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓

Worthless, Rotten and Ignorant

Warning: Mentions of Opium and drug use along with blades and a racist bitch named Arthur Randall.

It had been about a week since Y/N had suggested she moved into the manor. She was still feeling a tiny bit of regret after leaving Christopher and Alice behind, but they had a pub to take care of. Alice had made her promise to write and visit as much as possible and Christopher had thrown a temper tantrum when Y/N broke the news to him. After Alice had gotten her son calmed down, they helped Y/N pack up the few items she had kept in her room: her nightgown, four simple shirts, four pairs of pants, some socks and her one nice dress. After it was all shoved away in a trunk, Y/N hugged her two friends and said their goodbyes. A few tears were shed before Y/N hailed a taxi. She hugged them all one last time as the driver placed her trunk in the carriage. "I promise, Christopher, I'll visit whenever I can!" The little boy was wrapped around one of Y/N's legs, sobbing his little eyes out. He cried harder, saying something about how she couldn't go, he wanted her to stay forever. Alice managed to pry her son off of Y/N's leg and they waved her off as the taxi drove her away. As she was taken away towards the Phantomhive manor, Y/N thought about how this was the right thing to do. She knew the pros outweighed the cons. This whole thing was her idea, after all. She was the one who asked for it to happen. Y/N sighed as she watched the city streets and buildings slowly fade into rolling hills and fields. "Time to get to work."

Snow had fallen all around them, and winter in Great Britain had become quite beautiful. The white blanket of snow that had accumulated overnight never ceased to amaze Y/N. It made everything look like it was from some festive winter aesthetic board. Even though she knew the city would recover from Jack the Ripper, she had been a bit worried if the people would be ready to celebrate. Apparently nothing was going to keep the people of London from celebrating Christmas, not even the other bodies that began popping up. (though they did seriously dampen the mood). Several bodies had turned up. Literally. Men were being stripped down to their boxers and hung upside down. It would've been quite the mystery if Y/N didn't know exactly who was behind it. She had woken up that morning with a little more pep in her step since she knew who was awaiting her in the streets: an Indian prince named Soma and his servant Agni. After breakfast, Ciel, Sebastian and Y/N all headed to the latest crime scene. Four English men had been strung up outside a Hindustani, a pub that serves Indian food, and all had an identical note attached to the ropes that strung them up. "So what do the notes say?" Y/N asked as she and the Guard Dog made their way into town.

"'Watch this wild, pathetic child of sloth and depravity. To all the idiots of the bitch ruled land, you are the ones who deserve the vengeance of Heaven! England is the motherland of the Devil, who robs off everything and forces its worthless, rotten, and ignorant culture on you instead!' Quite the statement," the Earl concluded.

"Well I hate to state the obvious but the writer is either a foreigner who doesn't practice a Christian or Catholic faith, or someone posing like one. It's made clear that this person holds a grudge against England but they use the phrase 'vengeance of Heaven' when you could just say 'vengeance of God'. Plus, the 'motherland of the Devil' could just be written as 'Hell'. So perhaps this person is one of high class and education, and we can't rule out the possibility that it's an English citizen posing as an angry immigrant." Y/N flipped through news reports of the crime scenes as she thought of other assumptions she could throw out there that wouldn't be suspicious. She didn't want to solve this case before Agni had a chance to redeem himself.

"Well those first two observations are quite obvious, but what makes you think it might be someone pretending to be a foreigner?"

"Well, judging by where the corpses are set and who they were, it's an easy way to eliminate competition. All the men who were killed just returned from India and a good many victims were Anglo-Indians that frequented pubs that served Indian foods. If it's an Indian person it does and doesn't make sense to choose to place their victims in a place where Indian food is served. It makes sense because it's like an insulting imitation of their culture. But at the same time, it's their culture and putting dead bodies in front of it doesn't do it any justice. It would make more sense to say 'Hey this is fake Indian food,' or something rather than put dead bodies hanging by the door." Y/N sighed and put down the papers, rubbing her eyes. "Besides, people stopped going to the pubs where the bodies were hung which means they started going somewhere else. So, another company is benefiting from new customers. Some whole companies were put almost out of business too, while some foreigners might find joy in it, they don't really get anything from this. However, a rival company would."