Arthur, the branch manager of a small bank far from London, opened the front door with a heavy heart, carrying a package that had arrived at his home that day.
There, waiting for him with her bags packed, was his wife, Mabel.
"Dear, you're home?"
"Oh, my wife... so you're finally leaving."
"You're unbelievable."
Mabel looked at her tearful husband with an exasperated expression.
"We're not getting divorced! I'm just going back home to visit my parents for a while, why are you crying?"
"But, oh dear. I don't want to be apart from you and the kids."
"Then you should have finished the procedures quickly."
Mabel chuckled helplessly and hugged her husband tightly. How could he be so childish at his age?
As she released the hug, she noticed what he was holding and asked,
"What's that package?"
"Oh, it's for John."
"For John?"
Mabel asked, puzzled.
Why would a package be sent to a three-year-old, especially from the homeland?
Arthur shrugged and said,
"Who knows. Did you enter something in John's name? It's from Bentley and Son Publishers."
"Bentley and Son? Could it be..."
Mabel clapped her hands and carefully took the package from Arthur, opening the box cautiously.
As expected, inside was the latest volume of Peter Perry, one of the novels she regularly read to the children.
"What a surprise!"
"You remember a few months ago when John excitedly said, 'I think this novel will go this way and that way'? I wrote a letter to the publisher in John's name."
"Ah~"
While Arthur marvelled, their eldest son, John, toddled out of the room on his stubby legs.
"Daddy, you're home?"
"Oh, John! Our little genius!"
Arthur laughed heartily as he lifted his son.
Most parents believe their child is a genius. But Arthur was convinced.
His son was truly a genius.
How else could a child, not even three, show such interest in books, read them constantly, and even predict the plot?
Mabel also smiled and approached John, saying,
"John, the book you've been wanting has arrived."
"Peter Perry?!"
John beamed with a bright smile.
Never getting it wrong, he immediately guessed correctly.
Unaware of his parents' thoughts, John's excited demeanour made Arthur and Mabel exchange bittersweet smiles.
"We can read one book before you go, right?"
"Of course. John loves it so much."
Great! Arthur clenched his fist in his mind.
However, Mabel felt a bit anxious.
'What if John is disappointed?'
Though raised on a rural farm, Mabel was an intellectual who majored in Latin and botany. She wasn't just any woman to have become the wife of Arthur, a young branch manager even at the far southern tip of Africa.
So she knew. As her husband said, John had a genius streak.
Especially, he had a natural talent for understanding and constructing stories.
John's predicted story of Peter Perry was quite plausible. Though some details were different due to a lack of reference understanding, the main arcs were similar.
But what about this time... Mabel, too, opened the book with great anticipation.
However,
"Ah."
It was different. No, the main arcs were similar, but with more numerous, subtle variations, making it impossible to predict the next part even if you knew it.
It's similar but different, how should she convey this?
"Mommy?"
"Oh, John. Sorry. I'll read it now."
Mabel nodded after a moment of hesitation.
Even if it wasn't as expected, she couldn't just not read it to him when he was waiting so eagerly. Eventually, she began reading the 7th volume of Peter Perry to her son.
The story was spectacular.
And as it progressed, it became even deeper.
Her voice started to tremble as she continued reading, realizing the plot twists were even more significant than anticipated, with Lys betraying Peter, and Alvis, who had been defeated in the past, reappearing.
Fear gripped her.
How would the child take this? Would he be disappointed that it differed from his expectations?
And looking at the child's face with such worries, she saw only excitement.
"Wow!"
His face was filled with pure interest.
He wasn't just enjoying the story; his expression was like that of someone discovering a new toy.
"Is it fun, John?"
"Yeah!!"
John's teal eyes sparkled like a summer lake, infinitely clear.
***
In stark contrast to John's peaceful enjoyment, this story was setting London ablaze. Literally, in a frenzy.
"What... what is this?"
"Lys... Lys was the Demon King?!"
"This is unbelievable!!"
Lys, the sylph of the library.
Though not heavily featured, he provided crucial answers at key moments.
With a timid yet endearing personality, Lys was a popular supporting character, almost rivalling the main trio in popularity. His role as a mascot, contrasting with the proactive Winky, was well-loved.
Had sylphs not been established as genderless, he might have sparked a love triangle with Iruril and Marv.
But to reveal such a beloved character as a villain who had been plotting to betray Peter from the start?
The Hanslow Jin fandom was in shock over this rollercoaster twist.
Even artisans who used Lys's illustrations for handmade accessories and commercial products were in turmoil.
Of course, these were mostly illegal, copyright-violating products, so there was no recourse with Bentley Publishers or Hanslow Jin, adding to the chaos.
However, not all Hanslow fans were upset.
"Well, you should have seen the foreshadowing."
"Yeah, Lys always seemed sneaky, popping in and out like that!"
"By the way, is Alvis's return for real?"
"There was a reason he was so cool and aloof in the side story!"
While Lys's popularity was a hot topic, Alvis's return as a significant villain from the first volume was even more talked about.
Especially since, in a magazine side story, he had drifted to the human world, had healing conversations with a simple country girl named Nora, and started a path of repentance by burning an old subordinate. This 'bad boy' character had rapidly gained popularity among teens.
Not only had he returned to the main story to help Peter defeat the Demon King Oberon, but he quietly vanished towards Nora's village instead of returning to the dwarf kingdom after everything was over, deeply moving readers. Simply put, his coolness exploded.
Starting with fairy tales, Peter Perry's readers, growing older and drawn to more rebellious, antisocial themes, found Alvis's character perfectly captivating.
"Kids these days! Do any of you even understand true romance!?"
"Seriously, old man, do you even have any left in you?"
Naturally, factions formed.
But conflicts among Hanslow Jin fans never lasted long.
Lys's betrayal, Alvis's return.
Though shocking, these were overshadowed by the issue at the end of Volume 7.
─To all readers who have loved the Peter Perry series, the next installment will be the final one...
"What, what is this!?"
"Peter Perry is ending?!"
Even with Vincent Villiers and DawnBringer, the core of Hanslow Jin was Peter Perry.
Could they let the sky fall just like that?
The night in London stretched long once more.
***
After finishing my self-canning.
I handed the manuscript to Mr. Bentley and then collapsed onto a sofa at Bentley Publishing, sleeping for a solid 24 hours.
Mr. Bentley later told me that I had slept so soundly, he was initially worried something was wrong and almost called a doctor.
But once he realized I was just asleep, he simply covered me with a blanket.
Still, maybe it was because I slept in such an uncomfortable position? My whole body felt stiff and creaky.
Ugh... I still feel exhausted.
"Ugh, this is killing me."
I used to be able to handle this better... It's not easy anymore.
Maybe this is why older writers always said to exercise whenever you can. I guess I need some exercise too.
Maybe I should join Mr. Miller for a game of cricket when I get back?
Thinking that, I found myself at Mr. Miller's townhouse in the West End.
Since my re-debut, I've been using it more than he has.
Mr. Miller does use it when he comes alone, but when his family joins, they usually go to his family home in Ealing or his mother-in-law Mary Ann Baymer's place in Bayswater.
Since both families are close, they often gather at one place.
So, I'm alone at the West End townhouse.
Alright, first I need to change clothes and head to the public bath. I can't stand feeling this sticky.
With that thought, I opened the door.
"Oh! You're back? Took you long enough."
"Huh?"
A voice I had never heard before echoed in my ears.
From inside the house.
Who is this guy?
I stared at the young man confidently sitting in the townhouse living room.
Judging his age was hard because of his magnificent golden beard. Despite the beard, there were few wrinkles beside his blue eyes and nose.
But more importantly, this is trespassing! How did he get inside?
W-what's the number for Scotland Yard...?
As I flustered, the man laughed heartily and spoke politely.
"Pardon my intrusion. But it was late, and leaving the carriage outside for too long might inconvenience the neighbours, so I took the liberty of coming in."
But trespassing is worse than leaving a carriage outside...
"Still... who are you?"
"George. George Frederick Ernest Albert."
Who is that?
I was about to ask when his next words jolted me awake.
"My grandmother granted me the title of Duke of York."
"... Oh."
"My wife is quite fond of your work, so I grew jealous and decided to meet you. Ha ha ha. I've invested in your play, so please forgive this rudeness?"
George, meaning...
The Crown Prince winked charmingly as he said this... Oh.
Why on earth is he here?!