Transmigrating to Baker Street

London, 1987, the Age of Fog. The hiss of steam coils above the Thames, while gas lamps break the streets into dim yellow fragments. Lin Yuan wakes to find himself curled up outside the cellar door at 219 and a half Baker Street, the bitter almond taste of cyanide still lingering in his throat. His last memory is of a modern forensic laboratory. He has no identity, only a navy-blue trench coat, a fingerprint brush soaked in blood, and fragmented memories of Sherlock Holmes. He knows how "A Scandal in Bohemia" ends, but can't remember where the photograph went.

His golden finger arrives with the nightmare: he can use ammonium chloride to reveal old bloodstains, apply psychological statistical models to profile suspects, and even remembers the "predetermined course" of London's serial Jack the Ripper murders from history books. But the era quickly teaches him a lesson: his short hair, atheism, and habit of questioning the Queen get him reported by a neighbor as "a remnant of the French Revolution." Scotland Yard nearly mistakes him for an Irish bomber. Staying alive becomes his first mystery.

Deep in the fog, a hand wearing a black leather glove offers him an old envelope. Inside is a photograph of "the first drop of blood," dated a week in the future. The sender signs her name "Veronica H," but the handwriting is strikingly similar to Lin Yuan's own right hand. Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes has quietly taken an interest in him, seeing him as "a variable capable of breaking predetermined fate."

Lin Yuan must find a way to preserve the integrity of history, avert a butterfly-effect disaster, and save an unknown girl who is about to be butchered. He must follow a line of deduction that no one has written for him. More frightening still, he suspects that he himself is the "future copycat killer" who left fingerprints in history's shadows.

A new story is about to begin.