I'm slowly getting myself back into the Layton fandom. I recently acquired Miracle Mask for free from a Club Nintendo promotion (Go check that out if you haven't already) in order to prep myself up for Azran Legacies. Which if all goes swell, should be shipping first thing Fall 2013. Until that time comes, expect me here and there, posting one-shots with the realization in mind that my audience won't be the same as it was in 2009-2010.
This one in particular is dedicated to a puzzle most bullshit.
Right... Please review! If you don't, who will?
Word Count: 765 words.
Mangled Math
Dalston smirks as he watches Hershel examine the puzzle. With an air of self-satisfaction, he says, "Still struggling? But this is the simplest math problem ever!
Stansbury. A cool, calm, and collected town filled with cool, calm, and collected people. And if one thought the atmosphere during the day was peaceful, little did they know that the night was an entirely different story.
In hindsight, it's not that different, mind you.
"Well, come on then? Aren't you going to solve the problem then, Hershel?" asks Dalston, a smug smirk on his face.
Hershel looks at the oddity of the puzzle, while solving them has proven to be quite the past time as of lately, it seems like every other second the beloved townspeople are tossing him logical scenarios this way and that and expecting him to complete them all no problem.
Even his own parents have succumbed to this mysterious puzzle urge, if that was what was new and "hip" around town, then he must have been living under a rock for the few years he had been here.
Some of the brainteasers were quite easy, some an optical illusion, others trick the mind, and others dare to confuse the number-crunching abilities of the people that dare to solve the mind-bogglers.
Hershel would never admit to anyone, at least right now, that these puzzles were beginning to grow on him, no thanks to the excessive courtesy of his best friend.
That said, despite the fact that they were growing on him, it did not immediately make him fall in love with the concept period, one can only take so many puzzles a day, and Hershel's toil had ended sometime around late afternoon.
Hershel looks at the torn up homework sheet in his hand, littered with creases and the like, "Dalston, I apologize, but if you must know, I have to be getting to Randall's."
Hershel makes the move to leave, but Dalston stops him, "Excuse me?"
Dalston keeps that smug smirk on his face, "Eh? Going to Bratscot's house now then, are you? Then don't even think about getting past me until you solve this little problem!"
"I'm sorry Dalston, but I don't believe I can."
"Hahaha! Hershel, you have to be serious. Are you honestly telling me you can't solve this simple little math problem? Give it another go!"
Hershel frowns, realizing that he has met a stalemate which he cannot get out of. His eyes dart down to the small sheet of paper, the numbers bugging him like no tomorrow. The numbers are there, the creases don't seem to be obscuring any notable information, the holes in the paper conceal small bits of some numbers, but not to the point where they are illegible.
'If it's such a simple problem, why does he not solve it himself?' thinks Hershel.
The more he looks at it, the more frustrated he gets, and the more Dalston reminds him how simple it is in actuality, the more it adds to the frustration. According to Dalston, there's just something he's not seeing.
Hershel begins to have the feeling that if he doesn't do away with this seemingly simple problem soon, then it'll hinder him as he tries to flourish his growing toleration of puzzles.
The solution is clear, to beat Dalston at his own game.
Hershel ultimately decides for another go.
He begins looking at the paper in different perspectives, trying to look for something, anything, that might be indicative of a crucial detail he might have overlooked during his first several hundred skim-overs.
He comes across something when looking at the memo upside-down, the same perspective Dalston was holding the paper in when he gave it to him earlier.
The answer becomes clear instantly.
"Fifteen."
Dalston begins laughing at Hershel's answer, until it hits him, "Oh? Why, that's the right answer! How did you come up with it? Don't tell me you cheated, did you?"
"Not at all Dalston. We were simply perceiving the problem from different angles, and as it turns out, the actual numbers written on the creased paper are irrelevant, what you wanted me to look at were the holes in the paper, which conveniently form a much simpler math problem than the one I was presented with at first. I shall be seeing you now Dalston, good night."
Dalston, shocked at Hershel actually being correct, can only in disbelief as Layton heads down the path to Randall's house, "But, but that's impossible! No one's ever managed to best me at that puzzle, not even 'ol Bratscot! It was one of my best!"
Hershel's youthful mouth gets the better of him as he continues walking down the streets of Pebble Lane, having heard the whole thing.
"I feel inclined to say that was more trial and error if anything."