I founded Tantric Buddhism in London
Chapter 362 Not willing to return
"There must be other secrets about John Watson that we haven't had time to discover!"
"Even if he is indeed a hero on the battlefield, but even so, it is impossible for the Blade Code to violate common sense because of him?!" George asked tentatively.
However, Uncle Chalamet did not speak at all, and just took a sip of the whiskey in the glass, but George seemed to be able to sense a hint of ridicule and disdain from the other party's actions and expression.
This discovery made George unconsciously doubt himself. He thought in his heart: 'Did I make a mistake? Could it be that the Blade Code really favors a mortal like this? ? ? ’
'No, I have to find other things to say to make up for it immediately. I can't let the old guy find out that I'm ignorant, let alone let him think that I'm an ungrateful, cowardly, and cowardly loser who can only talk nonsense... Otherwise, it will be very difficult for me. The job I'm asking for may be this.'
He swallowed nervously, and then continued to quibble:
"Before John Waugh entered the building, I could clearly detect that the fiery heartbeat symbolizing Jonathan was raging crazily in the building... I guess he must have wanted to take advantage of the rebellion to seize the experimental data accumulated in our lunatic asylum. ”
"So I cleverly moved all the experimental data to the office before he arrived."
"But when John Watson arrived, Jonathan's heartbeat disappeared in an instant... It was as if they had agreed that as soon as John Watson appeared, Jonathan would leave cooperatively and organize this... The credit for the rebellion rests entirely with John Watson.”
"Yes! This must have been agreed upon by the two of them!!!"
Feeling Uncle Chalamet's increasingly strong sense of oppression, George tremblingly explained: "I, I am not trying to justify the fact that I am hiding from the war, but the invisible arts I have learned are only auxiliary. The medical secret technique is inherently weak in frontal combat, and there are a bunch of precious experimental materials that need to be protected... I, I only stayed in the office after comprehensive consideration!"
Old Chalamet remained silent, just picked up the wine glass and took another sip.
However, George felt a substantial weight fall on his shoulders, as if there were guards standing behind him and forcing him to kneel to the ground!
He knelt down with a plop and begged: "Uncle Chalamet, I know I was wrong!"
"I shouldn't try to force John Watson to stay. I'm just too greedy... However, his prosthetic eyes can give the user new rationality!"
"Such a precious treasure, can we just watch it slip through our fingers???"
Old Chalamet finally reacted.
He shook his head with disappointment and said slowly: "George... you really disappoint me."
"It's not just that when a patient makes a scene, you cowardly hide in a safe room and wait for rescue."
"It's not because of your ridiculous greed that you want to continue to imprison John Watson and try to find a way to get rid of the moth's oblivion by dissecting his mind."
"Your stupidity is really intolerable to me!"
"You actually forgot to investigate the prosthetic eyes given to you by Holmes?!"
"If John Watson hadn't mentioned it himself, we wouldn't even know that this prosthetic eye can give people rationality... Do you know how much it costs to make such a prosthetic eye?!"
"The price is high enough to buy seven heads like yours in the underground world!"
"John Watson is obviously the designated blade of the Holmes family... The blade of Holmes is an existence that goes against the common sense of the hidden world."
"His prosthetic eyes may also have a recording function... The old Sherlock Holmes relied on this surveillance technology to bring the entire Great Britain into the Queen's sight."
"And now you actually want me to forcefully keep the recovered John Watson? You actually want to snatch his precious prosthetic eye? Risking the possibility of being discovered by the Holmes family??!"
Old Chalamet smiled coldly. He stood up and patted this good-for-nothing nephew on the shoulder. Each pat seemed to be slow and understated, but it was able to cause George's bones to emit an overwhelming harsh sound. Wail.
"George...although you are stupid, you are also lucky."
"You were born in a peaceful era. You have never experienced the era your father and I were in...you have no idea how terrifying a true genius is."
A trace of memory flashed across old Chalamet's vicissitudes of life, but there seemed to be a trace of... fear in his eyes?
"You have no idea what kind of mountains of corpses and bones are buried under the noble surname Holmes."
"It is an indisputable fact that John Watson is released from hospital. This is not only a goodwill gesture to Charlotte Holmes, but also a goodwill gesture to John Watson."
"Before he completes the mission of the Blade of Holmes, he will definitely be able to rise to a height that our Chalamet family must look up to... It is better to be a friend than an enemy with such a person!"
Old Chalamet slapped him hard, and George fainted completely, his arms hanging down weakly.
……………………
In a hazy sleep, my consciousness seems to be awake and slightly tipsy, and my five senses seem to be on strike.
The vision fell into complete chaotic darkness, the hearing fell into absolute silent tranquility, the smell could smell a faint trace of blood, and the taste remained as light as water.
Only the sense of touch remained loyal. Even in the strike team, he did not forget the care of his old club, struggling to convey a weak nerve signal.
His brain felt as if his body was being dismembered. First, he felt that the frame of his left eye suddenly emptied out, as if a precision surgery expert had personally come and peeled off the prosthetic pupil given by Miss Holmes in an instant with lightning speed.
Then came the original right eye - there was an abnormal itching sensation in the orbit, as if there were extremely tiny insects crawling in the orbit, as if a group of predatory ants were surrounding the fresh and huge eyeball. Walk.
At this point, the visual system has completely stopped, as if it has joined other camps and completely severed contact with the original host.
Immediately afterwards, the sense of smell, which still maintained a weak connection, tried its best to send out a message of strange sweetness and salty fragrance. This familiar and strange smell made the silent brain seem to wake up, even the whole body restrained itself. The cell groups in the hands and feet began to dance with joy, as if they were welcoming the return of the Lord of Destiny with a high-frequency vibration song and dance! ! !
However, the Lord of Destiny was not willing to return. He was unwilling to re-enter this eye-catching body. He just played with the eye-shaped creation containing shimmering light, and forcibly erased the internal records at the cost of giving up his adopted son's single kidney. The message will wipe out all the suspicious things.
Then, he never gets enough to take away the excess and unnecessary flesh and blood from his body.
The fat and muscle gained from the rich meals in the madhouse.
The jagged bone spurs hidden deep in the bone marrow are ready to attack.
A little bit of turbid fat and white fat that is full of knowledge and reason.
And the most important thing is the original right eye.
………………
The carriage seemed to be traveling to a certain hillside, and suddenly there was a violent jolt, which woke up John Watson from his sleep.
After he woke up, he felt that his right eye seemed dry and sore, as if he was overtired from working late at night.
John Watson turned to look at the unfortunate one-eyed boy sitting next to him, "How long is it until we reach London?"
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