I founded Tantric Buddhism in London

Charlotte Holmes once again showed her aristocratic and friendly smile that she had practiced for a long time in her childhood.

"Hello, is this Victor Feuerbach's house?"

"Um yes, you are?"

Rose Feuerbach looked at the two strangers in front of the door, her triangular eyes, inherited from her family, showing wariness.

This made Watson couldn't help but recall the scene that night - Victor's eyes were still filled with shock and disbelief, staring blankly at the figure behind the gun smoke, with a touch of white blood mixed in the turbidity. It flowed from his brow.

It's not that he feels guilty about this, it's the self-denial of a coward. He hasn't felt such an emotion for many, many years...

He was just wondering whether the girl in front of him was also a member of the Order of the Flashing Blade. Did she know that he had killed her brother, and was she planning to take revenge on him?

Should I follow the forbidden rules in my heart - when the other party is intending to harm me, I should break through the restriction of fighting or killing and nip the threat in the cradle in advance.

But this Rose...does she know the hidden blood feud between herself and me?

In Watson's opinion, the answer should be no. The other party did not show hatred or resentment at the first sight after seeing him - this is not a negative emotion that can be easily controlled.

Did it turn out that the Order of the Flashing Blade hadn't had time to tell his family about Victor's death? Are you busy hiding recently and haven't taken the time yet?

The dark primitive self in Watson's heart, which was imprisoned and blocked by the heavy super-ego, sighed helplessly... It seems that he has to endure it for a while longer.

Charlotte said softly: "You must be Rose. We are your brother's friends and we often hear Victor mention you."

"You are my brother's friends!"

When Rose Feuerbach heard this, her gloomy eyes almost gleamed.

"Brother, where is he now?"

"Brother, how is he doing now?"

"Brother, does he eat on time and on time?"

"The weather has turned cold recently. Brother, has he added any clothes?"

"Brother, he..."

Rose sputtered a lot. Her words were as short and fierce as a submachine gun that had not yet been invented, and it was hard to resist.

"Well - we actually..."

Charlotte hesitated. Faced with the question from this innocent girl of similar age, she didn't know how to answer for a moment.

Perhaps it was due to the recent arrival of a special period in her body, when estrogen secretion increased, and her weak sensibility, which had been suppressed for a long time, suddenly struggled to get rid of the shackles of reason, temporarily occupying the peak of her thoughts.

Your brother is dead. We are here to investigate the connection between him and the terrifying secret cult. This answer will definitely make the other party despair. It is really difficult for her to say it now, and she turns to look at her assistant as if asking for help.

Watson knew it in his heart, and put on a worried look that was a little pretentious but enough to fool Rose, but not Sherlock Holmes - in fact, it could conceal his truly superb acting skills.

He seemed very worried and said:

"Miss Rose, we are also very worried about Victor's situation like you - he has lost contact with us for several days, and we heard that he has recently come into contact with some dangerous new friends. We are afraid that he will be incited by those people and die. On the wrong path.”

"Have you found out who Victor has been in contact with lately? Or where he often goes?"

He said with some exaggeration and sadness:

"We also hope to rescue Victor from those dangerous guys before he makes an irreparable mistake!"

Ah - Rose covered her mouth in surprise when she heard the news, but at the same time, she recalled in her mind the huge sum of twenty pounds and a bag of their favorite milk candies that her brother secretly gave her when he came home a few days ago.

At that time, Victor also swore to her, don't worry, take it, sister, her brother has now found a good job, this is a reward from BOSS to his brother.

Just take it and go buy some fashionable new clothes and dress yourself up. My sister is obviously so pretty, but why is she dressed like an aunt in the countryside now... By the way, you can get this money. Hide it well, don't let old Feuerbach find it and use it to buy wine.

Before leaving, her brother kissed her forehead and said that our life will definitely get better and better in the future! Brother will definitely let you live as good a life as a noble lady!

Rose's eyes suddenly became wet, tears welling up in them and she tried not to shed them... Her brother had indeed joined a gang and risked his life in exchange for money!

And all of this is because of me, all to take care of my sister!

Rose could no longer suppress her sadness and cried out. Muddy tears flowed from the gaps in her fingers that were rough from years of hard work. The falling teardrops left a mark on the back of her hands that were covered with dust and fine scars. .

Watson still maintained a stiff and exaggerated expression, and Charlotte had reached over him to hold the crying Rose in her arms, patting her back and comforting her softly.

"Rose!!!"

There was a roar in Feuerbach's house, and a fat, middle-aged bald man smelling of alcohol staggered out.

"How many times have I fucking told you?! Don't cry in front of me like your fucking bitch mother! You really are losing your memory!!!"

Old Feuerbach pulled out the belt from his waist. Fortunately, his belly was fat enough to hold up his pants.

He snapped the belt and was about to whip his annoying daughter, just like he had done for so many years.

But this time there was a cane blocking his belt, just like little Victor's outstretched arm that night!

Old Feuerbach was so angry that he seemed to see his unsatisfactory son again, the little Victor who dared to defy his great father!

His anger transferred to the unfamiliar injured person in front of him, and he waved his belt to beat him.

Watson certainly didn't take action out of sympathy or pity for Rose, he just didn't want this old drunkard to interfere with their work.

Moreover, after blocking this blow, he will definitely leave an initial good impression in the girl's mind, which will help the investigation work further.

He looked at the belt that was slowly swinging towards him. It was still stained with oil, sweat and dried wine.

He was thinking in his mind, did this meet the standard of exception to the prohibition?

Is the other party preparing to hurt himself... Yes, this is a fact that needs no doubt.

But whether the other party has violated the prohibition and killed compatriots during non-war times... It is not necessarily possible. From the current point of view, the other party is just an incompetent and furious domestic abuser.

Killing him would be like dirtying your hands.

The judgment process failed. Watson turned the cane that should have been stuck at the old Feuerbach's throat to block the belt, then hit the opponent's left ear with a little force, and then gently stabbed the diaphragm. .

What seemed like a serious blow to Watson was a series of brutal blows to this old alcoholic who had been drained of his health by drinking for a long time. His eardrum was directly perforated and his diaphragm was bleeding.

Old Feuerbach's legs were paralyzed and he knelt on the ground. There was a buzzing in his ears, and the noise seemed to be transmitted to his skull with the force. His brain was shaking and dizzy, and his internal organs seemed to be churning, making him sick. The feeling is gushing out with stomach acid, wine, and black bread.

He fell into his own vomit, his cheek pressed against the cold floor and the foul-smelling gastric juice, and he seemed to be mumbling something.

Charlotte looked at the dirty old drunkard who fell to the ground with disgust, and gently helped Rose up who was squatting down and crying.

"Miss Rose, let's talk in another place."

And the old Feuerbach, who was crying with pain, could only kneel on the ground and watch his daughter and free maid leave and walk into the gorgeous carriage illuminated by a bright ray of sunshine that rarely fell in London.