Sherlock Holmes

The passage between the upper town and the lower town requires a bridge across the Thames River. There are heavy gear gates on both sides of the bridge. They are almost never opened at will after the curfew at night.

Of course, this kind of order written in the London Police Law will never be bound by the Holy See.

Listening to the roar of the mechanical gears outside the car window, Sherlock slowly cast his gaze into the night. There was a huge portrait of Nightingale hanging on the steel cable next to the bridge. According to legend, this angelic girl who traveled through the empire would... I came to London a few months later, and I didn’t know how many people this time would bring healing and blessings to.

Looking at the beautiful face displayed on the canvas, Shylock did not show the human obsession and yearning for beauty like all citizens of the empire. He just sat silently. A few stars appeared in the sky over London, which represented the distance. In the deep sky, several huge stars are being reborn or destroyed.

But he knew very well that if there were some people worthy of admiration in this rotten world, then this girl must be one of them.

Half an hour later, after passing through several paths shrouded in steam from manhole covers, the carriage finally arrived at Baker Street.

This is a very inconspicuous street. Compared with the main roads in the city, it is really clean. At least except for the trash cans that are never cleaned, the gas street lamps that are never repaired, and things stolen everywhere. Apart from the homeless orphans, there is almost no congestion and no neighing of leaky pipes.

Even those murderers would not dump their bodies here and may feel that they are worth a loss.

Of course, from time to time, some corpses bitten by demons will still appear on the street. This can't be helped. Low-level small demons generally have no intelligence. When they encounter something that moves, they will subconsciously want to Go chew it twice and try to see if you can swallow it.

Anyway, for Sherlock, this is a rare and quiet place to live.

Walking into Building A, No. 314, a musty smell hit my face.

This building is obviously very old. Walking up the steps, the wooden boards under your feet groaned unbearably. The second floor is his home.

Going up and pushing open the door, Sherlock stretched out his hand and twisted a knob on the wall. The gas floated from the pipe in the wall into a glass cover. The light turned on slowly, and the dim light passed through the faded carvings on the lamp cover. It did not bring much warmth to this small room, but instead reflected a hint of messiness and loneliness.

What catches the eye is a living room, which is not big and can be seen without having to look sideways. There are sofas placed randomly, the original color of the carpet cannot be seen, and the wooden cabinets that have not been polished. The windows are very small, facing the bare red brick wall of the building. .

A standard cheap apartment.

And besides that, it’s just a room full of books.

"Memoirs of a Contractor's Servant", "Encyclopedia of Abyss Creatures", "Speculations on the Abilities of High-Level Contractors" and many newspaper clippings about civilians working together to repel or even kill demons.

These books were scattered in various corners of the room. Almost every one of them was tattered and had obviously been read countless times.

As mentioned before, Shylock is an ordinary person. He is not a devout believer. Naturally, he has never participated in the Holy See's canonization ceremony of contractors. However, he is not that yearning for it, so he just flips through books and sees if there are any. The briefing on the Abyss Demon was just a good way to entertain my idle mind.

"Huh~~~~~"

Hanging up his coat and hat, he walked to a sofa and sat down. He groaned comfortably.

The sofa is also very old, and the red patent leather is full of cracks. The partition in the middle has collapsed, just enough for the person on it to half lie on it. Sherlock likes this position very much.

He is exhausted today

First, he caught a murderer, then came into contact with the clergy of the Holy See, went to the upper city, and offended a nun by the way.

Oh, when it comes to the judgmental nun named Catherine, Sherlock's evaluation of her is quite interesting.

Because after some casual observation, we can find out that she has a sweet tooth, loves to sleep on the bed, and doesn’t like folding quilts! She lives alone, drinks too much, and sleeps with a big pillow, probably a big stuffed rabbit with long ears.

Gee, it’s a bit different from the usual aloof image in front of others.

But it doesn't matter, no one is a bit different these days. Even old-school policemen like Lestrade secretly like to wear T-shaped underwear that can be inserted into the crack of the buttocks. Sherlock never thinks there is anything wrong with this. It was inappropriate, so it was never pierced.

Let’s talk about Deacon Bader whose wife died.

Sherlock is still more concerned about him; after all, he is a person closely related to the deceased, and he is also affiliated with the violent organization of the Holy See that controls the interior of the empire, so he deserves more attention.

However, what surprised Sherlock was that he was unable to obtain any information about this person. Whether it was personality, daily routine, eating habits, physical condition, or habits, it was all a blank sheet of paper.

If this man hadn't reacted at all to his wife's death, Sherlock would have even suspected that he was really an emotionless machine as rumored.

I just thought about it randomly for a while, and then turned my attention to the clock on the wall.

It was already two o'clock in the morning, and Sherlock needed to rest.

There was no light outside the window at this time, and the night enveloped the entire apartment. There were no hawkers or traffic, only the bells in the distance echoed as always; he closed his eyes and prepared to fall asleep on the sofa.

After falling asleep, you can also think about the murder puzzles.

Um. That's right, reasoning. After falling asleep.

So, he relaxed his body and poured all his fatigue into the old sofa beneath him.

Less than 10 minutes.

Light snoring sounded.

The rhythm is slow and long, like those church bells and prayers

And at the same time.

In the white world, Sherlock slowly opened his eyes.

He twisted his neck and then stood up. He was not surprised by the strange environment around him. He just yawned as if he was used to it.