Sherlock Holmes

This is a somewhat old and large room, but it is very clean. The surrounding walls are filled with colors ranging from white to yellow. Because the leaves outside the window are blocking it, the little sunlight cannot pass through the window freely. So in broad daylight, the gas lamp was turned on.

"Huhu."

There were bursts of mechanical friction accompanied by a small buzz of gas coming in and out. Sherlock turned his head slightly, and then saw a common large automatic supply oxygen cylinder in this era, which was as tall as a person, placed against the wall, like It was a large bomb that could explode at any moment. Most of the cyan paint on it had fallen off. A palm-sized dial on the top was connected to a rubber tube that extended all the way to the oxygen mask on his face.

It was obvious that Sherlock was in a hospital at this moment, and there was a table by the window not far from him, with a person lying on it.

woman

She was sleeping, just like those students in math classes in all the schools established by the empire, folding her arms as a pillow, lying on a book, face turned sideways, and breathing softly and rhythmically from her mouth.

However, the woman in front of her is definitely not a student, but a doctor. She is wearing a clean but obviously old white coat. It seems that this is her normal dress. Her cuffs and collar are arranged meticulously, and her long hair is firmly tied behind her head. The hair was tied up, and a few naughty hairs broke free from their restraints and hung down to the tip of the nose, leaving traces of mottled shadows on the white and crystal clear skin.

Not long ago, Sherlock finally met Nightingale in reality. As a human being with vision and normal cognition, he was naturally shocked by the beauty of that moment, but then he experienced The most horrific disaster in history.

he started to escape

During the entire escape process, he must have had no intention of taking another look at this extremely beautiful woman.

But at this moment, under the interplay of sparse sunlight and the light and shadow of the gas lamp, this woman's face was turned sideways, so close to her, and her eyelashes were slightly trembling from time to time. This picture had an inexplicable and thrilling visual impact. , Fortunately, this thrilling effect only affects aesthetics and vision for the time being, so Sherlock was not touched by the beauty of this moment, causing him to be stunned on the spot.

He could even take a look at the book under her body. There were some anatomy diagrams on it, so was she reading?

In this world, Lord Nightingale, who has the most powerful medical ability, still needs to read books?

I remember Watson said before that medicine is not a good path to take, but it seems that he was not fooling around.

Just as I was thinking about it, suddenly, the door to the room was pushed open, and a bouncing figure walked in. It was Parthenope. She was still carrying the overly large backpack at this time, just like sleeping. He seemed to be hugging him, there was a bandage on his forehead, and there were several bandages on his wrists and arms, but he obviously didn't care much about it.

After opening the door, she saw Nightingale dozing on the table, so she walked over naturally, and then, without hesitation, slapped her hard on the butt.

"ah!"

Nightingale was startled and woke up immediately. Then she looked at her maid with a very angry expression: "What are you doing?!"

"You said, when I saw you being lazy while studying, I woke you up." Parthenope said as if nothing happened, not acting like a maid at all, and even imitated her own lady's tone: "Ah! Oh, doctors don’t have time to rest~~"

Nightingale became even more angry and stared with beautiful eyes: "Then you can't use a gentler method?"

"Okay, okay, isn't this a way to break up your sleepiness? You can see how great the effect is, and what's more, no one can see it." Noper spread his hands indifferently, just about to say something else. .

Then, he saw Sherlock looking at him.

I couldn't help but be stunned.

Nightingale seemed to have noticed something was wrong, and looked sideways. The three of them looked at each other, and the ward fell into silence for a long time.

A few minutes later.

"So, it was you who saved me?" Sherlock asked weakly as he lay on the bed.

"Of course." Nopa took the initiative to interrupt: "Speaking of which, you have to thank me. At that time, the lady and I were lost. There were fires everywhere, and we couldn't tell the direction. Fortunately, I saw a church in the distance, and It looked like there weren’t many gas pipes blown up along the way, so I hurriedly ran in that direction and found you, otherwise you would have died there.”

As he said that, Nopa still raised his head proudly, as if waiting for the other party's thanks.

But suddenly, she seemed to recall something, and her momentum suddenly weakened a bit.

Because she remembered the extremely terrifying scene in the church. The smell of blood was everywhere, and the floor was covered with splashing blood. The man in front of her was not like he was now, lying quietly on the hospital bed, looking guilty. I have become addicted to cigarettes, but I can only persist with a sad face.

At that time, he was more like an extremely terrifying devil.

His body was covered in blood, and he was holding a beating heart in his hand. However, he was happy and excited, as if he was enjoying the stimulation brought by the blood around him.

After following the young lady for so long, Nopa has naturally seen those extremely powerful characters, and even seen combat heroes transported back from the front line waiting for treatment. But she has never seen anyone like this before.

A patient, a butcher; a depressed smoker, a bloodthirsty madman.

These two contrasts made Nopa feel terrified. She subconsciously restrained her arrogant temper and shut her mouth.

And Nightingale next to her was actually frightened by the scene at that time. The blood and internal organs were mixed together like stuffing. Who wouldn't be afraid? Moreover, everything was explaining, This gentleman who claims to be a detective is actually a powerful and extremely cruel person.

She didn't know why such a person would appear next to the Holy Son, and she didn't even know why the Holy Son seemed to attach great importance to him.

Anyway, at that moment Miss Nightingale decided to save him!

Of course, saving him was not because of the relationship between this man and the Holy Son, but simply because, as a doctor, he met someone who could save him. Of course, he couldn't pretend not to see; moreover, he was the one in front of him. This man took himself away from that disaster. For this reason, he also took the initiative to appear in front of a big demon. No matter what his intentions were, in short, without him, he would have died long ago. Therefore, he must be saved. other side.

"How do you feel?" Nightingale asked.

"My whole body hurts, but I probably won't die." Sherlock's tone seemed satisfied: "But don't you have the ability to heal? Why don't you help me recover from my injuries?"

Nightingale smiled bitterly: "It's not that I don't do it, but that I can't do it. Didn't I say before that the ability to heal cannot be used all the time. I should be considered to be in the period of 'exhaustion' now, otherwise, you I won’t stay in the hospital bed for so long.”

"I see." Sherlock nodded, and the slight movement caused a sharp pain: "But thank you anyway, how is that boy Moriarty?"

"I just contacted the hospital recruited by the Holy See this morning. His Royal Highness the Holy Son has regained consciousness, but he is still coughing because the smoke has entered deep into the lungs."

"Oh." Sherlock nodded, then hesitated, and finally asked: "What about his maid?"

Speaking of this, Miss Nightingale in front of her seemed to be silent for a moment, her expression looked a little lonely, and she seemed to blame herself.

Sherlock also fell silent. In fact, this result can be imagined. A human, even a third-level contractor, cannot survive under the hands of a third-level demon.

"So Moran will die after all."

He thought to himself.

But the moment this idea came to mind, suddenly! He flew! !

No, of course Sherlock couldn't really fly, but at this moment, a perspective appeared in his mind, coming from the sky!

Sherlock was a little confused for a moment. He felt that he was falling faster and faster with this perspective. Like a drop of rain, it passed through the clouds, passed through the distance between the sky and the ground, and then fell to a house. It looks like a huge hospital.

However, this drop of rainwater was not shattered on the top floor of the hospital. Instead, it passed directly through it, then crossed the ceiling, crossed an entire floor, and the floor of this floor, and continued to fall, and fall, until He fell into what looked like an emergency room.

Suddenly, it stopped. This perspective was suspended quietly, and what it faced was a body covered in bruises. Countless scars and bruises covered almost every inch of its skin, and countless Equipment was operating around her, and countless people were busy around her.

The bruised body had its eyes closed.

Sherlock knew this man as Moran.