Sherlock Holmes

Something is definitely wrong.

Thinking of the guy in a long trench coat who suddenly appeared in the corridor of the hotel, which meant that the person on the other side knew exactly where the Pope was.

So why do we have so many demons scattered in various places in the hotel, and even fought with the contractors under the Pope.

According to common sense, since we know the target's location, shouldn't we just let void cracks appear around the target?

Killing at close range is definitely the method with the highest success rate.

Moreover, the killer who has been waiting in the stable is also very strange. He can wait in the shadows for so long, could he not think of doing something with the car?

If such a heavy steam locomotive is traveling at high speed, any explosion can turn it into a coffin rolling in mid-air.

Don't say that these people who assassinated the Pope didn't know how to cause explosions. Those gas pipe explosions in the hotel must have been caused by them. Even if there were really no explosives, they should have punctured the tires first. Explode, or simply kill the driver.

Not many people can drive a steam locomotive these days. As long as the driver dies, such a big guy will become scrap metal.

Thinking of this, another contractor also rushed in front of the man in the shadows, raised his fist and was about to blow the opponent's head apart.

However, the wind brought by the fist blew the opponent's hair into a middle parting, and the man remained motionless.

At this moment, the contractor brother finally felt that something was wrong, and quickly retracted his casserole-sized fist, narrowly stopping an inch above the opponent's Tianling Gai.

Only then did he finally notice that the reason why the other party was motionless was not because he was calm at all, but because his whole body was tied up and his mouth was tightly stuffed, making him unable to make a sound. He couldn't run away even if he wanted to. He could stare with tears in his eyes.

The contracted guard was stunned for half a second, and finally recovered from his stupor. He angrily pulled out the stuffing in the other person's mouth and said angrily: "Who the hell are you?!"

The tied man looked aggrieved:

"I am the driver"

"???!" The contract guard was furious. He was about to curse, but he suddenly froze. Are you the driver? ?

So if you are the driver, who is driving?

Just when I thought of this, suddenly, a voice came:

"As expected, most of the people have stayed upstairs to take care of themselves. Now there are only a few of you left."

He was startled and immediately took a step back, assuming a fighting posture. At the same time, he also looked at a small corner covered by shadows next to the driver.

The sound came from that corner.

But that corner was too small to hide anyone, and why did this voice, this sentence, and this tune sound so familiar? It seemed like I had heard it once before.

"Oh, don't bother. Since there are only a few of you, don't even think about running away."

The same words again!

At this time, another contracted guard had strode to the shadow and grabbed a small gramophone.

"As expected, most of the people have stayed upstairs to break up, and now you are the only ones left!"

The gramophone was slammed against the wall and turned into jingling parts rolling around on the floor.

Four pounds, all for nothing.

The steam locomotive drove along the street with full horsepower, spitting out hot smoke from behind, and made the engine roar as it passed! The carriages along the way could be heard from a long way away, so they quickly gave way for fear of being hit.

In the car, the Pope's fat body almost occupied the entire back seat, which was very crowded, but his expression was very excited. From time to time, he looked towards the back and saw the street scene passing by quickly. "Hey hey hey" he let out a satisfied laugh.

"Damn, although this thing is expensive, it's really unambiguous to drive!" He said, taking out a box of expensive cigars from his large robe, and lighting them.

But I haven’t even taken a sip yet.

"No smoking in the car!" said the driver in the front seat.

The Pope was startled for a moment, and then he realized that there were two people sitting in the front row of the vehicle, but he didn't pay much attention to it. After all, he himself didn't know how many drivers he had hired for these two steam locomotives.

Now, he was just a little unhappy with the driver's tone of voice:

"Can't smoke? Is it because it will affect the operation of this machine?"

He didn't understand cars, and he didn't understand his situation at this time, so he asked.

"No, I just don't like you smoking," the driver continued.

"What?!" The Pope said angrily, even wondering if he heard wrongly. How dare his subordinate speak to him like this? !

He was about to yell angrily!

As a result, the driver in front suddenly turned his head and stared directly at the Pope with a pair of extremely cold eyes, as if he were staring at a dead man.

"You, you." Pope Theodore was startled. He felt that he had seen the face in front of him. The facial arc was too three-dimensional, which made people not like him much at first sight, but he forgot where he was. Saw it.

But the driver didn't want him to recall it carefully. Instead, he punched his plump face with his fist.

"Crack!" The bridge of his nose was smashed so hard that it almost sunk into his face. The Pope let out a strange cry, and blood started to flow.

But the driver's fist still didn't stop. Instead, he straightened his fist and hit the face behind him. He shouted while hammering:

"I said! I don't like it! You're here! Smoking behind me!"

"Help~help~help~help~"

The bones of the bridge of the nose are all broken, and the fist can hit the flesh of the face unimpeded, making it soft and causing ripples.

"Okay, okay, watch the road," Watson said, sitting in the passenger seat.

"Really." Sherlock finally stopped: "I didn't even twitch, why are you twitching there?! Give me a taste."

As he said that, he picked up the cigar box that fell on the Pope's chest, turned around, took out a cigar, lit it, and took a few puffs: "The taste is not bad, but the power is too weak. Not satisfying.”

After that, he passed the remaining few cigarettes aside, but Watson just smiled and waved his hand: "I haven't slept for a few days, so I won't touch cigarettes for the time being, but I am very curious that you can actually drive this thing."

"Learned now." Sherlock said while driving and flipping through the "Steam Locomotive User's Guide" in his mind.

Watson smiled and had to say that his detective friend could always show reliable attributes at the most critical moments. He thought about what he had experienced in the past two days and thought about being ensnared by them. The windbreaker was thrown to the top floor of the hotel to attract attention to the poor robber. Then he turned back and glanced at the Pope who was unconscious but still twitching. Suddenly, he realized that this experience of being chased seemed to be the same. Not too bad.

Suddenly, for some reason, he thought of that gorgeous restaurant again, under the gentle lights and gentle music.

The lady sitting across from me.

I have to say that it was indeed a bit offensive for me to suddenly sit over and eat the food on the other person's plate without permission.