Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 196 Why are you here?

Baskerville's way of releasing his anger was too simple and crude.

He just uses the most primitive means to inflict pain on others, using the other person's blood, flesh, and bones. He doesn't even have any rules, just pure violence and sadism.

This kind of rough behavior must be low-end in Watson's opinion.

But there was not much disdain in his eyes, but a faint yearning. He really felt how happy a lunatic, a person who could express the depression in his heart through torture, was.

However, his torture was more professional and more precise, but those screams and pain could only dispel the dark memories in his heart a little bit.

Watson is a person with an overly delicate mind, which is both an advantage and a disadvantage, so he can only look at the blood dripping freely on the stage, those who are extremely violent and released, and laugh with envy!

Dean Holk continued to squirm forward, and with great difficulty he crawled over a broken leg that had been pulled out, which was his own.

But now he could only think that it was in the way, pushed it aside with his remaining half arm, and then desperately crawled towards the man in the judge's robe in front of him.

Because in his eyes, the only one who can save him now is this person.

"Help me, help me."

Because the corners of his mouth were torn, he could use his tongue to push out his intestines, then crawled to Hopkins' feet, raised his head with great effort, and looked at his face:

"Help me, I'm dying!"

Hopkins looked embarrassed and lowered his body: "How can I save him? I can't beat this person."

"I admit I'm guilty."

"Oh?" Hopkins seemed to hesitate suddenly: "You said...you confessed?"

"I confess!" the vice-dean said with difficulty, the blood in his mouth making his voice extremely miserable: "I admit that I killed Dean Darwin, I admit that I killed Venelana, and I admit that Duncan's surgery I did it myself, I admit it, I can swear by the Holy Light!!"

He subconsciously wanted to make a gesture of swearing, but found that he could no longer do it, and said in a panic: "In short, I admit these things, save me, lock me up, I am willing to be arrested !”

He cried, his tears stained with blood that had not yet solidified. He wanted to live. He knew that if he soaked himself in the repair fluid, he would survive. He might have to be locked up in prison for the rest of his life, but he was a member of the Academy of Sciences after all. Vice President, I have a lot of scientific research results in my mind, and I am still useful. It is impossible for the empire to just watch a cutting-edge scientific research person like myself be killed! There is a high probability that he will not be sentenced to death.

So he cried: "I confessed my guilt, I confessed my guilt!!"

"Where's the evidence?"

"What?"

"Evidence, you confessed, but there is no evidence." Hopkins said.

"What evidence?" The deputy dean was confused for a moment: "I confessed, what evidence do you want?"

"Haha." Hopkins threw the remaining cigarette butts to the ground. He didn't know why. After taking the last few puffs of cigarettes, his eyes were so hot that he shed a lot of tears, but he smiled. Extraordinarily relaxed: “The law is fair and just. Conviction requires evidence, and similarly, guilty pleas also require evidence.

You can't provide any evidence

Therefore, this judge declares that you are not guilty! "

As he spoke, he stood up slowly, then turned and looked under the high platform.

At this moment, there were not many people in the entire venue. The chairs were upside down, notebooks, clothes, shoes, and vomit had been trampled and scattered. Everything looked messy, and there was nothing that a court should have. It seems that only a few strong reporters who have not escaped are huddled in the corner, still writing something furiously.

But such a chaotic scene looked very clean to Hopkins, so he twisted his somewhat stiff neck:

"The verdict of this case has been completed. The defendant is no longer under the supervision of this court and has regained his free status. The trial is adjourned!"

After saying that, he jumped off the high platform and walked towards the outside of the venue, ignoring the screams behind him.

As for the group of people around Catherine, even though they all stood still, as if they had strong resistance to the bloody scenes on the stage, in fact, they were all anxious and wanted to do it for a long time. Out of here.

I couldn't help but sigh that the middle-aged officer named Baskerville was really worthy of his name as a butcher.

But now, seeing the judges leaving, a group of people immediately looked at each other, and then all followed them out without knowing anything.

Just like that, after a few minutes, only Baskerville and the deputy dean were left in the entire venue. Sherlock and Watson finally walked out, then turned around and closed the door of the venue thoughtfully to avoid the screams that would occasionally occur inside. The sound disturbed passers-by.

In the last scene when the door closed, he saw Baskerville walking to the side of the deputy dean, then slowly leaning down, and amidst the screams and wailings, he opened his extremely terrifying mouth. With his teeth, he held the other person's face and bit it.

About five minutes later.

The door to the venue was pushed open again.

Baskerville walked out slowly, still wearing gold-rimmed glasses, still looking elegant, but the bloody fingerprints on his body and the blood stains on his lips that had not been licked clean revealed that he had just been What did you do?

In the corridor outside the venue, people were very far away from the door. The reporters who had just ran out of it all had pale faces. The security personnel in the building had already rushed over, but no one dared to approach, except for Sherlock. The man was leaning against the wall next to the door.

Baskerville came over to serve as a guest witness, and he did a lot more than a normal witness, so it was reasonable to wait for him to come out and say a few polite words.

"Don't think I don't know your tricks." The middle-aged officer came out, looked at Sherlock in front of him, and said calmly: "Thank you for telling me about this, but I will also help you deal with the guy inside. The two of us owe nothing to each other.

Again, don't think that I really can't kill you. Next time we meet, you may die more miserably than that bastard inside. "

Sherlock smiled casually: "Okay, you won't owe me anything if you say you don't owe me, but I'm wondering, why do you want to kill me so much?"

"I forgot, but it's not important. Those who were not killed last time will naturally continue to be killed."

After hearing this weird reason, Sherlock thought about it carefully and found that it seemed to make sense: "Hahaha, then I'll wait for you."

Then, looking at the reporters around him who were already pale but still unwilling to leave:

"But before that, do you want to worry about these reporters? If I guess correctly, your face will appear on countless newspaper headlines tomorrow."

"I don't care about this. I grew up in Redker Strait. What do you people living in the hinterland of the empire think of me and what does it have to do with me."

Sherlock nodded.

In fact, if you just look at his behavior, the officer in front of him can really be called chic. He doesn't care about his reputation or people's opinions. He doesn't love money and he certainly doesn't yearn for power. He just does whatever he wants, no matter who doesn't. Kill someone who pleases you, without caring about the consequences. Even if you die tomorrow, you will probably still do things based on your own heart.

In fact, Sherlock had reason to suspect that the reason why he became a Crusader was entirely because Lord Dante had been in the army. Otherwise, this guy would have become the most vicious murderer.

At night, the capital of the empire, the ancient Roman city of France.

Unlike Jerusalem, the holy land of the Holy See, the ancient Roman city of France, as the political center of the entire empire, covered an extremely small area, only fifty square kilometers. If divided according to the area of ​​​​area, it cannot even be called a city, only It can be regarded as a small town, with six horizontal streets and six vertical streets. It is square and the plan is extremely simple.

According to rumors, before the start of the Holy Calendar, Rome was a once glorious large country, but after the unification of mankind, it was regarded as the purest political center.

The reason why we use purity to describe this place is because there was no commerce, agriculture and manufacturing in the entire ancient Roman city. There was no industry, no schools, no parks, no bars, and even restaurants were concentrated in fixed locations on each street.

There are even no residents. The people who live here are employees of the imperial government. All the facilities here serve the political structure of the empire. There are more than forty steam train stations around, and one hundred and twenty There are all-weather manual inspection checkpoints, 20 airship landing sites, and more than 200 warehouses. All staff adopt a shift system, and meals are distributed uniformly. Everything is obtained by application, and there is no need to spend money or anything. Selection, delivery, transportation, and recycling by dedicated personnel. In short, you can’t bring anything in, and you can’t take anything out.

In addition, of course, there is also staggering military protection, but no one knows how strong the military force here is, because no one has ever triggered even a danger alarm.

At this time, in an inconspicuous building in the ancient Roman city, the sound of countless medical equipment resounded throughout the building. Fortunately, a medical room on the top floor used sound insulation materials, which allowed those who could use it to The noise of a person fainting appears less harsh.

There was only one person in the whole room, an old man. He was lying on a special large medical bed. His hair was white and thick, and he wore an oxygen mask on his face. Intersecting ravines and age spots have spread all over his forehead and cheekbones. The whole person looks weak. What is even more terrifying is that he has various tubes inserted into his body and countless needles are drilled into his body. Breathing weakly, his chest rose and fell slightly, and through the thin blanket that clung to his body, he could even see the outline of his bones.

This was an extremely weak man, but there was no one accompanying him in the room.

Because people breathe, carry germs, lose hair, etc. In short, the old man in bed does not want too many people around him, and his body does not need constant care, or in other words, those Taking care of me no longer has much effect on me. The only things that can sustain my life now are these drugs.

Suddenly, a slight rustling sound came from the player embedded in the wall.

"Um"

The old man on the bed snorted softly, and the person on the other side of the phone finally dared to speak:

"Your Excellency Augustine, the news came from the School of Life Sciences five minutes ago that Vice President Holk is dead."

He didn't say how he died, where he died, or why he died, because the old man on the bed didn't care. In his eyes, the idiot-like vice-dean should have died long ago.

"Where's the device?"

he asked in a tiny voice.

"." The voice on the other side of the microphone hesitated for a moment, and then there was some imperceptible trembling in the voice: "Lost it."

Such a simple word.

The old man on the bed slowly opened his eyes.

It is difficult to describe such a pair of eyes. They are obviously white, and the corners of the eyes are filled with dry wrinkles due to the depletion of blood. But just because of the slightly opened gap, the extremely weak old man on the bed seems to suddenly... It disappeared, and what you saw instead was the vastness of the empire's mountains and rivers, and the boundless sky above the sky. However, these once vastness were all covered by a layer of thick fog, making it look a little lonely. Somewhat sad.

But no matter what, at this moment, no one can associate the old man on the bed with the word 'weak'.

"Who will investigate the death of Professor Darwin?" For some reason, Emperor Augustine suddenly asked such a question.

"Your Majesty, it is his daughter who is investigating."

"No, that little girl doesn't have the courage to survive until now. Someone can help her."

"It seems." The voice on the phone thought for a moment: "There is a private detective beside her."

"private detective?"

"Yes."

"That instrument was stolen by him."

"." The person on the other side of the phone was silent for a moment. Obviously, he couldn't understand why Emperor Augustine concluded so easily that the private detective had stolen the instrument.

But he didn't need to know, he just needed to believe in the wisdom and decision-making of Augustine the Great.

"I will send someone to capture him now."

"No need." The old man on the bed said lightly: "There is no use in catching him, and there is no use in asking where the machine is. Tomorrow, the news of Professor Darwin's death will spread throughout the empire. Unless you can Blow up all the printing plants of the Imperial newspapers within two hours, otherwise it will all be in vain.”

"That"

"Whether Professor Darwin is killed or not, it won't matter. What I want is for everyone to think that his experiment failed!

It needs to be in public, and it needs to be in full view.

Therefore, it was fate that the machine was not destroyed. "

"." The person on the other side of the microphone continued to be silent. He did not dare to interrupt the old man's words.

"So you don't need to do anything for the time being, because the Holy See will desperately seize this opportunity. They will announce to the entire empire that Darwin's experiment has been a great success at all costs.

There is an old saying in empire: the higher you climb, the harder you fall."

Early the next morning, in the waiting room of the second west platform of the School of Life Sciences.

Sherlock and Watson sat side by side on their seats, waiting for the arrival of the steam train.

Dean Darwin's death case has been considered a certainty. Sherlock's hard work during this period has finally paid off, and this case seems to make him very comfortable and satisfied, so this morning, he always hums something Tune.

Watson complained several times, saying that his humming was a bit unpleasant, but Sherlock argued hard, saying that he was very talented in music. If he was given a violin now, he could play a Pulse Trio Sonata live, and emphasized that he was very talented in music. That was music by famous people before the Holy Calendar.

Watson didn't dare to answer. He didn't care whether Sherlock could play the violin. He just felt that if this guy really started playing with such an elegant instrument, the scene would definitely be very interesting.

"When I was 15, a very famous violinist in London wanted to take me on as his apprentice."

"Of course, I believe you."

"When I was 17, I played violin one night in a restaurant and I made a whole pound that night!"

"Of course, I believe you."

Sherlock frowned: "Why do I feel that you are perfunctory with me?"

"How is it possible, my friend, I believe you."

Sherlock was too lazy to answer him and was about to continue humming, but at this moment, a man suddenly stood in front of the two of them, blocking the oncoming sunlight.

Sherlock and Watson raised their heads together, saw the person in front of them, looked a little surprised, and then asked in unison:

"How did you come?"