Sherlock Holmes

In the surrounding air, the smell of alcohol and various bodily fluids and perfumes were mixed together, and it actually smelled like a light gardenia.

It's been almost half a year, and this tavern is still the same as the last time I came here. The specially painted gas lamps emit light of different colors. The intoxicated men and women show their bodies in these lights, like twisted shadows. . It's just that a lamp on the right side of the hall is broken, leaving a small gap in the halo.

Sherlock looked at the amber wine in the glass and shook it gently: "I didn't expect time to fly by quite quickly."

"Yeah, I just met you when I came here last time." Watson drank another drink.

But unfortunately, I'm still not drunk.

Sherlock was not drunk either. He had just experienced the incident at the Academy of Life Sciences, and it seemed that he was naturally involved in the Empire's inheritance ceremony. A little-known detective could actually affect the direction of the entire empire. If this happened, To others, it probably sounded like a bad joke.

"Speaking of which, I've always been curious as to why you invited me to drink at that time." Sherlock couldn't help but ask, recalling the last time he sat here.

Watson thought for a while: "If I say it's because I feel life is too boring, would you believe it?"

"I believed it before, but I don't believe it anymore."

In fact, when Sherlock met Watson for the first time, he discovered that he always used a method similar to self-abuse to seek stimulation. Of course, the method of pricking his fingers with the tip of a needle was too monotonous, so , he would naturally regard Watson as a post-war stress syndrome patient who was used to seeing blood on the front lines of the war, felt bored when he returned to the Empire, and wanted to get back to that exciting life.

But later, Sherlock seemed to discover that there was something hidden under this excitement-seeking mentality. The reason was simple: the doctor in front of him was unhappy. Even after an extremely venting period of knee-lengthening therapy, After the conversation, he was still unhappy. He seemed to be seeking a kind of psychological peace, but he could never find it.

Watson smiled: "Actually, this is a very bloody story."

Sherlock filled another glass for him: "Anyway, the staffing of the factory will not be in place until two or three days. There is plenty of time. If you want to say something, then I would really like to hear it."

Watson looked at the bubbles that were constantly growing and bursting in the cup, just like the mold growing in the darkness, and said softly: "I was born in a family of doctors. My father is a very prestigious doctor who has saved many people." His mother was a nurse and his father's assistant.

As you can imagine, my childhood was very happy and happy. Then my parents were killed. The way they were killed was very simple. A man broke into my home, hung them up, and stabbed them with blood. hole, and eventually died of blood loss.

It was my 16th birthday that day. I hid under the bed and watched the blood that fell from the sky continue to gather and flow under the bed, soaking through my clothes. I lay there fearfully all night before I dared to climb out the next day.

After that, I naturally embarked on the road to avenge my parents. "

A very traditional revenge story, Sherlock didn't say anything, just drank wine with a gentle rhythm.

"I'm not too stupid. I learned some medical knowledge and some methods of killing. Then I also found clues to the murderer of my parents. Everything went smoothly. Finally, I found a man named 'Velvet'. The club's place seems to be called Black Swan Club, it doesn't matter."

Watson said calmly:

"This club is an extra-legal organization. Its theme is to execute some civilians and kill them with bloody methods, hanging, beheading, directly smashing the whole person's head into paste with a sledgehammer of more than 100 kilograms, and using screams and Visual impact to please the audience.

In order to continue to identify the murderer of my parents, I lurked in this organization and even became one of its peripheral receptionists.

But I didn't lurk for too long, because I really didn't like their unsightly killing methods, so I just killed everyone in the club. "

"Well, it sounds very logical." Sherlock nodded, but he knew that it was not over yet, because there was no element of "bloody" yet.

really

"Then I discovered that my parents were actually the chief executioners of this organization."

"." Sherlock was silent.

Watson smiled consciously and absurdly: "Haha, I had the same expression as you at that time, but there was something even more bloody;

That is, the survivors I rescued started to condemn me crazily, and one even picked up a knife and wanted to stab me to death.

The reason was that I discovered later. It turned out that all the victims in this club were actually voluntary. Some of them owed huge debts. If they could die here, then there would be an audience to repay them. All debts to prevent his wife and children from being sold into slaves in black laboratories. Others simply have no way to live anymore and want to use their lives to give their families a better future. Some people even simply have terminal illnesses. In fact, if they don't kill them, they will die little by little in a dark rental house. In short, I did not save them, but deprived them of the last value of their lives.

Oh, as for the person who killed my parents, he was actually a family member of the victim. His sister died at the hands of my parents, but he didn’t know it and thought his sister was kidnapped, so he rushed into my house and released her. All my parents' blood was drained.

Of course I found him in the end, and found out that at that time, he took the money from his sister's death and married a wife. I told him all this, and then shed his blood in front of her wife. . "

Watson spoke so plainly. In fact, the context of the story he told was very clear, but the black and white of right and wrong were completely confusing.

"For quite a long time, I didn't know what was right and what was wrong, let alone who deserved to die and who didn't deserve to die, so I joined the army and went to the front line. Of course, some things happened on the front line, but It has nothing to do with what I’m talking about today, because I still couldn’t figure it out until I left the front line.”

Having said this, he finally drank the wine in front of him:

"I know the life of the people at the bottom of the empire. A glass of wine like this costs 15 pence. I also know the life of the nobles on the other side of the Thames. They eat beef for almost every meal. I also know that when we criticize their arrogance and extravagance, When we waste time, people in the slums also scold us in the same tone, because if 15 pence is replaced by brown bread, it will be enough for a growing child to eat for four or five days.

I'm not judging who is right or wrong, I'm just a little scared, because if the analogy continues like this, are those who regard people's lives as performances and are willing to spend huge sums of money for it, also right?

So should those people I killed should be killed or should they not be killed? Did I do the right thing or not.

Fortunately, in the end, I discovered that what I care about is not right or wrong, and there is no need to distinguish between right and wrong. As I said, I am a person who pursues beauty, and the most beautiful things in the world, except for Lord Nightingale, are not actually Right or wrong, but fair.

You just asked me why I wanted to buy you a drink. In fact, you might as well ask me what I want.

I want fairness. I don’t want to distinguish between right and wrong, civilians and nobles, poor and rich, good and bad people, the Holy See and the government. I just want the world to become fairer, so that I should be able to I feel like every breath of air I breathe is more delicious than it is now.

As for you, my friend, you seem to have this ability, so I will treat you to a drink that day.

And today, I still ask. "

Sherlock didn't answer, he just looked at Watson quietly, his eyes were infected by the more dazzling light, and he couldn't distinguish the emotion in it for a moment.

This seemingly gentle doctor undoubtedly has the most exquisite appearance, the most gentlemanly etiquette, and the most cruel methods. He is definitely not a good person. It can only be said that he is an extremely contradictory person, so no one can think of it. His definition or pursuit of beauty turned out to be this.

However, once someone pursues this kind of thing and is willing to stick to it and stick to it, it will become particularly worthy of awe.

Sherlock picked up the wine glass and smiled helplessly: "I really don't want to admit it, but... I reluctantly propose a toast to you."

"Thank you." Watson said.

So, in this confusing light and shadow, two wine glasses collided together, and the soft sound was drowned out by the music. They raised their glasses to eyebrows and drank them all in one gulp. However, under the cover of the ripples of the wine, these two people His eyes invariably looked through the glasses at the two drinkers in the darkness of the tavern.

There seemed to be nothing wrong with those two people, but the belts were too tight and stuck tightly to the belly. This was not conducive to drinking at all, but was conducive to holding something, such as... a gun...