Sherlock Holmes

There is no rainfall in this world. Even after the water on the surface is evaporated, there are not even clouds in the sky for several months. Instead, dust and small stones blown up by the wind are thrown up from time to time, like water flying in the sky. Like beads, they spurted out from the canyon cross-section wantonly, hitting everything within sight, leaving deep or shallow mud prints on the huge pipelines with a diameter of more than ten meters. The bullet holes and bullet marks are no longer so clear.

This is a water supply port on the outskirts of the city. On this ordinary day when sand and dust hit, the port, which had always been calm and monotonous, ushered in an increasingly fierce and extremely long battle, with the sound of pumps starting and the impact of sandstorms. The shooting could not cover up the too dense sound of gunfire. In the light yellow gale, the firelight caused by the shooting was particularly bright.

The battle has been going on for a long time, and the demon army under his control is about to join the battle, but the support army sent by the Survivor Alliance has still not shown up.

This speed was much slower than Sherlock expected. It seemed that the military had intervened in the riots in the city and had caused them a lot of trouble. Roughly speaking, at least 40% of the military strength was contained, and because large weapons could not enter the city, the loss of combat effectiveness was even greater than this.

A whistling bullet flew past Sherlock's ear, carrying a scorching wave of air, but Sherlock didn't even blink. He held a pistol in his hand that was not outstanding, but it somewhat obscured his vision. In the dust, every shot can hit a government soldier in the forehead. He just stood there in the fierce battle, pulling the trigger steadily and rhythmically. Every bullet seemed to have passed through the last minute. Precise calculations pass through the smoke, through the firelight, through someone's head, and take away each and every living life.

Of course, these people also have their own tasks, their responsibilities as soldiers. In their senses, the death of the traitor is a matter of course, and in this whole world, Sherlock is indeed the most damned person. Those killed by traitors will definitely be classified as sacrifices. They have dedicated their lives for the sake of the human race. They are noble, great and respected.

But when Sherlock killed these people, he didn't feel any disturbance in his heart.

People from two time periods are separated by 800 years. In the long river of history, the distance is actually only a fleeting glance. Why are they so incompatible?

This is a historical issue, a philosophical issue, an issue of resources, energy, hatred, human nature, etc. It is not Sherlock's issue anyway.

The hat he had worn for more than half a year could not block the oncoming wind and sand. The gravel and gravel streaked down his face. He squinted his eyes and still calmly pulled the trigger, letting the hot bullet casings fly around him. Flying and clinking on the ground.

In only a few seconds, more than a dozen people died under Sherlock's gun. Then, the sand under his feet was suddenly lifted up, and a mutated creature with no shape suddenly sprang out from below. Then he grabbed the body of a certain Alliance soldier and dragged him into a hole with a diameter of only a dozen centimeters.

This long battle, which lasted for several hours, suddenly turned into a one-sided situation after the sudden addition of these mutant creatures. Five minutes later, everything was over. The Alliance army was completely wiped out, and a group of people composed of all kinds of people The gathered mob quickly snatched the opponent's vehicle, tried their best to find the clothes that were still intact on the body, and then put them on themselves.

Sherlock also quickly boarded the co-pilot of a chariot, shook the dust off his body, and judging from his expression, there was no trace of nervousness at all.

But not being nervous doesn’t mean not being sad.

In fact, he can come here, the underground abandoned subway tunnel can be unobstructed, there can be so many desperadoes around him who are not inferior to the regular army, he can get on these two cars, and speed towards the wasteland in the distance, For everything here, I don’t know how many people have to sacrifice their lives for it.

People in this world have long expelled traitors, thinking that he is the most damnable existence, but when they think of so many people dying for them, there is a heavy feeling in the heart that should be numb.

This is not due to Shylock's kindness, he has never had anything to do with this word, but because these people who died for him are essentially his enemies, and the reason why they are fighting for themselves is He sacrificed his life, but the reason turned out to be an illusory hope that even he himself didn't know how to realize.

"Your skills are very good. It seems that my loss to you before was a normal result." The tall and thin man with radiation sickness whose name he did not know said with a smile in sign language. It may be because his palms are not suitable for shooting. Maybe it's because he loves the bloody fighting method of flesh-on-flesh. In short, in the battle just now, he used his hands as big as faceplates to break the necks of more than 20 Alliance soldiers, and he was also seriously injured. At this time, an accompanying doctor was digging out the shrapnel embedded in his bones.

Sherlock lowered his head, and the vehicle was driving in the deserted area on the edge of the city. The road was constantly bumpy. It was really hard for him to imagine that one day, he would be fighting side by side with a group of people on the other side of the Gate of Hell, but he deliberately did not want to know. The other person’s name.

In this way, without the obstruction of the buildings in the city, the surrounding wind became stronger and stronger. The windshield was crackled by the gravel thrown up by the vehicle in front, and the voices of the people in the car seemed to be louder.

Many people died and many were injured. The smell of blood mixed with the unique choking smell of dust filled the car, but for some reason, these people seemed to be in a good mood.

Vaguely, Sherlock actually heard some people discussing whether people in this world could really go to the other world through the cracks in time and space, then would they be able to see the magical scenery like the grassland.

It is said that in winter, everything is white, and in autumn, the grass, trees and leaves will turn golden and fall to the ground, paving golden roads.

However, this statement will be seriously corrected by some people, because in the records, it seems that the seasons will change differently with different regions. For example, in some places, even in winter, it will not snow, and some trees will Yellow leaves don’t appear in winter, like on pine trees.

This surprising ecology seems to have attracted the emotion of many people. They are even arguing about whether they will be burned if they jump into the sea in the summer. The conclusion is that they will not, because the ocean is very big.

People can't understand what kind of sense this [big] is. They can only remain silent and yearn for it, as if they see the blue sky and ocean merging into one at the end of their sight.

"If I could go to that world, I would definitely find a beautiful girl. I actually want a child. Once the child is born, I will wait outside the delivery room for the child to be pushed out, instead of government officials pushing a child I don't know at all." The two-year-old child I knew was carried to the door of my house.

In that case, I will definitely treat that child as a treasure."

Maybe as a life, the concept of reproduction still remains in the hearts of these people. The desperado smiled, imagining that he could have a daughter, watch her grow up, and then take her to see the sea.

Just like that, he stopped breathing while holding his hands to the unstoppable bleeding in his chest, laughing.

His death re-presented the reality in front of everyone, and everyone became silent. The smell of gunpowder smoke and blood filled the car again, occasionally floating out of the car window, being carried away by the strong wind, and disappearing in the increasingly desolate Gobi Desert.

finally

"They're coming."

The driver in front said calmly.

Sherlock did not raise his head. In fact, he had already judged from the trembling of the car and the roar in the wind and sand that in the distance, countless tanks and military heavy weapons were speeding towards him.

The chaos in the city has involved too many combat forces of the government forces, and the wave of convoys he is in is actually only a small branch of the armed forces under his control.

The old man who was called the breeder had accumulated a very scattered network of contacts over the past few decades, but they were very useful. It was as if no matter where he went, someone would take him to a secret place for repairs. Being able to contact the manufacturers selling arms, being able to find the desperadoes waiting to fight, bombs, vehicles, and food. The most important thing is that no one in the military should know their whereabouts.

But even now, there are still such a large number of troops heading in their direction. The military power of this world seems to be beyond Sherlock's imagination.

"Don't worry, as long as you pass this group of people, you will be completely out of the government security area. It will be difficult for them to find you in the wilderness."

The tall and thin man next to him gestured in sign language.

Conspiracies and calculations can indeed reduce the military's combat power in this world, but the ultimate goal still requires bloodshed to achieve the goal.

"It's just that too many people have died because of you, and the living people will also be charged with betraying humanity. We hope that you can return to your beautiful world. We also know that as long as you live If there is a space-time rift, then you can easily make everything we do become a useless joke.

There is indeed indelible hatred between my world and your world, but there is no hatred between you and me. There are still many people around me who are not desperate. We want to see the blue sky, clouds, grass, and see those things that have played a vital role in history. Things that are only recorded in books.

I choose to believe you.

No reason.

Therefore, I would like to say thank you in advance for those future generations who can see the blue sky. "

The man couldn't speak, and communication in sign language was of course much more complicated than oral communication. Therefore, the man spent a long time making many gestures in front of Sherlock. His eyes were widely spaced, and he looked at Sherlock. He looked a little funny, but during the whole process, his eyes never left Sherlock.

Sherlock took a deep drag on the cigarette, and his chapped lips stuck to the cigarette butt. He licked it with his tongue and said nothing because the other party couldn't hear him. He just made the simplest action.

He nodded.

I don’t know if I’m saying that I heard it, or if I’m saying that I will save the world.

But it doesn't matter anymore. After nodding, the tall and thin man in front of him smiled very happily. In fact, his height, terrifying appearance, and crazy posture when killing people always make people subconsciously forget that he Just a kid who just came of age.

Sherlock also smiled and looked at the approaching chariot not far away. The fighter jets in the sky roared and passed overhead. The armed men beside him stood up with difficulty, clenched the firearms in their hands, and prepared to start. This last life-and-death battle.

Time is a very wonderful thing. It can turn love into indifference, turn the sea into mountains, turn a vibrant planet into a bloody hell of despair, and make people who are 800 years apart become each other. The most hated and most irreconcilable mortal enemy.

On the grand stage of history, there are all kinds of people and endless things. This is an immeasurable number, some are great, some are unknown, some are arrogant, some are humble, some are earth-shattering, some are understatement, in short there are Too many things continue to flow over time.

But those who can leave footprints are actually only a very small part.

It was early spring in the year 291 of the Sacred Calendar.

The entire human empire was immersed in the joyful atmosphere of victory.

Unknowingly, the most magnificent expedition to the Gate of Hell in human history had lasted for a year.

The expeditionary brigade composed of the Holy See's Holy Army and the government army finally embarked on an incredible new army route on the Antarctic continent. The towering Holy Light Temple was built six months ago after the current Pope visited in person in an airship. Officially joined the expedition force, constantly establishing connections with the Holy Light along the way to escort this magnificent expedition.

The technology for controlling wild demons has evolved by leaps and bounds in this year. As the expeditionary force continues to move forward, the combat power that should have been continuously consumed has become stronger and stronger, even reaching an unprecedented level of terror. The popularization of electric energy has also allowed the production of weapons on the back line and the finances within the empire to show a perfect trend.

In the eyes of ordinary people, the future has never been so exciting.

However, it seems that since one day a year ago, many people have been careful to avoid a sad topic or character.

This person became well known to people, also a year ago.

Before that, no one seemed to know that there was actually such a person who was the greatest contributor to the success of the current emperor's accession to the throne, the powerful detective who solved the murder case of Professor Charles Darwin, and the main promoter of the technology controlled by wild demons. The author was a respected frontline soldier on the Redeker Strait and the savior of Lord Nightingale.

However, like all heroes in history.

Such a person who was blessed with many honors and respected by everyone finally fell into this era full of hope.