Sherlock Holmes

Watson looked at the girl in front of him. No, Nightingale had long since become a strong woman who could face the fire of war.

Over the past year or so, I have personally watched her change little by little. The constant tempering of her mind has made her more and more silent. She who used to squat down and cry just because of the numbers on a casualty report can now do so. Putting down the corpse in his arms, he resolutely rushed towards the other surviving Imperial soldiers.

In the entire history of the Holy Spirit, no one person has ever been able to save so many lives as she did.

But she never smiled again.

Maybe it was because she knew that Sherlock died for her, and that guy's life was like a thorn in her heart, making her sad and self-blame, but irreversible.

This time, however, Watson smiled when he saw her.

Watson laughed too.

The entire barracks was filled with cheers and cheers.

He wanted to smoke a cigarette, but the eyes in his pocket had been exhausted during the past few days of imprisonment. He looked at Nightingale, whose eyes were filled with anger just a second ago, but now he was laughing and crying at the same time. In tears, I couldn't help but feel a lot of emotions in my heart. I felt that Sherlock was really a bastard. He died without saying a word, and then after everyone got used to a world without him, he fell like a meteorite from the sky. into everyone's sight.

Does he think it's cool to show off like this?

Well, this guy seems to have always behaved in such a conceited, arrogant, pretentious, and unreasonable way.

The chains on his hands were being pulled. The ascetics and servants of God obviously felt that they had given Nightingale enough face, and they ordered Watson to leave quickly.

Watson did not struggle. Instead, he followed the other party's steps with great interest and said with a smile: "I hope you guys will be gentler. If I die, it will be a big deal."

…

General Patton's direct orders enjoyed the highest standards of execution in the expeditionary force.

Regardless of consumption or supplies, they headed towards the Gate of Hell. In the sky, almost all the airships in the war zone took off at the first time. All the soldiers gave up their rest after the war. The war armors were all moved again without any maintenance. When we boarded the transport team, we were surrounded by huge forces in all directions, as if a sudden general attack had just begun.

In General Patton's front office, a huge expedition map was spread out. This general, whose reputation had been resounding in the empire for nearly 30 years but who rarely set foot in his homeland, began to personally direct this massive rescue operation.

Sherlock is back!

He is not dead but under the pursuit of the demonic tide, no one can guarantee that he will live forever.

Almost all the reconnaissance airships gathered above the Gate of Hell, but there was no way to land because no one dared to get close to the huge black shadow. They could only hope that the guy could hold on until the rescue team arrived.

There was some noise outside the door.

There were also dull sounds of huge things hitting the ground.

The door to General Patton's office was pushed open, and Baskerville stared into his usually cold and ruthless eyes, suppressing the emotions in his heart:

"He is back?"

General Patton nodded seriously.

"I'll pick him up!"

"good!"

After an extremely simple conversation, the next second, Baskerville rushed out of the command room. In the heavy snow outside the door, a huge demon stood like a lighthouse in the sea.

A tiny figure jumped up, clinging to the huge body until the demon's shoulders. Then, his hound stretched out his hands, hissed off the thick armor attached to the body, and smashed them all to the ground with a rumble. , making the entire camp feel the vibration under their feet.

A gust of wind roared, and Baskerville disappeared into the white snow in an instant.

"gather!"

Major General Ulysses walked out of his simple barracks with his spear in hand.

In fact, before he walked out, his veteran team was already gearing up at the door.

Compared with the reorganized troops, no matter how special the equipment rations are, his hundred or so people cannot compete with them in terms of combat power. However, when it comes to emergency marches, there is no one in the entire expeditionary force. The team can keep up with them.

The attack route deep into the Gate of Hell has not yet been planned, so a guide is needed to lead the vast troops at the rear through the snowy territory that no one has set foot on in the fastest way possible.

This veteran team is naturally the best candidate.

at this time

"Take me with you!"

Nightingale appeared next to a chariot. The old veteran looked at her and made a 'come up' gesture without saying much.

Then he said to the old staff officer wearing glasses next to him: "I'll tell the troops behind me to hurry up and don't get lost."

In the side hall of the Holy Light Cathedral in the Holy City of Jerusalem, Moriarty sat on a chair, looking up at the moonlight in the sky, motionless. There was a remote telegraph machine beside him, and the front line was constantly coming from the loudspeaker. Some blurry photos of the information sent by the reconnaissance airship were drawn by the telegraph machine with a black and white and rough rubbing pen, but you can still see the face of the hateful guy running desperately in the picture.

With a "boom", the door behind him was pushed open, and then hit the wall hard.

No one dares to slam the door in front of the present Pope.

Except maybe Her Royal Highness the Saint.

Ms. Letitia Hudson walked in in a hurry without any polite interaction with the Pope. She grabbed a few photos on the table and stared at them while breathing heavily, not knowing what they were. Angry or surprised.

"All the troops that can be mobilized have set off. There is nothing we can do now but wait."

Moriarty seemed to understand the other party's mood and said calmly.

"But I'm a little confused, how could this news suddenly be known to Radio London's broadcast station, and now everyone in the city knows that the guy is still alive.

If the rescue operation fails, the military will have no place to show its face. "

"Did the civilian radio station tell this?" Mrs. Hudson was also stunned for a moment. She had just heard the news that the bastard was back. How could a civilian radio station also know about it so quickly?

But the next second, she seemed to know who was responsible.

In this world, the only person left who could get first-hand information from the military, who could quickly take down the London government and civilian radio stations, and who was so concerned about Sherlock's safety, was that woman.

In a bar, soft music was flowing slowly, and a bottle of valuable wine was placed in front of Irene. However, she did not seem to be in any mood to drink. She just looked at the cherry red liquid in the cup quietly, without any trace of emotion. Regardless, the alcohol evaporated in this short period of time is enough to feed a family of three for several months.

No one knows Irene's age. In fact, only she knows that she is 35 years old.

In the past few decades, maybe it was luck or maybe I was really capable. Anyway, I already had everything I wanted.

Money, connections, reputation, information network, and this most high-end bar throughout the empire.

A few years ago, the down-and-out aristocratic scientist who worked on his own has now become the emperor of the empire, and the scientific research projects he invested in have become indispensable combat resources for human expeditions.

She knew that she was a greedy businessman, but at this point, she didn't know what else she could pursue.

So after having too many problems, I finally returned to the original and simplest problem.

I am a woman, and I am quite old.

It’s time to find a man too.

Irene Adler's way of finding a man is very simple, that is, to find the right man.

Moreover, the man she likes does not necessarily have to marry her. Marriage is just a ridiculous act that binds two people together. But she must make sure that the man she likes has her own heart and can never forget herself. Even if she is with Someone was lying on a bed and thinking, 'How wonderful it would be if the person lying next to me was Miss Irene. ’

There is no use in tying up a person's body.

What she wants must be the other person’s soul!

This weird idea may not be understood by most people, but Erin doesn't care what others think.

"Miss, all the radio stations in the Diocese of Midessa and the six surrounding administrative districts have been taken care of. As for the remaining radio stations that are not planned to be under the control of the government, they have all been bought. There are also 115 newspapers that are printing Mr. Sherlock overnight. The news of my return, I believe, will be known to everyone in the empire early tomorrow morning."

Erin nodded, finally picked up the wine glass and took a sip.

Since Sherlock's death, she seemed to have lost the meaning of life. She had already achieved material satisfaction, but a rare man who met her eyes suddenly died, which left her feeling empty inside. .

Sometimes, she even felt that she should retire, find a small villa by the sea, and just live quietly.

It wasn't until the news of that guy's reappearance that the old woman felt that it was indeed too early to retire now.

Now that he is back, everyone must know about it. The military, the government, and all generals of the frontline expeditionary force must bear the pressure of all citizens of the empire.

Sherlock must be rescued without any accidents.

She didn't care how much of a sensation this would cause. Sherlock had to come back anyway.

So, within a few hours, this supposedly confidential news spread to every corner of the world.

In a soul visual device production base of the Academy of Life Sciences.

Catherine finished reviewing this batch of facility safety reports for the first time, and finally sat down on the chair tiredly, rubbing her sore eyebrows.

A cup of tea was brought to her side.

At this time, drinking coffee can indeed cheer her up again, but after the energy is over, it will only bring more turbulent fatigue.

Therefore, the secretary beside me understands my needs very well.

In fact, in the past few years, he seemed to have figured himself out.

"It looks like I'll get off work earlier today." The upright secretary said softly: "I know a very good restaurant. The ginger soup is particularly good. It's perfect for relieving fatigue."

Since the last dinner, this secretary always seems to want to invite him. Even though he has made it clear that all interactions with him are limited to work, he still enjoys it.

"The building materials need to be inspected next month, so I don't have time today." Catherine responded.

But what she didn't expect was that

"I'm done with it."

"." Catherine raised her head and looked at the other party in surprise.

"Those are not simple reconciliations of accounts, they are very tiring, so can you be rewarded with having dinner with me again?"

Catherine had little emotion.

In fact, she didn't even know what she had been doing all this time. She was busy and exhausted every day, but she didn't feel any happiness.

Sometimes she would wonder if it was because Sherlock's death had affected her mood, but she quickly thought that there was no relationship between Sherlock and herself from beginning to end. He was just her own life. A passer-by, and I would definitely not fall in love with that kind of person.

I am no longer young, and it seems that I should try to fulfill my father's last wish, although I have never loved or even had a good impression of anyone.

But isn’t marriage just a matter of situation?

"good."

Catherine replied.

Outside the window, the night wind was still there. Catherine tightened the collar of her windbreaker. A newsboy on the street shook the newspaper in his hand and shouted something unknown. The traffic whizzed by. Everything was so normal.

But suddenly, Catherine was startled for a moment, and then turned around. Her ears seemed to have heard something just now, and she walked towards the newsboy behind her in disbelief.

"Miss Catherine?"

His male secretary looked a little confused, and then he saw the woman he dreamed of picking up a newspaper. He seemed to have seen something, and suddenly froze in the gorgeous lights around him.

This incredible return is spreading like an uncontrollable tsunami in all levels of the empire.

But as the focus of everything, at this moment, he is still running desperately in the demonic tide.

"There's a third-level one in front of you, hide to the fucking left, go to the left!!" Sherlock roared: "You seem to be a bit slow!!"

"Don't stand and talk without your back hurting! I've been sleeping for more than a year without supplementing my nutrition, and I've been running with you for so long. Do you think I have a nuclear reactor in my belly, so I can never know when I'm tired?"

"Nuclear reactor?" Sherlock frowned, as if he had heard this word in another world: "What is a nuclear reactor?"

"Huh? What?"

"That's what you just said!"

"I didn't say it, you heard wrong."

Crimson murmured and forced himself to speed up a bit.

And just above their heads, some airships were still hovering. The people above looked at the magnificent scene below and kept shouting in their hearts: "Hurry up! Hurry up!"

No one noticed that on one of the airships that came over, there were some small black boxes that were supposed to be transported to the place where the Holy Light was laid.

And in these black boxes, the rectangular black bricks placed one after another lit up one after another as if they had suddenly received some signal!