Sherlock Holmes

Still alive!

With Nightingale here, as long as he is still alive, it is the best news.

She rushed into the cave with all her strength, and saw the thin body leaning against the ice wall. For a moment, she didn't even recognize him. The blood all over her body was frozen into red ice, and it was so pale that it almost matched the surrounding snow. His face was swollen, his messy hair was covered with sticky plasma, and it was blown apart by the cold wind. The stubble on his face made him look like a miserable tramp.

Nightingale's heart was beating wildly. She felt sadness, resentment, and self-blame, but at the same time she was still a little aggrieved. Although as long as she was here, the man in front of her would not die, but seeing his appearance, it seemed that You can think of how much hardship he has endured and how much suffering he has suffered during this period of time.

Although he fell into the gate of hell to save himself.

But just like all women who uncontrollably lose part of their ability to think logically when they are excited, Nightingale's aggrieved heart was trembling.

Why did it take you so long to come back?

Why should I feel guilty every day for more than a year?

Why did it happen again when I was used to despair?

How abominable!

What a bastard!

You have to apologize to me, truly apologize!

She was mumbling completely unreasonable words over and over in her heart, but she suddenly rushed forward and hugged the cold body. The temperature changed in the hug, and her vision gradually blurred.

The soldiers around him were all at a loss.

Some people outside the cave were also stunned. They looked at each other, not knowing what to do. Nightingale hugged a man. Although it was heard in the army a long time ago that there seemed to be some relationship between the two people. , but when people actually saw this scene, it was still a bit difficult to accept it.

But when I thought about this man's identity, I felt relieved.

So next.

Anyway, since Ms. Nightingale was here, no one would die, so the people around began to cautiously exit the cave, not to disturb the reunion of the man and woman.

The temporarily formed rescue army left the mountainous area and moved forward steadily in the flat snowfield. The tracks crushed the frozen soil and made a clicking sound. This feeling made Sherlock feel at ease, because he had already been there for a long time. I haven't heard this sound in years.

There is the scorching sun and yellow sand on one side, and the cold wind and frozen soil on the other. This kind of contrasting opposition was deliberately constructed in the novel, but I didn't expect that it would actually be played out in my life experience.

In the cockpit of a battlefield ambulance, Sherlock and Nightingale felt the slight sway beneath them, as if they were sitting on a boat on the stream. Their noses were filled with the smell of disinfectant, and their ears were filled with the dull sound of the engine. There was a roar, but the heartbeats and breathing between each other were so clear.

Nightingale was slightly sleepy, and her hand was still holding Sherlock's. The latter seemed to be shaking slightly because the car had hit a piece of broken ice. Nightingale opened her eyes, and the two of them were standing next to each other. They looked at each other in this somewhat cramped carriage.

"As for holding it all the time?" Sherlock said awkwardly.

In the past year, when he faced this face, his first reaction was to run away. Who made Lilith possess Nightingale's genes? The two of them looked so similar.

But now, he was holding hands with the owner of this beautiful face in a crowded environment. This feeling was too subtle for him.

"Of course, before I was in London, I couldn't faint after treating you for a long time. Although you don't seem to have a big problem now, who knows if you will suddenly suffer from a serious illness and die directly."

"I just went to hell, and I didn't drink all the petri dishes in the virus library of the Academy of Life Sciences. Is it so scary to say that?" Sherlock said with a bitter smile.

"I'm a doctor, and I say that's all!" Nightingale said, and then she tightened her grip, feeling the touch from her palms, and added:

"Okay, I admit that I have a crush on you, but the current hand-holding is only based on the relationship between the patient and the patient. Don't feel any psychological pressure."

If anyone else said this, it would be extremely narcissistic, but when it comes to Nightingale, it seems extremely reasonable.

Sherlock still remembers that one day about two years ago, he was blocked by numerous reporters at the entrance of the rear camp in Redker Channel, and the microphone was inserted into his mouth.

"I have a lot of questions to ask, but I don't know what to ask at the moment." Nightingale leaned in the carriage. She had said before that she always felt at ease when she was next to Sherlock. The feeling evaporated exponentially in her heart, so much so that she wanted to talk about something after the long separation, but it was stuck in her throat.

Outside the ambulance was a blue sky and a golden sun that had not been seen for a long time. Sherlock discovered many secrets on the other side of the rift in time and space. If these secrets were revealed, they would definitely plunge the whole world into the most terrifying chaos. The kind that can't be pulled back.

But he didn't care about this, he just smiled and said:

"Your summoned demon is a humanoid, you know that, right."

"Well, haven't you seen it before?" Nightingale responded, not knowing why Sherlock suddenly asked this question.

"So, if there are many existences like your contracted devil in hell, you should be able to accept it."

The girl in front of her nodded. As the person involved, of course she could accept it, but vaguely, she felt that there must be some more terrifying fact that was about to subvert her cognition.

really

"On the other side of hell, there are human beings with cities, civilization, governments, high-rise buildings, roads, schools, and hospitals, and you are actually originally from that world."

In a very ordinary tone, the man in front of him leaned on the stretcher of the ambulance and said the words in an extremely calm manner that made Nightingale's whole body tremble.

She just froze in the carriage. Even though she had been traveling around the world since she was a child and was used to seeing death, injury and blood on the battlefield, even though she was admired by the whole world, her state of mind and vision had long been honed to be strong and extremely resilient. But at this moment, she was still confused.

He just sat there blankly, his body swaying slightly with the car, for a long, long time.

But in the end, she recovered. She did not question the authenticity of the news, because she did not think that the man in front of her had escaped back to this world with a narrow escape. In the first chat with her, she was about to start. Such a joke.

Of course, she had no question about how she came from that world to this world, because before Sherlock, there was only one person who traveled back and forth between hell and earth.

"Perhaps, I should meet Lord Dante sometime."

The girl murmured, with a complicated wry smile on her face.

…

A few days later, the rescue army finally sailed out of the mountainous area and entered the vast white wilderness. The war airship hovering in the sky finally found a place to stay, landed on a relatively flat snowfield, and then carried Sherlock and Nan. Dingle, along with some of the wounded, flew to the nearest military base.

When the hatch opened again, Sherlock, who finally had some blood on his face, finally walked down the steps with Nightingale's support.

Although this military base is unfamiliar.

But the familiar uniforms of the expeditionary force, the familiar atmosphere, and the familiar eyes all made Sherlock feel that he had had an extremely long dream before.

Countless eyes looked in the direction of the airship.

People here have seen Sherlock's name in newspapers countless times during this year, and heard his past deeds on the radio countless times, but they have seen a living person, and a man who has risen from the dead. Everyone was surprised and silent. Only the gasps of suppressed excitement echoed in the camp.

A person in charge of a military base stood at the strongest side of the crowd early. When he saw Sherlock walking down the steps, he quickly went up to him and hit his chest hard with the straightest posture. This was the Crusader. The most commonly used military salute.

"Welcome back!"

The briefest few syllables, followed by a muffled bang, and everyone around them beat their chests hard.

Of course Shylock does not have a military position, but all the expeditionary forces feel that this is the most respectable person.

Even when he saw Ms. Nightingale supporting his arm with her thin body, barely keeping his balance, she didn't feel jealous. Instead, there was a smile on her lips that she didn't quite understand.

Sherlock is too tired

Fortunately, this welcome ceremony is not so grand. Everyone knows that in this situation, what the hero needs most is to rest.

Um. That's right, hero.

Although no one really calls him that now, everyone knows that it will be a matter of time. The imperial government is not a fool. Under this situation, when the imperial expedition is in full swing, the person who saved Nightingale has come again. With everyone concerned, he miraculously came back from the dead.

All kinds of events converged on one person, so it was the most logical thing to praise him as a hero.

Even children know it.

War needs heroes.

In the quiet barracks, there was an extremely comfortable bed. Sherlock didn't even know where he got this bed. It was freezing cold, but he actually got a very soft spring mattress. This brand seemed to be quite famous. , those pension officials on the back line probably don’t get this treatment.

There was almost no sound outside the window. The soldiers who were training had deliberately placed themselves far away from the barracks without anyone disturbing them. Beside the bed, Nightingale was leaning on a chair and peeling an apple. In this position, It is extremely difficult to transport fruits, especially if they are not frozen. There are probably only a few in a box.

"Although the things you said sound like nonsense, I still won't tell anyone." Nightingale cut the apple into pieces and placed it beside the bed. Sherlock could reach out and reach it. To: "Children in human embryo factories are not born in the mother's womb, and the chance of suffering from radiation sickness is 70%. If these are true, then the world over there is too miserable."

It may be that Nightingale was born on the other side, or it may be that she is naturally receptive. After a long period of narration and an even longer period of silence, she accepted all of this abruptly. .

Three days later.

It is impossible for Nightingale to have a patient who was bedridden for a long time. In fact, Sherlock's time was mainly used to recover from long-term hunger and the mental fatigue caused by not sleeping for a long time.

His injuries healed on the way back.

The color of the sky was not red, and Sherlock actually felt a little uncomfortable these days. An airship arrived over another military base, and then it was swept by strong air currents and slowly descended.

Some heads of other military regions, generals of major defense lines, and some very prestigious veterans on the expedition route stepped off the airship. It is very embarrassing to say that these people just came to take a look at this creation. He shook hands with the miraculous hero, expressed his condolences, and set off back to his respective troops because he still had military affairs to attend to.

This weird thing of traveling a long distance, shaking hands and leaving, happened one after another in the past few days, making Sherlock very uncomfortable.

Moreover, he saw some reports about himself in a corner of the military area. They were all whitewashed propaganda by the government over the past year. Sherlock got goosebumps all over his body when he saw them, and then he saw them again. In the past few days, his photo was posted on the headlines in the Holy Journal. He felt even more numb. The most terrifying thing was that when he walked into the camp, all the soldiers would suddenly stand at attention when they saw him. Salute, from time to time you can still hear the sound of the radio coming from some barracks, and you can hear your name inside.

Sherlock never thought that one day he would become like this.

However, he seemed to sense that something was wrong.

Because during this period of time, he has met everyone he should have met, and people who have come all the way to express condolences have also come. That boy Moriarty even sent a telegram, which said arrogantly. With words like "So you're not dead", General Patton and Mr. Franklin also expressed their condolences.

However, there is one person missing.

Even if that guy is busy, he should be able to find time after so many days.

besides

Hasn't he always been by Nightingale's side? Why has he disappeared now?

Nightingale stood not far away, watching over the past three days, Sherlock's body had gradually recovered from serious problems, so she walked over and said with a somewhat solemn expression:

“I don’t know what you will do after hearing this, so I can’t tell you while you are still weak, but now, I think it’s almost the same.

Watson killed a servant of God.

Then he was taken away by the Temple of Holy Light."