Sherlock Holmes

The old man had a very bad attitude towards Watson just now.

But Watson didn't take it seriously at all. He still maintained a polite attitude, lowered his head, and got into the other party's 'home'.

The space in an abandoned steam boiler is definitely not very large, only about 5 square meters. Except for a piece of cardboard and plastic piled up in the corner, which can barely be called a [bed], it is just some scavenged items. garbage, old cans, and a small stove built with blue bricks.

Naturally, the steam boiler cannot provide much warmth, so the steel surface that has been blown by the night wind for a long time is exuding waves of chill.

Watson's expensive attire and vague aristocratic aura were a bit out of place in a place like this, but he didn't mind. He casually pulled over a piece of cardboard and sat on it.

The old man also approached the blue brick stove, tremblingly picked up a match with one hand, struck it on the ground, and lit the withered grass in the stove.

Judging from the few moves he made, there must be something wrong with his legs.

Finally, there was some warmth in this 'hut', and the dim light intertwined the old man's face with light and dark. It was vaguely possible to see that his skin was much more weathered than his actual age, with wrinkles like scars, and some scavengers. Unique wounds, and a missing ear on one side.

Not only is one ear missing, but the cheek and part of the cheekbone on that side are also missing, revealing some muscle tissue that has long since dried up, making the entire facial contour look extremely ferocious but pitiful. It was as if a speeding steam train passed by his head many years ago, shaving away all the facial structures it touched.

Oh, in addition, it can be seen from his empty sleeve that the old man has also lost one arm.

I really don’t know what kind of misery he has experienced, let alone how he survived in this era like this.

"Hey, kid, I can't sleep." The old man smiled, his voice was extremely rough and hoarse: "Didn't I tell you that if you can't sleep in the future, you can come and chat with me at any time. Old man, I don't have anything else. I don't have time. There are plenty of them.”

He had tried his best to show some kindness and care as an elder, but his eyes never left the wine bottle next to Watson.

Watson seemed to know what kind of old guy the other party was, and handed the bottle over with a smile.

The old man immediately stopped pretending, reached out and snatched it away, pulled off the cork of the wine and poured a few swigs into his mouth.

"Uh-huh-uh-uh--"

The pungent liquid streaked across his throat, making his entire face contort, making him look even more miserable.

"Tell me, what do you want me to count this time?" After the old man drank the wine, he seemed to feel comfortable. He lazily leaned back on the bed, held the wine bottle in his arms, and warmed the fire next to him. , as if this is all the happiness he pursues.

"I met a friend and I want to know what kind of person he is?"

"Friend?" The old man was slightly startled, and then showed a lewd smile.

"A man, a friend who drinks together."

"Oh, my drinking friends." The old man's smile instantly faded: "Ahem, of course, I'll be there a long time ago."

As he said that, he propped himself up, sat next to the flame, and drank a few more sips of wine. With the strength of the wine that hit his forehead, he slowly closed his eyes, and began to talk nonsense in his mouth. Start talking.

I kept chanting like this for more than ten seconds.

"Aha----"

The old man suddenly opened his eyes, as if he had received some kind of divine enlightenment, and said with a serious face: "Your friend is an interesting person."

"."

"."

"Gone?"

"It's gone." The old man said firmly, hugging the wine bottle in his arms tighter.

"Is this such an ambiguous answer?"

"How can this be called ambiguous?!" The old man looked solemn, then cleared his throat and changed into an impassioned tone: "Mr. John Holtz, you are the proud man of heaven, your name will be in the future It will resound throughout the entire empire, and you will reach the pinnacle of life step by step, and in this process, you will definitely need a friend. Obviously, you have found this person, and this is the beginning of your glorious life!"

"My name is John Watson, not Holtz."

"Oh." The old man smoothed his remaining hair and immediately returned to a calm look: "The name is just a code name. My divination will consume a lot of energy. It is understandable that I occasionally misremember a letter or two."

"Really?" Watson let out a weak breath: "Actually, sometimes I really doubt whether you can do divination."

"Of course I will!" The old beggar sat up straight and said unconvinced: "Don't look at me now, but I was all-powerful back then! Countless demons and strong men died in my hands. The Holy See's high-level contract People are afraid of me after hearing the news, and in the entire empire, only Dante, the old immortal, can fight with me."

Calling Dante Alighieri an immortal is such an outrageous statement that only a homeless man with nothing could say.

"Okay, okay, you've said these things many times, but how could someone as powerful as you end up like this, sitting on a street corner telling a little guy like me about the heroic deeds of the past?"

"Hmph!" Seeing that the other party had no intention of taking the wine back, the old man felt relieved and slumped down beside the bed, showing the typical decadence of a tramp:

"I'm a little injured, right? What's more, people who have reached my level have no pursuit of basic necessities, food, housing, and transportation. Living in a gorgeous hall is almost the same as living in a shack on the street. Look at Dante Didn't that old guy also go back to his hometown town to spend the rest of his life?

As for why I tell you about my heroic image back then, hey, you kid, don’t be too proud.

That's not because I think you have talent, and I see the shadow of me when I was young in you! "

"Are you sure it's not because I'm the only one willing to bring you wine?"

"Of course not, didn't I say that you will change the entire empire in the future!" the old man said.

"Then give me back the wine."

"Don't even think about it!"

The old man yelled without thinking, holding the wine bottle in his arms with his only remaining hand, as if he was holding the whole world tightly.