Sherlock Holmes

Director Lestrade doesn't like Sherlock.

In addition to the above two points, there are of course the third point, the fourth point, and many, many more points that follow.

Even though this detective once caught the murderer of the director's daughter and skinned him alive in front of him, he still hated Sherlock.

Because he could clearly feel that this guy was not arresting criminals for the sake of justice. He was not even arresting criminals for money because he habitually made those criminals look indescribable every time. Although criminals have no human rights, But we cannot let them die in prison, let alone appear on the execution ground in such a miserable manner that it can 'disrupt the people's hearts'.

It costs a lot of money to deal with this kind of thing, which makes Sherlock get very little bounty every time.

but!

He still continued to do this happily. The Lestrade Bureau seriously suspected that he arrested criminals just to vent his anger, relieve his boredom, or for some other shameful reason.

"If my daughter's soul hadn't been a little grateful to you, I would have listed you as the most vicious criminal!" the director cursed while suppressing his anger.

Sherlock smiled disapprovingly: "Come on, I have dealt with so many troublesome criminals for you over the years. You know it clearly, and you can't put me into the ranks of criminals. I have never offended the empire." At least it’s legal, you haven’t caught any evidence.”

Lestrade was holding back his anger!

Indeed, there was no evidence that Sherlock had committed a crime, but he knew clearly that this guy was definitely the most terrifying and evil criminal, and what he had done was definitely more crazier than all the death row inmates in the underground prison put together.

But unfortunately, no one knew what he was going to do.

No one knows where he comes from, how old he is, his past experiences, or even whether the name [Sherlock Holmes] is real.

Everyone only knew that he claimed to be a detective and lived in a small rented house on Baker Street.

Every once in a while, he would show up at the police station carrying the big blood-soaked suitcase, and then exchange some of the reward money for a certain criminal in the suitcase who had suffered a bloody fate for eight lifetimes.

That's all.

And if you ask him questions like what he usually does, or his ideals, goals, and why he wants to be a detective, he will just spread his hands in a matter-of-fact manner and answer with a smile:

"Life is too dull. I just don't want my brain to get rusty and I just want to have some fun."

A few more minutes passed like this, and Lestrade didn't ask any more questions, and the bastard in front of him wouldn't say much anyway, until the Blues brand cigarette burned out little by little.

"Da~da~da~"

In the corridor outside the lounge, I suddenly remembered a series of footsteps, approaching from far away.

Director Lestrade and Sherlock looked over at the same time. Immediately afterwards, a tall nun and a thin and stooped old man appeared at the door of the reception room.

It was Miss Catherine and the priest.

Lestrade immediately stood up and bowed slightly respectfully.

At this time, Sherlock was still sitting.

This was not because he wanted to show a cold and disrespectful attitude in front of the Vatican clergy, but because his eyes incredibly fell on the modified body-shaping nun uniform!

And finally showed a rare hint of embarrassment and surprise.

"Let's go, Mr. Holmes." Catherine raised her head slightly and looked at him: "Time waits for no one."

The setting sun passed through the gaps in the car windows, and the dust in the air looked like strange tiny creatures, making people unconsciously want to hold their breath.

Sherlock sat in the carriage, with thick woolen blankets covering his butt and feet;

He never expected that he would get on the Holy See's carriage in this way, and he never expected that the nun he met before would have such a high status.

Looking out the window, the noisy square is still full of people. This is the lower city. Everywhere you can see, most of them are porters carrying wooden boxes, newsboys shouting barefoot, and people in the alleys next to the pub. There are several scantily clad women, so their business must not be very good this month, otherwise they wouldn't come out to solicit customers at this time.

The carriage axles are equipped with shock-absorbing technology, so no bumps are felt at all. Along the way, after passing several urban checkpoints and huge gear lift doors, the noise gradually fades away, and the team arrives at the upper city.

The streets became wide and flat, and the buildings on both sides looked solemn and regular. Some exquisite metal pipes clung to the walls, like carefully pruned ivy, shining in the weak sunset.

About half an hour later, when the sun finally disappeared completely, the gas lamp came on, and the carriage stopped.

Sherlock got out of the carriage a little sleepily. The night wind was a bit cold. In front of him was a clean small street, which may have been blocked long ago. There were no pedestrians around, only security guards wearing steam armor. Patrolling around, the heavy steel collided with the bluestone pavement, covering up the sound of high-pressure steam ejected from time to time.

"Sir!"

Seeing the carriage, a sheriff rushed over quickly. His mechanical arm clenched his fist on his left chest and half-knelt in front of Catherine.

This is the inherent etiquette for subordinates in the church towards their superiors, but the steam armor is too thick. Even if she is half-kneeling, she is still much taller than Catherine.

"Master Priest."

He saluted respectfully to the thin old man who had just stepped out of the car. But in this gap, his eyes accidentally looked over the old priest's shoulder and saw Sherlock behind him.

The gas lamp above his head stretched his shadow extremely long, and at this moment Sherlock just took out a cigarette and lit it.

The Sheriff's eyes almost popped out!

Even though the commander was right in front of him, he couldn't hold back his voice:

“No smoking allowed here!!!”