Sherlock Holmes

The empire's technological level is far from reaching the level of producing equipment such as [radar].

Therefore, anti-air weapons still remain at the level of "aiming with the naked eye", which means that as long as the airship reaches a certain height, there is no way to effectively attack it.

Baskerville stood in front of the hound, watching the airship rapidly climb to a height beyond his reach, and then continue to rise until it disappeared above the clouds, his eyebrows furrowed tightly.

He didn't see the sign of the airship, and he couldn't determine its route even if he thought about it. There was no way to contact every aviation station in the entire empire to wait for its landing in advance.

It seems that Shylock successfully survived the Empire's first siege against him.

But what can this do? The empire has no borders, so where can he hide? He always has to eat and live. Does he want to hide in the mountains, farm the fields, and live a life similar to society? A life cut off from intersection?

If that were the case, he would probably be able to bear it before anyone else.

So Baskerville had no anger, no complaints or self-blame, just silently looking at the clouds above his head.

He knew that nothing would change, he was just trying his best to delay death a little.

Morning fog, a night of first snow, and the first winter in the holy city of Jerusalem.

Since two years ago, the Archpope of the Holy See ordered that sunflowers will no longer be cultivated. Since then, the entire Jerusalem has changed into a different look. The dazzling golden light that once covered the Holy City for centuries has gradually become sparse, and here began to have Between day and night, the sky also has differences between cloudy and sunny, and the styles of the four seasons gradually have distinct outlines. If it were not for the magnificent religious buildings that are still standing, the incredibly huge Holy Grail of the Gospel, and the occasional religious missions that can be seen on the street Tuan, this city will really be in a trance, just like those ordinary metropolises.

The morning fog gradually dissipated, and the nuns were sweeping away the snow. These cleaning tasks that most people know how to do are so unfamiliar to the devout people in the Holy City. Fortunately, there are not as many worshipers as before, so the snow will not be trampled into mud.

Sherlock opened his eyes. He didn't know how many days he had been in coma. But at the last moment of his memory, he saw crimson falling from the sky, covering him tightly.

Fortunately, this guy has his own consciousness. Otherwise, if a normal contractor falls into a coma, the contracted demon will definitely turn into a sculpture.

He sat up with difficulty, feeling excruciating pain from the broken bones and wounds in his limbs. He lifted up the white robe on his body and saw the densely packed wounds on his body.

The effect of that bullet is really terrible. Not only can it interfere with a person's mind, but it can also block the contractor's physical self-healing ability. No wonder that guy Ulysses is very sure that no matter who he is, as long as he is hit, he will There is no possibility of resistance.

Looking around again, the room was burning with an exquisitely crafted fireplace, and there was the fragrance of pine in the air. Some books about religion and history were neatly placed in the cabinets on the wall, including a book called "Study on the Failure of Religious Integration in the Pre-Sacred Era." "The cover page is slightly wrinkled, which seems to be caused by friction when it is stuffed into the bookshelf. Someone has been reading this book frequently these days.

At this moment, there was a click, and the door to the room opened. A nun came in with a hot water basin. She saw Sherlock sitting on the edge of the bed and turned her head to look at her. She was so surprised that she opened her eyes. Mouth, fortunately the basin did not fall to the ground in panic.

"Are you awake?! I'll call someone right away!"

After saying that, the nun hurriedly ran out of the room, the messy footsteps echoing in the corridor outside the door.

The second person who walked in was an old acquaintance——Moran.

As a maid, even if she wears the simplest servant attire, it is always difficult for people to connect with other service personnel. Especially during the period before the Great Expedition, Moran became a As the spokesperson of the Pope, she travels around the empire and travels between dioceses. At the age of less than 30, she already has experience that exceeds that of ordinary people and a touch of majesty that disappears and appears.

"To make a long story short, this is Jerusalem." Moran looked at Sherlock who had woken up, and was a little surprised, because according to the doctor, it would take at least half a month for this guy to break down the effects of the medicine in his body and regain consciousness.

But when I thought that this guy couldn't be regarded as a normal human being, I felt relieved.

"Ms. Irene Adler and John Watson brought you here. Now the only place in the entire empire that can take you in is here, and the above two cannot stay here for a long time. After all, if their whereabouts are exposed , will cause more trouble."

Sherlock listened calmly, and then nodded. In fact, after waking up, he had already guessed the general outline of the matter. They were the only ones who could transport Crimson over in an airship at this time, and then think of Crimson. From the previous situation, it seems that Catherine and Nightingale were also involved in this incident, but they cannot show up, otherwise the former will drag the Academy of Life Sciences in, and the latter will cause immeasurable social impact.

Although they all want to help themselves, they cannot push the entire empire into chaos like themselves.

Between the turbulent empire and himself, a wanted criminal, each of them was in great distress.

Smiling helplessly, Sherlock tried to stand up: "How long can I hide here?"

"As long as you don't leave this building, you can hide forever." Moran said.

Sherlock did not answer, but Moran knew that he was not a person who would imprison himself. If he wanted to keep him in one place forever, it would be better for him to drag his injuries and return to the days of escape.

So, Moran said directly: "The master is still in the study, you can go see him at any time."

"Go now." When Sherlock said this, he finally stood up with difficulty, and then followed Moran out of the room.

There were paths that were not very spacious along the way. They were cramped compared to the churches in urban London. Every step along the path involved countless pains in the bones and internal organs, so Sherlock walked very slowly, for five full minutes. Minutes later, he came to a small door.

Moran knocked on the door and opened the door after hearing "Come in".

This is a small cabin that is not too spacious, with a bed and a table. In addition, there are books stacked as high as one person, and paper documents are stacked on the wall. They seem to have been passed by date or title. The letters are divided into categories, which looks a bit complicated, but is exceptionally regular.

In front of the long table, there was a slightly familiar figure, but this figure was not wearing the black attire of the former Holy Son, let alone the papal robe that symbolized the highest authority of the Holy See. It was just a set similar to Sherlock's. He was wearing a comfortable white shirt, and with his not-so-tall figure, he looked extremely ordinary.

The door was closed, leaving only the sound of rustling writing in the whole room.

I don’t know why, but the two people who haven’t seen each other for two years are not in a hurry to talk. They are silent in a tacit understanding, either busy with the work at hand, or curiously looking at the mountains of documents in the room, and it almost goes by like this. half an hour.

Finally, the rustling stopped. Moriarty picked up the papal seal on the table and pressed his own seal on a document. Then he rubbed his brows tiredly and turned around.

"haven't seen you for a long time."

"Yeah, long time no see."

It seemed so normal for the two people to meet again after more than two years, but what they had experienced with each other in the past two years was particularly clear in this glance. One side was covered in scars, and the other side was covered in scars. With their white hair, the two of them pursed their lips as they looked at each other, not knowing whether they were suppressing laughter at each other or recalling themselves with a wry smile.

"I remember hearing someone say that spring is eternal in Jerusalem and night never falls. Now it seems that it is not as magical as the legend says." Sherlock looked at the fine snow outside the window.

"It was indeed what you said a few years ago, so you know why I have had insomnia since I was a child." Moriarty smiled: "Fortunately, I became the Pope after all, so I dug up all the flowers. , those light mirrors used for believers’ prayers were also removed.

Maybe that's why I became pope. "

Sherlock looked at the documents piled up on the other party's desk and shrugged: "But you can also see that even if you dismantle all these, you still don't have time to sleep. So, do you want to tell me your true feelings? idea?"

"I announced last year that the Holy Light Temple was independent. You should have heard of it."

"Of course." Sherlock pulled out a chair and sat opposite Moriarty.

"The bargaining chip at that time was to have the Holy Light Temple join the expeditionary force and be responsible for the laying of the Holy Light. This would be very helpful for humans to march into the Gate of Hell."

Sherlock didn't even think about it: "Okay, it's just the two of us in this room, so we won't be secretive."

"." Moriarty was silent for a moment, and then he seemed to smile rarely in the past two years, although it was a bitter smile: "Haha, I'm sorry, I usually say this so much that I start to believe it."

He just said something in such an understatement that in the eyes of others, their jaws would drop:

"Perhaps you have noticed that fewer and fewer people come to Jerusalem to worship. Many senior officials in the Holy See are questioning a series of my actions, but I am not prepared to convince them.

I still say that faith and government must be one. "

Hearing this, Sherlock frowned. He knew that the little man in front of him was not an idiot, but he also questioned his thoughts:

"Well, I'm sorry, I have to interrupt you. I understand that you have always wanted to develop your Kingdom of God system and integrate faith into the minutiae of human society. Of course, I am too lazy to care about the future of mankind. How to go.

I just want to ask, since you want to combine politics and faith, why do you have to separate the Holy Light from the Holy See now? "

"Haha. I'm sorry." Moriarty smiled apologetically: "Maybe when I first started talking about this topic, I didn't explain a small detail clearly.

I said at the time that the pope and the emperor needed to be the same person, and that politics and faith should be perfectly integrated.

But I didn’t say that the faith I talked about was that bullshit Holy Light.”

"."

"."

Sherlock's eyes had never been so narrowed before. He stared at Moriarty with an expression that he didn't quite know how to put on, and even involuntarily wanted to get closer.

Let me tell you something, Sherlock has never been so confused about someone's thoughts in his life.

"Didn't you make your name clear? You're fucking apostate!"

Sherlock almost laughed out loud at the kid in front of him, "The Pope!" The Pope, who is respected by countless believers and who stands at the highest level of power in the Holy See, actually said the word "Bullshit Holy Light".

I really don’t know if Crimson would also look depressed when he heard this name.

But now Sherlock won't care about the Holy Light's thoughts. He is just surprised to find that the current Pope is actually an unbeliever!

"Haha!" Sherlock finally laughed: "So you don't believe in the Holy Light?"

"Yes, when did I say that I believe in the Holy Light?"

"But...but you are the Pope, and you were the Holy Son before. I...I know you once said that you hate sunflowers, but I thought you hated these flowers that always shine in the middle of the night, haha! You don't fucking believe in the Holy Light?!"

"Of course. Have you ever heard me praise the Holy Light? Even once."

"I thought you were being arrogant because you never praised me."

"Bullshit logic!"

"Huh!" Sherlock exhaled and leaned back in his chair, feeling that the wounds all over his body were much more comfortable: "What the hell, haha, the Pope is actually an infidel. If I were in journalism, I would He may be elected as the God of News.”

Moriarty looked at Sherlock's twisted expression of pain and joy, with a look of disgust on his face: "Okay, I'm taking you in now, not just to make you laugh weirdly here.

Do me a favor. "

"Oh, we haven't seen each other for more than two years. Now that we finally sit together, you want me to help you?" Sherlock spread out on the chair and said, "Let's talk about it."

"Recover your injuries, and I will arrange for you to use the Holy See's airship. You can cross the Redeker Strait with the next batch of Crusaders returning to the battlefield. I can guarantee that you will not be discovered by anyone before the airship lands.

But after that, you're on your own. "

"So what do you want me to do?" Sherlock's expression finally became more serious.

"I want you to go through the gates of hell again."

For the second time in his life, Moriarty showed a pleading look to Sherlock.