Sherlock Holmes

Darkness, noise, chaos, drunkenness, and a writhing white body not far away.

Among all these elements, any one taken out is enough to make anyone lose the ability to perceive the surrounding things, and when they are combined together, it is estimated that a shot fired by someone next to them may be ignored.

Not to mention the crack that appeared quietly, less than a centimeter wide, and a sharp thorn that suddenly shot out.

However, at this moment, Sherlock's confused eyes did not change, and his expression did not change at all, but he naturally turned his head to the side.

At the same time, there was only a "pop!" sound, and a wine glass fell firmly on top of the sudden spikes and broke into pieces. The spikes immediately retracted into the cracks and disappeared without a trace. No trace left.

Sherlock turned his head in slight surprise, looked at Watson, and found that the other person was looking at him with the same eyes.

The doctor was probably surprised at how the guy in front of him could instantly sense the danger from behind in such an environment and avoid it so lightly.

And Sherlock was also surprised. How could a guy like Watson, who always had his eyes narrowed, hit a silently appearing spike so accurately in such dim light?

Anyway, the two of them looked at each other for a moment, both amazed at each other's acumen and skills, and didn't even pay attention to the assassination that had occurred for unknown reasons.

Of course, it is impossible to ignore it completely. The cracks in the void have appeared, proving that the assassin is a contractor, so you must respect it no matter what.

Sherlock raised his head and drank the rest of the wine, while Watson took out a few pounds and put them on the table with tacit understanding.

Keep the change, please.

After saying that, he and Sherlock got up, squeezed through the dense crowd, and walked out the door.

"Do you have an enemy?" Watson asked as they walked.

"There are some, but as far as I know, they are either dead, or they dare not provoke me." Sherlock couldn't help but start to think, why did he suddenly become the assassination target of a contractor?

And the next second, he seemed to have found the answer. Because in so many years, he had not provoked so many contractors, and he could think of it after just a little investigation.

Badr, a deacon of the Judgment Department who died in his own hands not long ago.

This matter is most likely related to him;

But that does not mean that the case will stain the majesty of the Holy See, so the fewer people know about it, the better. As a clergyman of the Holy See, Deacon Bader must have his own cronies or relatives, and among them It is understandable that there are one or two radicals who want to avenge their master no matter what. In addition, in their eyes, Sherlock is just a civilian detective without any background. Kill him. It's completely normal to vent your anger.

Just thought of this!

Suddenly, the space in front of him was torn open again, and a sharp thorn stabbed out, heading straight for his forehead, but Sherlock swayed and avoided it again.

"A manipulative contractor, not very strong in frontal combat, but very stealthy and good at assassination." Watson muttered softly.

"It's right in the crowd. The control distance is probably about 10 meters." Sherlock also added casually, then turned around and walked towards where the crowd was denser.

Watson followed beside him, hesitated for a while, and finally couldn't help but asked: "Maybe I shouldn't bother you at this time, but the door is over there, why are we walking in a circle?"

"I'm looking for someone." Sherlock said, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd and the chaotic light and shadow. Each scene was like a cut data source, automatically analyzed and organized in his brain.

[5 meters away, male, about 45 years old, drank 7 glasses of wine, not him]

[Passing by, female, under 18 years old, experienced in love, likes money, not her]

[At the wine table 3 meters away, a woman, about 70 years old, widowed, looking for a younger body, is not her]

Everyone who came into sight seemed to have their own information automatically marked on their heads, and Sherlock's walking route among the crowd was also extremely subtle, using the changes in light and darkness and the blocking of sideline facilities. He can determine whether he is within the assassin's field of vision, and sometimes even sell a few loopholes to attract the opponent to take action, so as to use reverse reasoning to determine the opponent's location.

Finally, when he escaped another sudden assassination, his eyes happened to catch a man in the crowd!

This man was wearing a very ordinary coat with a standing collar. He was about 35 years old and his mouth was a little crooked. He was sitting alone at the wine table and sipping wine. His aura, image, and even his drinking movements were integrated with the surrounding atmosphere. .

No one would notice such a passerby.

However, Sherlock clearly remembered that about two minutes ago, this man was sitting at a table next door, chatting and laughing with a drunk lady.

"Found it." Sherlock said.

Watson was stunned, could he really find it? However, he didn't ask any more questions and followed Sherlock's gaze.

At this moment, the middle-aged man who was drinking just raised his head, looked across the gap in the chaotic crowd, and intersected with the eyes looking at him for a moment.

It was in this moment that both parties confirmed the meaning contained in their eyes.

The next second! The man didn't say anything, just got up and ran away.

And just before that, Sherlock had already taken the lead and rushed straight into the crowd!

He rushed so decisively, completely ignoring the feelings of the people around him, and directly knocked away several drunken men and women in front of him, overturning countless wine glasses. In such a dense place, his speed was able to His windbreaker lifted up.

Watching this scene, Watson was stunned on the spot.

He seemed to be shocked for a moment, and then suddenly came to his senses.

"Haha~ interesting."

He chuckled lightly, and his smile contained some kind of weird excitement and expectation. The next moment, he suddenly took off with an extremely stretched body. In the restless light, it turned into a residual image, heading forward. Chase.

In the night, the heavy iron door made a "ding!" sound! Being knocked away again, the noise disappeared in an instant, replaced by howling wind and humid air.

On the long silent street, only a few struggling street lights were flashing, and the old steam pipes made strange hissing sounds from time to time. The moonlight could not penetrate the haze over London, and everything looked like it had been settling for countless years. A dark painting in general.

There is no one there, that person has long since disappeared.

Soon, Watson also opened the door and walked out. He looked around and found no trace.

In fact, the difference between the time the person was discovered and the time he chased him out may only be a few seconds. In such a short period of time, the person disappeared without a trace. This ability to conceal his whereabouts , which really surprised Watson:

"I actually lost track of him. He seems to be a powerful guy."

Before he finished speaking, he saw Sherlock next to him looking at him with a very strange look.

"What's the matter?" Watson asked.

Sherlock lighted a cigarette calmly: "We just met. You may not know me. In my career, it is impossible to get lost."

With that said, he walked towards an alley across the long street.