I founded Tantric Buddhism in London

Saturday night.

Hua Yue, dressed in her best clothes, finally struggled out of the captivity of the dirty black cloud villain. She pushed away the thick black clouds and danced in the empty night sky, waving the bright silver light.

The silver moonlight fell on the remote St. Archbishop's Hospital. This long-abandoned hospital quickly spread among the poor by word of mouth with the sign of free clinics. Its speed was comparable to the flu virus.

The number of patients who came for consultation every Saturday increased and did not decrease. Winfreys Morgan was busy sweating. If it were not for the strong vitality of Xinxiang, he would have died suddenly on his desk.

At this moment, St. Archbishop's Hospital has become more and more lively and larger. Some small newspapers are struggling to find articles. After learning about this, they immediately sent their cheap laborers who claimed to be the uncrowned kings to this church hospital that had been abandoned for a long time for some reason.

They claimed to be newspaper reporters, trying to bypass the orderly queue and directly meet the free doctor at the end. However, this behavior of disrupting the order of the scene only aroused the anger of the lower-class people who came to the scene to queue up in accordance with the rules. They shouted complaints and cursed, attracting the attention of patrol volunteers.

So these self-righteous uncrowned kings were all expelled from the venue by the sturdy volunteers holding oil lamps... Winfreys Morgan was unaware of these trivial matters, and his followers would not bother the leader because of these mundane matters. He was still busy seeing patients.

And John H. Watson, he was sitting in the mysterious molting club at this moment, sitting opposite Stanford Leland Jr.

The timing of their arrival was not very good. The first dance performance had ended, and the second performance was still being prepared. At this moment, the quiet hall was filled with the classical music of the accompaniment band. The tunes were melodious and fresh. The listeners felt as if they were in the vast prairie. The breeze with the smell of grass gently caressed their faces. It seemed that they could still hear the humming of cattle in their ears, which made people unconsciously let down their guard and reveal their true temperament.

Watson seemed to be just like that. He seemed to be chatting with Stanford Jr. on the surface, but his too frequent drinking actions still exposed his true thoughts.

It should be noted that what was placed on their table was not low-alcohol beer like a drink, but high-alcohol single malt whiskey!

Stanford Jr. looked at Watson who was drinking tons of whiskey, without even adding ice cubes, and just drank it straight, as if he was relieving his inner grief with heavy drinking.

This was the first time he had seen his friend, whom he admired, look so depressed and lonely, but it made him feel something real... It turned out that Watson was not an iron warrior, his heart was made of flesh, and he would also feel sad because of setbacks.

He wanted to dissuade him from drinking, but after this period of contact in the hospital, he already knew that Watson was extremely self-reliant. If he used inappropriate dissuasion, it would only make the other party's inner desire to fight even stronger.

And what is the best way for men to communicate with each other... It is alcohol, only alcohol! Getting drunk can solve all the worries in the world!

Little Stanford Leland raised his glass and advised:

"Come on! Watson, let's drink this glass and forget about Charlotte! She really didn't know the pearls. She dismissed our brave and combative Berkshire Brigade Goshawk just because of a mere disability that made it unsuitable to continue tracking criminals. This is definitely the most wrong decision she has ever made in her life!"

Watson just raised his glass silently, then raised his neck and drank it. It seems that he is still worried about being dismissed.

Little Stanford has been studying Watson's "Shock! Another riot case comparable to the explosion of the Capitol was strangled in the cradle!" during this period. He thought he had touched the surface of deductive reasoning. He was paying attention to Watson's expression at this moment, thinking that his good friend had never let go.

It seems that just because of his inconvenience in legs and feet, the young man whose ability and experience were far inferior to his easily took away the assistant position of the female detective... This incident was a great blow to him.

Watson felt the burning sensation of tequila flowing through his throat, and felt as if his esophagus was licked by flames... But this body, born in the slums of the 19th century, this tongue that has never been destroyed by technology and hard work, tasted the slightly sweet and refreshing fragrance like nectar from the highly alcoholic liquid that stimulated like flames.

The cup phase gained satisfaction from the mouth and tongue desires, and the secret scriptures of the cup in the soul body were deciphered again. The full secret scriptures flowed with sweet juice, giving back the power and desire of the cup... But all of this was plundered by the greedy moth in the skull.

The crazy moth phase vibrated its scales and wings, digesting the cup phase juice just inhaled into its stomach and transforming it into the unique power of the moth principle.

The mana leaked by the moth phase was like a speck of scale powder, falling into the mortal body between the flapping wings, and the stomach and intestines were moving like a tumbling sea, but it was not a nausea and cramp, but a kind of cheering excitement.

This is not the first time that the forbidden power deciphered by the secret of the Cup has been intercepted by the Moth in the Skull. The Moth is extremely domineering when facing the Cup, and it seems that it will not allow the body it is hosting to be tainted by even a trace of the Cup's breath.

Whenever the cup phase tries to give back to enhance the sensitivity of the five senses and the power of gastrointestinal digestion, the moth phase will violently flap its wings inside Watson's skull, swallowing the power of the cup phase and transforming it into a secret power of transformation, making this earthly body Subtly transforming into something more ancient, the appearance of a creature that existed in the world long before the birth of human beings.

Watson only felt that his sense of smell had become sensitive again, and he seemed to be able to smell the specific ingredients of the wine in the middle glass.

He felt that even if there was a piece of fresh and hot meat from his compatriots on the table in front of him, he could easily swallow it into his belly and absorb and digest every nutrient in it without wasting it, and he did not need to worry about getting sick from it. A curse-like disease caused by the coronavirus.

He knew that he might still maintain a human skin, but the structure inside was gradually transforming in an inhuman direction.

But Watson's face remained calm. He just pretended to be lonely and drank up the strong wine in the glass frequently, as if he wanted to use alcohol to numb the sadness in his heart.

The young Stanford on the opposite side is still advising him in a vague way, but he is still unable to reveal the real situation to him - Miss Charlotte Holmes' dismissal of him was actually just a temporary measure to distinguish the boundaries in the eyes of outsiders. This prevents the Winfres gang from being put off by the appearance of his detective assistant.

In order to deceive Winfrey, Watson and Holmes must also deceive the people around them, whether it is the loyal old coachman Victor, their close friend Stanford, or the new anti-suppression agent named X211 The bureau support staff...all they knew was that a heated argument had broken out between Watson and Holmes.

From the perspective of X211, this is just a difference between two people with different paths and incompatible intentions - Miss Charlotte Holmes, who vows to be incompatible with Sichen's followers, and Miss Charlotte Holmes, who places her hope of curing the leg disease in invisible techniques. John H. Watson...the two have very different pursuits and directions. They will only drift apart, and may even evolve into enemies in the future. Of course, he didn't know that this was just a ploy between the female detective and his assistant, and he didn't even know that he had unknowingly discovered the real differences between the detective and his assistant.

From Old Victor's point of view, the young lady has always been unwilling to believe Mr. Watson... He has witnessed with his own eyes the young lady's growth from an innocent girl to the almost cold-blooded and suspicious person she is now. He didn't know whether he should be happy about this? After all, the temperament and character of the young lady now are more and more similar to those of the old man when he was young. But in his heart, he felt that he should feel sad about this. The young lady had obviously lived a carefree life, why was she now reduced to a situation where she was unwilling to trust anyone? Even Mr. Watson, who once risked his life to save his life, has been abandoned by the lady... I wonder when he will suffer such a fate?

But in the view of young Stanford, the main fault party in this dispute must be Charlotte Holmes! She sure is a fucking freak! He actually kicked Watson out of the house because of a young and strong man who had saved his life! What an ungrateful fellow! ! !

When little Stanford Leland thought of this, he felt even more aggrieved for his good friend. He drank a glass of whiskey. When he was about to add more wine, he saw that Watson was already holding the bottle in his hand and drinking heavily. .

"Okay!" Little Stanford, who was drunk from alcohol, was already in a daze and lost his mind. He only felt that Watson's drinking posture was really enjoyable! How could I let Watson drink alone?

"Waiter! Bring me another whiskey! No ice bucket, just whiskey!!!"

After several exchanges of cups and cups, little Stanford was already drunk. He put his arm around Watson's shoulders and left the club. He staggered along the way, but he was still thinking about his friend's future in his heart. He couldn't speak clearly. He said: "Wo... Wosheng, don't worry, I will find another way out for you tomorrow!"

"I hiccup... I don't believe it. Is Charlotte Holmes the only detective in London? Are the other private detectives really so useless?!"

"I heard about a Wakefield police inspector who was once the most powerful detective in Scotland Yard. He has recently resigned and plans to become a private detective. I will contact him tomorrow!!!"

"I believe... with Watson's ability, he will definitely be able to carve out a world in London! But... then, we will let Charlotte take a good look at what kind of brave person she has missed. General!"

Watson's eyes were also blurry. He shook his head and shouted: "Okay! Okay... good brother! I will definitely not betray your trust!!!"

When little Stanford got on the Leland family's carriage, he turned around like a stumbling drunkard, walking around with a cane without knowing the direction, but he slowly walked to the back alley of the Undressing Club.

In this street soaked in gentle moonlight, a slim and graceful figure has been waiting for a long time.

She is a bit petite, but the loose dark woolen coat cannot conceal her graceful figure. The blond hair on her head that slopes like a waterfall under the little black hat with round brim seems to be as bright as the silver moon, and the white silk gloves set it off even more. She is dignified and elegant.

When she saw the drunk man who seemed to be confused and didn't know the road and wandered into this place, she burst out with a very friendly and gentle smile, with shallow dimples on her plump cheeks, and emerald-green eyes flashing in her clear eyes. Faint light.

She lowered her hands and folded them in front of her belly, as if she had been waiting here for a long time.

"Mr. Watson, good evening." Mary Morstan said with a slight bow.

Watson also immediately regained clarity in his eyes. The seemingly fierce whiskey attack just now was like water to him who was gradually transformed due to the moth. The alcohol had already evaporated in the pores on his body, so he now smelled of alcohol. the taste of.

"Good evening, Miss Mary." Watson said as he gradually approached, and he and Mary Morstan walked side by side through the back door of the Slaughter Club, which was supposed to be closed.

The backstage of the club was much noisier than the front hall, with dozens of dancers walking back and forth. The club manager was already waiting at the entrance. He welcomed: "Mr. John, I have been waiting for you for a long time."

He led Watson up the once guarded steps, all the way up to the top floor, and opened the heavy and simple door. Here was an exotic boudoir, full of Indian-style decorations, with stained glass windows hollowed out into a honeycomb pattern. The moonlight poured in from the outside, and the entire boudoir was enveloped in a blur of light.

Deep in the boudoir is a hanging bright red curtain, and a dark shadow that does not look like a human being stands in it, with a cigarette with a unique imported clove smell burning at his fingertips.

Watson's moth vision, which was running all the time, suddenly went out. The moth in his skull seemed to have witnessed something extremely terrifying. It converged its scales and curled up deep in the soul, making it impossible for him to use his strange vision to see the true face of the person behind the scenes. .

Club manager Agdistis said humbly: "Miss Sulochana, as per your instructions, I have brought John H. Watson."

"Um."

A slightly hoarse but magnetic voice came from behind the bright red curtain, and a Tianzhu woman with beautiful features walked out from behind the curtain, with a bright red auspicious color between her eyebrows.

But Watson always feels like there's something wrong with the other party? It wasn't until a minute later that he realized that the owner of the shedding club had unblinking eyes!

Mary Morstan bent her knees and said respectfully to the female owner of the stripping club:

"Tutor, this is Mr. Watson I mentioned to you."