Sherlock Holmes

Catherine knew that Sherlock was an extremely smart man, but she still looked at him with a look that said, "Are you sick in your head?" Even at that moment, I had the urge to conduct a human test again.

Does he know what he's talking about?

Can a person move thousands of kilometers instantly?

Or is it a contracted demon controlling him from such a long distance?

No one in their right mind would have such an idea.

In fact, under normal circumstances, Sherlock would not first consider such a crazy explanation. He is a detective, and no matter how powerful his divergent thinking is, it must be based on facts.

But for him at this moment, these two explanations are really based on facts.

He himself is the basis.

Just a few hours ago, he had moved a sofa from London, and at this moment, he could control dozens of demons to appear anywhere in London.

If the murderer had the same ability as himself, then he could definitely do this.

Of course, Sherlock didn't think that the frontline officer named Baskerville really had the same abilities as himself. After all, there was only one sun in hell.

But it cannot be ruled out that he had other methods. He must have used some method that could make him amazed to do such an incredible thing!

Only in this way can I not waste so much effort to come here in vain.

So, Sherlock began to pace in the room, and gradually entered a state of thinking.

In this state, he has almost eliminated the influence of all other external factors. Countless information is swirling in his mind. After possessing that unexplainable ability, his efficiency in collecting evidence for the case has reached an amazing level. Unbelievable level of exaggeration.

He had just obtained Baskerville's name, as well as his brief identity.

Then he can search for some information about Baskerville in his mind. Although it is very vague, it is still extremely useful.

For example, he has now learned that the chief of staff named Baskerville has no relatives and never applies for leave. In other words, he rarely leaves the Hell's Gate front line in Antarctica.

And just 93 days ago, the First Covenant Chapter of the Crusaders conducted a 40-hour offensive battle at a precise location on the Antarctic continent, and 90% of the commanders of this battle The above odds were personally directed by Baskerville.

Moreover, this probability is constantly rising with the integration of various information, and soon reached 97%.

In short, it is basically certain that this guy was definitely on the front line when the old dean died, instead of finding someone to pretend to be someone else, and then secretly finding a ship to cross the Redeker Strait and sneaking into the Academy of Life Sciences. Control your own contracted demon to kill the old dean, and then secretly return to the battlefield.

Oh, by the way, this terrifying information gathering ability is called the [Thing Hall of Thought] by Sherlock.

In fact, he was originally going to call it [Clue Vault], but afterwards he felt that this ability was so useful that he should give it a more stylish name.

In short, Sherlock was pacing, wandering, and thinking, and time was torn into pieces in a crazy storm of thoughts, until he suddenly felt dizzy, and then he suddenly recovered.

Looking around, I found that Catherine had sat in a corner of the laboratory, eyes closed, slightly asleep.

For more than three months, it seemed that she was the only one in the world who desperately believed that her father was murdered, so it was hard to imagine how much pressure she was under. Her extremely tired and thin body actually made this The woman showed a hint of pity.

Of course, no one would think that a Sister of Judgment is a pitiful person. Even though she is no longer a clergyman, her strength as a second-level powerhouse is still there. When Sherlock stared at her like this, she immediately instinctively noticed that he Being stared at by a pair of eyes, she slowly opened her eyes, and then the domineering woman came back.

"What time is it?" Sherlock asked.

"Six o'clock, you've been wandering there for almost four hours."

"Sorry, I tend to lose track of time very easily when thinking about things." There was actually not much apology in Sherlock's tone. Feeling that his head was still a little dizzy, he smiled and said: "I get hungry easily. There was a man there a few days ago. The guy seems to be saying that the consumption of the brain is several times that of other organs."

Catherine stood up: "Let's go, I'll take you to have something to eat."

The School of Life Sciences presents two completely different states at night and during the day.

It is extremely quiet during the day, with almost no pedestrians on the streets. But at night, all the long streets come to life as if they suddenly woke up from a dream.

Those who have worked in the laboratory for seven or eight hours seem to have endless energy. They are not like the manual workers at the dock who will lie on the bed with all their fatigue as soon as they get off work, so tired that they cannot move.

They have too many wild ideas in their minds, and they seem to want someone to talk to them all the time.

Anyway, anyone who has never been to the Academy of Life Sciences will find it hard to believe that in this scientific holy land known as the entire empire, the busiest business is the bar.

Various bars!

70% of scientific researchers believe that when they are drunk, they are the most active in thinking and the most free-spirited in speech. Therefore, if you walk into any bar, you will see a few middle-aged people who have not had time to take off their lab coats. Young people gather at a table to discuss different scientific research topics. If the people at the other table have different ideas from theirs, they will most likely come over to join the discussion. By the end of the discussion, most of them will turn into scolding each other. Until a big fight.

Fights happen almost every day in the bars here.

Maybe in other cities, before two people fight, they will consider many external factors, such as the other party's financial strength, social status, whether there is anyone behind them, whether they need to pay compensation if the fight is broken, etc. Anyway, after a lot of cross-examination, Most fights cannot be fought.

But the School of Life Sciences is different. If two people have different ideas, then no one can convince the other. Some laboratory research directions are even fundamentally hostile to each other, so they will quarrel when they meet, and if they can't win, they will You don't have to worry about the person behind the other party when you hit him, because the old professors from the two laboratories will hit him harder when they meet, and you don't have to worry about compensation. The staff here enjoy full medical services, and they don't have to spend a single coin. , and for a group of skinny guys who spend all day in the laboratory, no matter how hard they fight, they will end up with a bruised nose and a swollen face at most, as long as they don’t delay work the next day.

Under the darkness, the noise from the stores on both sides could be faintly heard on the street.

Sherlock followed Catherine through the long street that was not too cold, and passed the street lights that were not too bright. The light from the bar not far away came through the window, and the shadows of the two people were constantly changing.

Such a night can be called prosperous in this era.

After walking for a while, the noise gradually faded away, and the two came to a relatively quiet bar.

Push the door and enter

Sherlock couldn't help but be slightly surprised, because only looking at the inconspicuous small wooden door outside, he never imagined that there was such a large space inside.

An all-glass framed chandelier hangs overhead, and some very atmospheric paintings are hung on the original-color walls. In the middle of the venue is a huge light golden bar, with a dazzling array of wine glasses placed in a very particular way. The ground is the solidest wooden floor. There are some marbles of similar colors interspersed subtly. Well-dressed waiters carry plates and silently go between the tables. On a high platform not far away, a lady in gorgeous clothes is playing the piano. Soothing, with a nice scent of incense in the air.

The most important thing is that the temperature here is very comfortable. It seems that the boss here made a built-in steam pipe underground to wrap the entire building to achieve temperature control.

Such an expense is not a small amount, but the owner of this bar just chose a location on the edge of the block and made an unobtrusive small door. This resulted in a lot of people in this bar. few.

The two found a seat slightly on the edge. Sherlock picked up the menu on the table and took a look.

this moment!

Even though he was able to maintain absolute concentration when facing the third-order demon, he actually felt a little nervous.

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at Catherine and asked a little cautiously:

"you please?"

Catherine looked at Sherlock's expression, and her cold face showed a hint of surprise at first, and then she laughed like ice and snow:

"Haha, I really don't know how many times you have to shock me before you give up. Are you worried about money?"

"Of course, haven't you looked at the prices here?" Sherlock pointed to the menu in his hand, his shock still lingering.

Catherine seemed to like seeing Sherlock's slightly embarrassed expression. She pursed her lips and said, "But... with your ability, you should be able to make a lot of money easily, right?"

"Actually, it's not that easy." Sherlock said, "Cases don't happen every day, and under normal circumstances, civilians don't pay too much commission fees."

Catherine nodded. She suddenly found that her mood seemed to have improved a little, but she didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he discovered that the man in front of him was not omnipotent, he also had weaknesses, and he would also show a troubled expression.

The soft lights fell along with the music, and Catherine took small bites of the food in front of her.

Some guests nearby looked over here from time to time.

News of the dean's death has been suppressed and has not leaked out, but many people within the School of Life Sciences have already known about it, so as the dean's daughter, she will naturally receive attention, but the meaning of this attention is too complicated. .

No one came up to say hello, and no one dared to make eye contact with Catherine. They just watched from a distance and calmly. Occasionally, some extremely low voices would be heard. Those people felt that Catherine would not be able to hear her. But who knows, a second-level contractor's senses are much sharper than those of a normal person. She can hear clearly, but she just doesn't want to pay attention to it.

So, she ate very quietly, carefully digesting every bite of food she took.

At this moment, a waiter walked over slowly, dragging a bottle of wine with a clean towel, and said with great respect:

"Miss, would you like a glass of wine?"

In some high-end restaurants, waiters often ask guests such questions, so Catherine did not feel that the other party was rude. She happened to be in a good mood at the moment, so she nodded, and then looked at Sherlock across the table: "This Sir, you need a drink too."

"Yes, beautiful lady."

The waiter carefully poured the wine into the goblets on the table for the two of them. The bright red liquid looked so alluring in the light above them.

"This wine is definitely not cheap." Sherlock took a sip and smacked his lips. In fact, he knew a little bit about red wine, but he had never drank it before and couldn't taste it at all.

Catherine also took a gentle sip, and the bright red juice lingered between her lips and teeth, exuding a faint sweet taste.

Suddenly, she was startled for a moment, looking at the wine glass in front of her in disbelief, then turned her head, and looked even more in disbelief at the attendant who had not left beside her.

"This wine...?"

The attendant bowed slightly and said with a smile:

"It's the wine stored by Miss Irene Adler. She said you seem to be in a good mood today and it should match this bottle of wine very well."

As he spoke, the attendant turned slightly sideways and motioned to a table not far away.

Catherine looked over.

Sherlock naturally followed and looked over.

I saw a woman who looked to be about 30 years old sitting next to the table. She was wearing a red dress and a black hat with a huge round hood. Her long reddish-brown hair was curled down, with one side of her hair hanging down. Her eyes were covered in shadows. In fact, she was dressed very simply. There were not many embellishments on her dress, but she inexplicably exuded a certain age-like grace and magnificence. She was holding a thin black pole in her hand. Long smoke, now, the lingering smoke has just dissipated, as if she had just stepped out of the hazy middle.

Seeing Catherine and Sherlock looking towards her, she smiled and said hello.

Catherine smiled too and nodded her thanks.

"Is there anything special about this glass of wine? You seem to be surprised." Sherlock asked.

Catherine spoke slowly:

"You may not understand if you tell me too much, but the cup you have in front of you now can buy the house in half the street where you live in London."

Sherlock stiffened.

He looked at the glass of red wine in front of him in disbelief, then raised his head and looked at the woman not far away, and found that at this moment, the other woman was also looking at him, and their eyes touched lightly under the soft light.

Sherlock rarely put on a gentlemanly expression.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Irene Adler."