Sherlock Holmes

Quiet

The scene just now was actually extremely short. From the moment Deacon Bader rose up in the smoke until the gunfire burst out and suppressed him in place in the rainy night, it only took half a minute to go back and forth.

Not even as long as it took to cut the skull with a handsaw after that.

Therefore, the sound of the sharp blade rubbing against the bones is particularly harsh, and the sound of fingers crushing the brain can send chills down one's spine.

Catherine on the bell tower was far away, and she did not hear the harsh and sticky stirring sound, but it was precisely because of her distance and high position that she could clearly see everything that happened on the ground before;

At the same time, it also made her the most shocking one among the crowd.

At that time, in the long street in the distance, there was a particularly strange figure, and his behavior was like a prophet. An ordinary firearm that had not been modified, and a few bullets of the lowest quality, actually suppressed a deacon of the Judgment Department. Living?

Although it was at its weakest.

But at the same time, it is also when it is at its strongest!

And why didn't that uneducated guy show any fear during this whole process! On the contrary, everything is so indifferent, silent, sparse and ordinary, flowing smoothly and in one go!

Is it ignorance?

Or was his state of mind strong enough to ignore the near-death counterattack of a second-level contractor.

Catherine didn't know. She just stared blankly at the thin body below, as if welcoming the curtain call in the spotlight, and uncontrollably recalled the smiling but extremely hateful face they met outside the elevator for the first time. Face.

Suddenly, her body stiffened suddenly, and then she suddenly remembered that the other person was just a mortal, a commoner in the lower city, and a private detective.

At this moment, Sherlock didn't know how much shock he had brought to the high-ranking Judge Sister on the bell tower.

He just looked at the fragmented body on the ground that was absolutely impossible to stand up in any way, and then stretched out with satisfaction.

He turned around and looked at the old priest behind him:

"Are you okay?" he asked

In fact, he has some affection for this old man who doesn't talk much, because when the other person is not dozing off, he always seems to respond to him with a very friendly smile, which even contains a trace of encouragement and appreciation. This kind of smile is rarely seen when superiors face civilians.

In the rain curtain, the old priest seemed to have come back to his senses. He tried hard to suppress the shock in his heart, and then nodded with a weak smile, indicating that he was fine.

After that, his thin lips wriggled slightly, as if he wanted to say something.

But Sherlock didn't hear it, because the next second, he was surrounded by a group of Skitarii soldiers rushing over from nearby.

At this moment, the safety of the high priest is naturally more important than anything else.

The curtain of rain remained, and after a few more minutes, everyone finally recovered from the scene; some medical staff who were waiting outside the battlefield finally dared to step under the searchlights.

They began to quickly search for the wounded who might still be alive, and began to treat and treat the wounds of the soldiers who were almost steamed by the armor in a very cruel and indifferent to pain, but extremely fast and effective way; Zeppelin airship Several ropes hung from the top. Dozens of people who were not equipped with steam armor but were all wearing the uniforms of the Holy See Guards slipped down and began to silently and quickly clean up the battlefield, recovering corpses and equipment.

The clean-up work after the war began in an orderly manner; Deacon Bader's body was swept into a pile from the pool of blood, and together with his void creature, was loaded into a huge iron box, along the rope After catching the airship, the wailing around the medical soldiers gradually became the main theme. Catherine's vines and the huge spider had quietly retreated into the void crack, and everything was gradually returning to control.

During this process, almost all the survivors would unconsciously look in the direction of Sherlock.

The meanings contained in these glances are very complex, including gratitude, shock, confusion, and even some faint fear, so that they only dare to glance sideways from a distance. The moment they meet the eyes of the detective, they quickly look again. elsewhere.

Ten minutes later, the old priest was finally helped into a wheelchair after several medical soldiers repeatedly confirmed that he was fine. He waved away the guards who were trying to hold umbrellas to protect him from the rain, and drove the wheelchair. After chasing the blood on the ground, he came to Sherlock's side.

He smiled, not hiding the sadness and gratitude of an old man in his smile.

"When I was at Scotland Yard, I asked about some things about you. At that time, I just thought that you were an outstanding young man, and you would even be outstanding beyond my imagination. But I didn't expect that you were beyond imagination. so much."

Sherlock had been standing in the rain, his hair was soaked and hanging on his face. He picked up a rope from somewhere and tied the messy hair back casually. Facing the old high priest, he skillfully put on a false smile, just like the workers in the lower city who met their boss.

"No, I just helped with a little help."

"You don't need to act like this!" Suddenly, a voice came from beside him.

Sherlock looked sideways and saw Catherine walking over weakly. There were some dark lines under his skin. It should be that the blood vessels in his body were undergoing some kind of backlash spasm. There was also blood left in his mouth. However, she didn't care at all, and was not even willing to let her entourage hold umbrellas to protect her from the rain:

"You have done a good job, and the Holy See will give you the rewards you deserve, so your modesty will only annoy people."

Sherlock shrugged, feeling that the Judge Sister really didn't like him very much.

"How did you do it?" Catherine asked again.

"How did you do that?"

"Don't act stupid! You just killed a deacon of the Judgment Department!" Her tone was a little serious.

"Oh, that's right. I have a gun." Sherlock made a biu gesture with his hand: "It happened that Lord Badr was very fragile at that time and could be killed with a gun."

What he said was somewhere between explanation and fart. Catherine was very unhappy when she heard it. She was about to question it, but suddenly, she felt a strong and natural feeling between the lines.

Yes, the whole process was like this. What she witnessed with her own eyes was just a gun, killing someone who could be killed with a gun.

This strange but true sense of narrative made her hesitate for a moment.

"Have you killed many people?"

"I have killed some." Sherlock fiddled with a puddle of water with his shoes and replied absently, but he immediately raised his head and added: "It's all within the scope of the law."

Catherine narrowed her eyes suspiciously.