[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

When did you first notice those eyes?

In the underground casino, it was a young face, arrogant, vulgar, and ignorant of everything.

The firelight in his hand slowly pointed to the faces immersed in desire in the casino, saying

-

"Do they think they are playing cards? No, they are all my sacrifices."

His gray-blue eyes looked at her with a slight smile, the docile hair style, the young face, just like...

Like seen somewhere.

--Where is it?

The pure gray-blue color is obviously wearing colored contact lenses, and the eyes of normal people will not be so deep.

The second time I noticed those eyes was the day An He died.

She was sitting on the waiting chair at the door of An He's ward, and an old doctor who claimed to be An He's friend came up to her, chatted with her about An He's past, and told her not to forget Ai Ruixi.

His eyes were so close to her, his azure eyes, like the waves of the sea, obliterated her consciousness in layers of whistling.

—he was hypnotizing her.

Sherlock didn't tell her about it until later.

Psychological hypnosis requires the hypnotist to look at the hypnotized person, so this time, he must not be wearing contact lenses.

Therefore, the original color of his eyes was blue.

……

"I wondered why Uncle Camilla insisted that I live at 221b Baker Street. Then I realized that maybe it wasn't because of his first love, Mrs. Hudson, but because there was Sherlock Holmes in Baker Street."

Ludwig smiled:

"Let me be narcissistic and think that Uncle Camilla wants to protect me... After all, the Sherlock Holmes family is much more famous in terms of IQ than I thought at first."

Yatum imitated her and tilted her head:

"What else? It's impossible to infer anything from this alone."

"Of course you can't do this alone, but you've exposed too many flaws... The encounters and strike-ups from Romania to London Heathrow Airport were too deliberate. A person with an aristocratic identity would not flirtatiously strike up a stranger on the side of the road. woman."

Ludwig stared at him without blinking:

"You went out yourself to find something my father hid from me, and when you found out that my destination was Baker Street..."

She suddenly played with the corner of her mouth:

"...Your series of plans have started."

"Oh, I was discovered by you, what should I do?"

Atum flipped her long hair flirtatiously.

He looked at her, as if suddenly discovering that a broken bowl at home is actually a hard-to-find treasure:

"You're a little smarter than I thought...I'm a little bit reluctant to kill you now."

"This is your great mistake, Mr. Stuart, don't forget that creatures like like flock together."

Ludwig felt his lungs ache like they were on fire.

The two hits just now were a bit too much.

But she still smiled and said without showing any weakness:

"Monkeys are with monkeys, pigs are with pigs, worms are worms...so when I'm with Sherlock, you shouldn't see us as two species."

Atum let go of her and clapped his hands:

"how exciting."

"There's something exciting, but it's entirely my guess, just because your temperament is too similar... Hey, after your many names, isn't your real name James Moriarty?"

Does Sherlock Holmes Really Exist?

That depends on whether the plot is still there.

A brief pause.

Atum raised his eyes, but he couldn't see any emotion in his gray-blue eyes.

No shock, no familiarity with the name, no agreement, no denial.

He just turned around and removed a velvet-covered cross from Napoleon's collection - retrospectively, the cross was not original to Catholicism, it was originally an instrument of torture in ancient Egypt, ancient Rome and ancient Babylon.

Dim light reflected from the shroud of the metal chalice.

The secret room was gloomy, and only an old-fashioned oil lamp was lit by Atum's hand, which made the old brocade on the velvet satin shine.

The moment he tore off the dark blue velvet, Atum turned his head and smiled slightly:

"God has more than one face...who knew?"

Center Pompidou.

The brand-new Bugatti was randomly parked in the middle of the road without even closing the door, looking as if it had been tortured and dying.

Sherlock accurately estimated the direction of the chamber of secrets and pried open "Mortimer's Box" again.

The goal is obvious, very specific.

For an underground store like this, there are only two places that lead further underground.

One is the urinal and the other is the drain.

The previous Sherlock didn't think about it at all... After all, no matter how neurotic a professor is, it's impossible for his daughter to get into the sewer from the urinal.

Just as he skillfully turned the bayonet to open the sewer, the cell phone in his coat pocket vibrated suddenly.

Sherlock took out his phone.

On the screen, a line of small fluorescent characters was telling the last thing he wanted to happen at this moment.

—The personnel have arrived.

In addition, the Egyptian church rebelled internally and supported a new master. m h

……

In Napoleon's secret room, the two who were chatting leisurely were unaware of the sudden upheaval in the outside world.

No, there was probably only one person who didn't notice anything.

"What could shock me more than myself, Mr. Stuart?"

Ludwig raised his body slightly and approached him:

"If you want me to say, nothing in your life has been successful... You are just a loser, and this is the truth."

- irritates him.

"Loser? Your boyfriend won't be happy to hear that."

Atum stood in front of the two-person black cross, gently blowing the dust off the jewel:

"After all, losing in the hands of God is an honor, but losing in the hands of losers is ugly."

"I have never understood why a person can have such complex emotions for another person, sympathy, admiration, hatred, disgust..."

She raised the corner of her mouth slightly:

"But when I know you and Stuart are one person, I understand."

In this era, the nobility has declined, and the royal family has declined.

Who else would directly report the noble surname and ignore the first name when exchanging names?Who else would write classical English 'thou' instead of 'you' on a scrap of paper?

Those are unwilling people.

Not reconciled, that is, not owned.

……

"Only those who have no status care about their status. Those who are trampled on the bottom of their feet want to stand out the most, and the humbler they are, the more they desire to be worshiped by everyone... Then what are you who want to become a god?"

Ludwig smiled:

"An abandoned homeless man, an unrecognized high-intelligence monster...a poor child who is not loved by anyone?"

Poor boy.

Atum's expression turned cold.

"Poor boy? You can count the number of people in this world on one hand...the rest of you, including you, are just stupid goldfish."

He let go of the cross in his hand, walked up to Ludwig, looked down at her face and said softly:

"You are ruled, not desired... for approval? Would you go to a goldfish for approval?"

"People who were still in the tribal stage in ancient times were eager to join a certain relationship or belong to a certain group in order to increase the chance of survival... This is the root of human evolution."

Ludwig tilted his head:

"Everyone needs love, you can't get rid of this bad nature, Yatum, because no matter how smart you are, you have transformed from a monkey."

"monkey?"

Atum's hand ran down her arm, slipped across the silk blouse... and finally, pinched her wrist with precision.

"Honey, don't forget, your boyfriend is the same as me."

And Ludwig just smiled.

"You're jealous."

She stared at him and said slowly:

"You're jealous of him, Atum, you keep emphasizing that you're the same, but while you're brilliant and ignored, and learned and ignored, he's got everything in the world."

Ludwig stretched out a hand and stroked his face gently:

"In contrast, how pale you are... So Sherlock has become your obsession, and paralleled as a god? No, what you want is never paralleled. If you can't make him your subordinate, you have to work hard to destroy him. he."

No matter how much you love, you can't be side by side.

This relationship is like Emperor Napoleon and his Empress Josephine.

...Hey, why does it feel like something is wrong...

Yatum grabbed her collar violently:

"As long as I move my fingers, I can destroy a city. As long as I frown, people will tremble with fear... And Sherlock? All his glory is because he has a powerful brother, Mycroft special."

The tip of her nose was only an inch from the tip of his.

Breath is audible.

"Don't be naive, no one has something that he didn't earn, even if it looks like a gift from God."

Ludwig was pulled up from the coffin lid by him, and half of his body was suspended in the air:

"With all due respect, even if you have an elder brother, both of you will end up with a loss. Your excessive desire to express makes it impossible for you to coexist..."

- irritates him.

"Expressive desire?"

The smile on Atum's face finally disappeared completely.

"Isn't it desire to express?"

Ludwig struggled to hold Atum's hand, which was getting tighter and tighter, and smiled more happily:

"You think you're smart? But the story you made up is full of loopholes. Even if you kill me, you can only find a scapegoat to avoid confrontation with your church... What have you done?"

She was almost close to his face, with a hint of sarcasm in her eyes:

"You can't do anything."

——she wanted to irritate him, expose him, and make him suffer.

Don't you want to see her cry?

Well, you're in pain.

……

The Code of Hammurabi says blood for blood, tooth for tooth, pain for pain, life for life.

He caused her so much pain, he owed her a life... and for these, she would always pay blood for blood and get it back.

……

Atum stared at her for a long time.

It's just that in his gray-blue eyes, he can no longer find the cynical look he had before, as if a cat was playing tricks on a mouse.

"Your death statement is over."

He suddenly grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off the half-human coffin.

Ludwig fell to the ground, and before he could get up, he dragged him along by his long hair and threw him under the gem-studded cross.

"As long as I kill you, I kill Sherlock, but I didn't destroy him, but you...you killed him when you chose to die alone."

Ludwig got up from the dusty ground, only feeling that his cerebral cortex had been dissected once.

But she narrowed her eyes with a smile:

"Look, you're pissed off."

Her long hair was messily spread on the ground, her bare calf was covered with blood, and the tangle of branches on the front of her dress had been tossed out of shape.

"Kill?"

She raised her chin contemptuously:

"Don't you think Sherlock will die in love? It's ridiculous. He's not you. His vision is so narrow that he can only see one person."

"No, he will... Sherlock keeps his promise, since he has promised you 'always be with him', he will faithfully fulfill it."

Atum smiled, standing in front of Ludwig who was curled up in pain, condescending:

"I really sympathize with him... The woman he loves so much doesn't know how much he loves her."

Forever company?

When did Sherlock say something like this to her, why didn't she have the slightest impression?

Atum bent down with a smile on his face.

He holds a length of chain in his hand, as if intending to chain her to a cross.

An ancient ritual, the beginning of torture.

"Gameover...I won."

……Won?

Until the end, who knows who won?

Just as the last sound of "win" fell, Ludwig suddenly reached out and hugged his neck:

"The fourth thing I want to tell you is..."

She said softly:

"Behind you, there is a ghost."

……ghost?

Atum draws out the tone:

"Oh, have you lost your mind with fear?"

The slender dagger reflected a cold light at his fingertips, it was the brilliance of a cold weapon - Ludwig recognized this dagger, it was the one he scooped out the black eye and cut Sherlock's neck.

He squatted down with a slight smile, and picked Ludwig's chin with the tip of the knife:

"Don't be afraid, my girl, I will not inflict too cruel punishment on you, but cut your ankles and drain your blood, just like Rome did to their saints..."

His words stopped, his smile froze.

In the silent underground chamber, they all heard the voice of a third party who should not have appeared.

——That was the sound of the robe scraping across the ground, rustling the sand.

Atum slowly turned his head away.

And at the moment when he was distracted, a small female pistol was aimed at his forehead.