[Comprehensive British and American] Those years when I opened a dessert shop on Baker Street

Sherlock saw Fuster hold up a huge leaf as a cover, trying to pretend to be a piranha. When Wensty and Sherlock went to that place again, they only saw a row of piranhas with their mouths open. Not a trace of Foster.

Sherlock glanced at the row of piranhas, wondering: "Are they really grown by eating human flesh?"

Every plant in Adams Manor cannot be regarded as a simple plant. The piranhas can also understand human language. The piranhas opened their mouths wide and showed sharp teeth, which is enough to show that they are genuine. piranha.

"Of course, they can only grow so brightly and beautifully by eating human flesh." Winsty shouted loudly.

The piranhas shook the leaves in satisfaction.

Winsty stood on tiptoe, and Sherlock bent down, listening to her whisper in his ear: "No, they eat mushrooms."

The piranhas have been living in a lie for so many years. They thought that what they chewed every day was human flesh, but in fact they were just ordinary mushrooms. Anyway, they had never eaten real human flesh, and they did not notice the difference.

After Wensty finished speaking, she pressed her fingers to her lips and let out a "shh" sound.

Sherlock laughed softly, and caressed her hair unconsciously.

Wensty froze for a moment, glanced at Sherlock, then lowered her head again, the tips of her ears turned slightly red again.

"Are you hot again?" Sherlock asked.

"Ah? Yes! It's summer, it's so hot here!"

With her hands behind her back, Winsty walked around the room, but she didn't find Foster, he wasn't here.

Where did he go?

Sherlock's eyes turned to the right: "He's out."

On the far right side of the room is a small door, which should have been closed tightly, but now there is a small gap, which cannot be seen without careful attention.

"He went out with Debbie." Sherlock saw the footprints of high-heeled shoes in the shape of wine bottle caps on the plush floor booth, which matched the pair of high-heeled shoes Debbie was wearing tonight. The curves of fair thighs are exposed, and the high heels on the ankles are like wine bottles in the hands of a skilled bartender.

Judging from the density of footprints, they left in a hurry.

Wensty and Sherlock followed out, and Wensty's worry just now had dissipated in her heart, and it was all because she was too gullible: Debbie still refused to let Fuster go, how could she be so easy Just let Foster go?

"From the perspective of time, they left not long ago, and we can still catch up with them."

Sherlock comforted Wensty, her mind was already occupied by the word worry.

Of the private cars parked in Adams Manor, only Crowley's black antique car drove away. He rushed back to London overnight, and the rest were all there.

Since Debbie didn't steal the car, the woman just wanted to take Foster away in the dark.

Winsty's worries magnified infinitely in the dark night.

"Debbie didn't kidnap Foster, did she?"

"No. Your uncle is a man, and he's physically stronger than Debbie."

"Then what if she drugged him, or injected him with some kind of anesthetic, the kind of drug that makes people obedient?"

"No. If she had that thing, she would have given it to me long ago."

"Then or..."

Sherlock held Wensty's shoulders with both hands, and he didn't get impatient because she asked a bunch of questions that could be sorted out without even thinking about it. He told her very definitely and patiently: "Trust me, they haven't gone far yet, First will be fine."

His words were like soft velvet, calming her restless emotions.

She nodded and said softly, "Well, I believe you."

"Okay," Sherlock brushed the strands of hair from her forehead, "we're going to catch up with them now."

He pulled off his tie, tied it around his and Wensti's wrists, and took her hand: "Follow me closely."

The moonlight shone on his face, and he was as dignified as a god.

"it is good."

As soon as Wensti finished speaking, he led her to run wildly under the moonlight, like a feather followed by a gust of wind, and she wouldn't stop either if he didn't stop.

The two rushed out of the Adams Manor all the way. There was a faint restlessness hidden in the silence of the forest. Occasionally, the cry of a few small animals was heard, accompanying the two people's running pace.

Sherlock's legs are very long, and one step he takes is equivalent to one and a half steps of Wensty's. Her heartbeat soared as she ran at an extremely fast speed. In front of her eyes was Sherlock's broad shoulders, and at the end of her eyes was a round circle. Mingyue, she suddenly thought that Sherlock led her to run towards the moon.

I don't know how long it took, but the physical strength of the two of them gradually weakened. When Sherlock stopped, Wensty's legs were already weak, unable to support her, and she collapsed. However, it was not Mother Earth who greeted her, but Sherlock's body. Embracing her, Sherlock held her armpit and propped her up.

"It's almost at the bottom of the mountain, they can't go down the mountain."

With Debbie and First's foot strength, they couldn't run so fast.

After Sherlock waited for Wensty's breathing to stabilize, he squatted down and touched the ground. There was a new car mark, which should have been left when Crowley drove away.

"If they didn't go down the mountain, then they are still in the manor?"

If this is the case, then there is no need to be so anxious, and it is also possible that they never left the manor, but she was thinking too much, and Wensty was almost paralyzed from running, and there were convulsive pains in her stomach and calves.

"Let's take a break." Wensty sat on the ground and rubbed her calf.

"Are you tired?"

It's really annoying, Sherlock doesn't seem to be tired at all.

"A guy who never exercised much just ran a minimarathon." So, do you think I'm tired?

"The whole marathon is 42 kilometers, and the distance you just ran is less than half."

"Judging from your tone, you seem to have run a marathon?"

"Run."

Hearing his answer, Wen Sidi was not surprised at all, she asked: "You won't win the championship again?"

"No, No. 3."

"Oh."

It would be terrible if he got No.1 in the marathon. Although the No.3 ranking is also very high, it is still acceptable.

Seeing that Winsty had stopped talking, Sherlock added: "Both No.1 and No.2 are professional long-distance runners."

"Oh." Winsty didn't realize the implication of this sentence at first, she looked up at Sherlock, his whole expression was waiting.

"awesome."

That's what Sherlock really wanted to hear, and he was satisfied, the curly cat's fur was smoothed out.

"Have you rested yet?" Sherlock asked.

Wensti shook his head helplessly, how could it be so easy to recover.

Sherlock walked over to her.

Wensti waved his hand: "Let me rest for another 5 minutes."

He knelt down and said to Winsty, "Come up."

"what?"

Sherlock put her hand on his shoulder, picked up Winsty on his back, and walked towards Adams Manor.

"Sir, you are carrying me on your back."

Sherlock: "Or are you walking by yourself?" She said something that couldn't be more useless.

A bright moon led them home.

The author has something to say: Tomorrow will be updated normally, I am really busy recently, thank you for your support.