No feeding of soul gems

If Sherlock was already annoyed by the time travelers' normal behavior, the way they treated the case without any seriousness was driving him crazy.

About the third day after the arrival of the space-time traveler, Sherlock received a call from "the idiots" of Scotland Yard, inviting him to participate in the detection of a new case, so the musty detective at home took His "assistant" rushed to the scene.

Said it was the scene, but in fact the place Lestrade took them to first was the morgue.

"You have to be careful," the sheriff warned. "I must say that man is not very good-looking now."

If Sherlock frowned, it was only because he was underestimated. In fact, even Dr. Watson didn't think he would be frightened.

As a result, the two of them almost died in the basement.

While the two new friends were leaning against the wall and vomiting, Vormir was playing chess with Strange on the other side.

The soul gem is required to "not use any power beyond mortals", but with the wisdom that the mortal body cannot accumulate, he quickly killed a certain mage who was full of ambition.Fortunately, Strange held his ground, otherwise he would have been really mad at this old villain. "You should look at the expression on your face. Why do I think it's better to keep a distance from the people on Earth? Your expression is no different from those middle-aged men who won the bet."

Vormir immediately decided that he should lean in and give him a kiss or a punch, and when Mrs. Hudson brought up the tray, she had the honor of admiring a black-eyed Mage Supreme.

"I'd say it's fulfilled my Sherlock fantasies for years," the kindly old woman admitted, "for an average of 360 five days a year I've been fantasizing about when John will come straight to his face." One punch."

"I think it's difficult to get them to be 'straight'," Strange retaliated.

This won Mrs. Hudson a half-complaining, half-loving glance.

After putting down the tea tray, she folded her hands in a rather hesitant manner, and said immediately: "I have something to tell you, some customers contacted Sherlock a week ago, and they made an appointment to come today Interview with him, but Sherlock - well, you know, he's too excited to get anywhere when a new case comes up."

Vormir raised his eyebrows somewhat curiously.

Strange had a vague premonition.

"I could have called him, but neither of them answered, and the couple was a little emotional..." Mrs. Hudson kept her voice down as she spoke, and finally gave up covering up, and directly Said his own request, "...So I was wondering if you could meet them instead of Sherlock, just one meeting is enough, I think they will talk about the specific matters later."

"I'm sorry—" Strange looked apologetic.

"Of course." At the same time, Vormir said briskly.

The Supreme Mage turned his head stiffly to stare at his cosmic-level boyfriend, wishing he could immediately borrow a new version of the restraint from Tony and lock him in a cage to teach the rules of the earth.

The West couple came from a very remote small town. They recently encountered a trouble that ordinary people could not solve. The manor was haunted.My wife has read Dr. Watson's column in her free time, and the two of them often see news about Detective Sherlock Holmes in newspapers and social media. They know that he is well-known and has real talents, so they came all the way to him for help. .

But as soon as she entered the room, Mrs. West felt that her eyes seemed a little blurry.

She tugged at her husband's arm secretly, and asked in a low voice, "Is it my illusion, or is there something wrong with Mr. Holmes' hairstyle?"

"He's had his hair cut, probably for professional reasons," her husband replied. "I wonder, too, is it just my delusion or does Mr. Holmes really have a beard? A Balbo beard, seriously? But he looks Still proud."

"Keep your voice down." Mrs. West bumped dissatisfiedly, "Didn't you see that Mr. Detective has been busy with work recently, and even his hair has turned gray a lot? People in Scotland Yard are always like this, adding more people for nothing. It’s a lot of work, and those of us who really need help but the police don’t file a case have nowhere to turn.”

They didn't know that their discussion was all overheard by the two metahumans.

Strange had exhausted all his life's strength to block the integrity of the Supreme Mage, so as not to turn these two customers into slugs on the spot; and Vormir... If Vormir was still in the gem state, Might have laughed it off.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Strange finally asked.

Mrs. West hurriedly described the situation in the manor again, and then looked at her savior sincerely: "What do you think may be the reason?"

Strange: "..."

I know a hammer!

Annoyed in his heart, without showing it on his face, he took a deep breath and struggled weakly: "Maybe...maybe...I think I might have to go to the scene to see it before I have any clues."

At that moment, Vormir clearly heard his heartbeat——

Just wait and see, Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock is indeed turning dead.

Lestrade's warning was completely justified. The male corpse could hardly be called a corpse, but basically a puddle of mud. Even Dr. Watson, who is extremely professional, wished silently that he had never Walk into this room too.

Not only was he somewhat uncomfortable because of the bloody scene, but also dissatisfied that there would be a lot of evidence lost in this state, Mr. Holmes almost jumped to his feet in the basement.

"One day I'll have to give each of these people at Scotland Yard a 'stupidest employee in the world' certificate." He growled, "Look at this, it's obviously not the result of a single injury, they didn't even care about protecting the scene , what else can I expect them to do, blow bubbles to kids at the park?"

There is a part of John Watson that wants to force a smile at this image.

"Presumably you have also discovered that we really have no better way." Lestrade, who fell behind, sighed, "This corpse was found in the wild, but it was an unmonitored area, and the degree of damage was huge." It's so tragic..."

"So you really should replace with better staff," Sherlock said coldly.

He stared at the corpse, circled around, trying to find more clues—yes, even in this seemingly unthinkable headless case, he still found more clues at a glance than Scotland Yard could find in a week. more clues.

But his thinking didn't last long.

Suddenly there was a strange sound in the basement, rustling, rustling, finely broken, rustling.

For a few seconds, Watson almost thought that today was the moment when he bid farewell to materialism and opened the door to a new world. Then he realized that he was wrong, but he was also right.

A shining spark first appeared in the mid-air, it spun, splashed in all directions, and exploded in circle after circle, forming a huge door.Sherlock swore he saw the pajamas on the other side of the door that he had hung on the sofa from running so fast that morning.

"Christ Jesus!" murmured Lestrade, "am I dreaming?"

"I'm sorry," at the same time, Strange came out of the portal and said insincerely, "I didn't expect you to have guests in this kind of place." Sherlock immediately gave him a dissatisfied look. . "Mr. West and Mrs. West send their greetings to you, ah, I almost forgot, maybe some famous detectives have no professional ethics at all, and they let customers who came from thousands of miles sit and wait at the door, even Not even a cup of hot tea."

If it weren't for Watson's sharp eyesight and quick hands, he felt that his partner might have already walked up to the other party to talk about life face-to-face.

"What are you busy with?" Vormir on the side ignored the contest between the two elementary school students, but turned to the only person in the house who was out of state, and asked curiously.

"Research how he died." Lestrade, who had a broken worldview, replied subconsciously.

"What's the point of researching this, or turn back the time, or ask him to come out and ask, won't the problem be solved?" Strange said calmly.

Lestrade took a step back and looked at Watson beggingly, "Did I just hear him say—"

"He said he wanted to ask the corpse." The kind doctor Watson completed it.

"Christ fucking Jesus of the Seven Hells."

It took Vormir about 2 minutes to find the man's soul out of the soul space, and then he spent another 2 minutes telling how he was murdered.

Strange leaned against the wall leisurely, Lestrade opened his mouth looking at the translucent soul and at the corpse on the stretcher, while the detective duo stood by the door with completely opposite expressions on their faces.

"This is cheating." Sherlock said decisively, "There is no deductive method at all, but a simple and crude solution to the problem. There is no beauty in this method."

"But you have to admit it," John Watson said quietly, looking at the honest ghost like a quail, "you have to admit that at least the problem has been solved."

Mr. Holmes sneered at the mage not far away who was glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

We'll see, he thought, we'll see.

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Vormir: Everyone is Cai Chicken, why to Zhuo, together.