[Comprehensive British and American] The vest system of the son of hell

"My dear, if we are stuck in this time and space for a long time, they will only think that we are in trouble that common sense cannot solve."

"Ancient Lady", or in other words, the member of the ancient intelligent race "Lizardman" who has lived on the earth since the Silurian period——

Madame Vastra comforts her wife and assistant with tenderness.

"Then what should we do now?"

Jenny looked at Vastra angrily: "Someone came to ask for our help, but you actually sent someone to pretend to be a branch girl to scare him away!"

"I need to determine whether he can be trusted."

Vastra raised the black veil, revealing the lizard man's face: "At present, he does not—"

"I do not think so!"

The Santa Star (commonly known as the Potato Star) Starks (Strax) who was sent to Victorian London to accept the punishment for defeating the time lord interrupted Mrs. Lizard and Jenny.

With plenty of martial arts, he wanted to personally determine whether this male, who according to Jenny, looked very in line with the aesthetic standards of earthlings, was qualified to be their companion.

"Santa people don't need to be burdensome!"

Starks said with a firm attitude.

"Okay, I'll leave this to you for the time being."

"Lady Lizard" Vastra said slowly.

As an intelligent and long-lived race older than humans, she is not as eager to return to the original universe as her companions.

……

Walking out of the street where the ancient divination hall is located, Matthew touched the few pennies left in his pocket, and prepared to—

"Hey!"

The magician on the side of the road suddenly made a sound.

Immediately afterwards, the magician ran up to him: "Matthew? Matthew Fast? Constantine?"

"You know my... God! Mr. Steven Strange! How...how could you..."

Matthew looked at the distraught Supreme Mage in disbelief: "You also came to this world?"

"Not only was he brought into this world, but he lived a very bad life."

Strange put a wry smile on Matthew's shoulder: "I haven't eaten for a few days, can you buy me some bread and water?"

"You are the supreme mage..."

Matthew couldn't believe that Strange would fare so badly in an alternate universe of nineteenth-century London, England: "You can conjure food with magic, can't you?"

"It's immoral."

Unwilling to admit that London, England in this time and space is covered by a strange force that prevents him from using magic power, Strange tries to get away with "morality".

"You're starving to death and still being moral?"

Matthew was surprised: "We just misappropriated it temporarily, and we will make up the money after the financial situation improves."

"That...that..."

Strange couldn't laugh or cry.

Since he became the supreme mage of the earth, his financial situation has not improved, and he is so poor that he works odd jobs everywhere!

However, even so, Strange still did not intend to tell the truth about his predicament to the handsome young man in front of him who was related to the most notorious John Constantine in the magic world.

Even if it's just for the dignity of the Supreme Mage.

"Okay, I probably understand..."

Matthew, who was vaguely aware of Doctor Strange's unspeakable secret, patted Strange on the shoulder: "I still have the last few pennies, so I can treat you to black bread."

"Black bread..."

Strange smiled wryly again.

Living in the 21st century, even when he was the poorest, he never ate the kind of black bread with bran, sawdust or even lime wall powder that the poor in the [-]th century ate most!

"I'd like to treat you to white bread and bacon and stew, too, if I could, but I'm not much better off financially than you are."

Matthew shrugged, hoping Strange understood his helplessness.

"I'm even going to move to Whitechapel for a while."

"Whitechapel? Isn't that..."

Strange gasped.

Matthew: "It's very cheap there, although the security is not very good."

"I'll move in and live with you." Strange said, "Do you know that I don't even have a place to live now?"

"I know now."

Matthew smiled dryly, took out all his last few pennies to buy black bread, leaned against the wall of the alley, and shared this inedible food with Doctor Strange.

"How did we end up in such a miserable state?"

Strange couldn't help expressing his feelings: "If you didn't bring strange guys to the New York sanctuary to find me."

"Can I be blamed for this? I am obviously the one who was involved for no reason!" Matthew said, "That guy called himself Professor Moriarty, he came from London, England in the 21th century, and he was looking for the supreme mage of the [-]st century. You started from That’s his goal, and I’m piggybacking on it.”

"All right……"

Strange paused temporarily, his throat was stung by the rough taste of black bread: "Can you give me a glass of water? My throat...is so dry that it's unbearable to choke..."

"Sorry, I'm afraid—"

"Want to drink water?"

A thick voice sounded from below.

Matthew and Strange looked down and saw—

a potato?

To be exact, a large chocolate-colored head with facial features, and...

Matthew is not sure whether "dwarf" should be used to describe this "gentleman" whose figure and appearance seriously do not conform to the aesthetics of earthlings.

"Don't you want to drink water?"

Starks, the Santa, got a little impatient when he couldn't wait for an answer.

"Thank you, what should I call you?"

Matthew was as polite as possible.

Starks snorted: "I'm Starks, Mrs. Vastra, no, it's Mrs. Ancient who asked me to send you something that you might use here."

"The ancient lady? Vastra?"

"That's not the point!"

Starks took out a handful of shillings and handed them to Strange, who looked relatively in line with his aesthetics: "Take it! Don't starve to death on the streets of London!"

"Mr. Starks, you really..."

"Santa people don't need thanks!"

After speaking, Starks turned and left.

Strange touched the shilling with residual heat and felt——

"Matthew, are you hiding something from me?"

"Ok?"

"About the ancient lady... Madam Vastra..."

Strange shook the shilling in his hand: "Is she a friend you met here? Or—"

"I don't know any more about Mrs. Ancient than you do."

Matthew said half-truthfully: "After I came to this world, I found out from the slums in the East District that there was an ancient divination hall on the opposite street. I wanted to ask her to help me go back, but she refused to meet me, and even disguised the divination hall as a special women's house."

"Is it a special girls' house? If I can provide free board and lodging, I don't mind."

The poor and crazy Strange blurted out.

Matthew: "..."

Calming down a bit, he spread Strange's tightly gripping Shilling's hand: "I think we should think about something good to eat for dinner now... Let me see how many we got, one, two, three... Wow, Mrs. Ancient gave us fifteen pounds plus three shillings!"

"This amount of money is enough for us to eat and drink for a month!"

Strange exclaimed.

Matthew added: "If it was in Whitechapel, the money could even buy a nice house as a place to live!"

"I will never live with you!" Strange yelled.

Matthew: "Why do you think I'm going to use this money to buy a house in Whitechapel and live with you?"

"I--"

"I won't be separated from you for a while, because I want to go back!" Matthew said, "And you, for me, are the way to go back."

"so--"

"Until we find a way to go back, we must all act together! By the way, it is because of me that Madam Ancient sent the Santa people to send shillings to help us, so the right to use the money belongs to me."

"I……"

Strange, who lost the power and support of Visandi and was indeed somewhat wrong in this matter, had to admit Matthew's right to control the shillings sent by the Santars.

"Well, you're right."

……

"Mary, I brought a friend—"

Matthew pushed open the half-hidden door and found Mary sitting on the edge of the bed crying with her baby in her arms, and there was stale black bread on the lame wooden table.

"What's going on? You look..."

"nothing……"

The woman wiped away her tears, raised her head, and squeezed out a professional smile: "Welcome back, sir, and your—"

"Your servant?" Strange asked uncertainly.

Mary was dressed too fancy to be a servant, but she certainly exuded the weariness of overwork.

"Mary, my friend in the East Side..." Matthew said, "She is a very easy person to get along with and knows everything about the East Side."

"But she looks—"

Strange didn't want to use insulting words for a woman who was tired and mothered, although—

"Well, I'm a female branch girl, the kind who mends, revises, starches and washes clothes during the day and entertains guests in the alley at night."

Mary smiled frankly.

"Young women in the East End basically live like this," she said.

"why?"

"why why?"

Mary, who has accepted the miserable fate of the bottom since she can remember, finds Strange's words incomprehensible, and her tired eyes fell on Matthew's face: "Your friend is as naive as you, or it's the first time we met world."

"Sorry……"

Strange apologizes to Mary.

It's not that he doesn't know how hard the life of the poor is, but he just doesn't know that the poor in London in the nineteenth century lived so hard and so hard that they were as numb as rotten pickles at a young age.

Mary didn't care about that.

The difficult life has worn away most of her emotions, leaving only the instinct to live.

Facing Matthew and Strange, Mary tried to smile: "If there are two people, you have to charge double overnight fees."

"You actually..."

Strange looked at Matthew in disbelief, thinking that Matthew and Mary last night—

"I just spent the night in her room last night, without doing anything extra." Matthew explained, "She needs guests, and I need a place to stay overnight."

"I know, I didn't think much of it."

Strange smiled "I understand".

Matthew: "..."

He picked up the stale black bread on the table and cut off a slice: "Why don't you buy some fresh bread with the money I gave you?"

"Bread that is stale is edible bread, isn't it?"

Mary tried to smile.

Her life was so poor and difficult that half a penny could not be wasted.

Seeing Mary like this, both Matthew and Strange felt sorry.

"us……"

Strange glanced at Matthew and asked Mary, "How much does it cost to rent here for a month?"

"If it's just for living, half a pound is enough."

"OK……"

Matthew took out a pound and put it on the table: "The two of us plan to live here for a month, and this is our room fee."

"This...this is too..."

Mary was ecstatic.

Living at the bottom, she hadn't seen a pound for countless years.

Even the most generous of patrons would only give her a shilling for her service.

And they...

Matthew took out another shilling: "We have something to do, so we will leave for a while, and hope to see fresh bread and soup on the table when we come back."

"No problem! I must... definitely..."

Mary was so moved that tears rushed out of her eyes, and the cheap lead powder on her face was washed out of the gullies.

Strange couldn't stand it anymore, and urged Matthew to leave quickly.

……

Walking out of the shabby room and through the corridor lined with shabby and dilapidated rooms, Matthew and Doctor Strange walked out of a two-story wooden building that resembled a 21st-century government tenement, and stood at the entrance of a stinky alley.

"Where do you want to go next?" Strange asked.

Matthew: "Whitechapel..."

"Whitechapel?"

Strange's complexion changed drastically: "I'm no longer a believer!"

Even borrow the power of demons when necessary.

Doctor Strange added in his mind.

Matthew saw through Doctor Strange's uneasiness, and reminded: "I have been to the Whitechapel, and there is no sacred power in the church."

"There is no holy power in the Whitechapel?"

Doctor Strange was surprised.

He originally thought that he could not use magic power in London, England in this time and space because the city was filled with strong holy power, and magic was rejected by the holy power.

"There is no divine power, but there is the breath of black magic."

"you sure?"

"Pretty sure..." Matthew said, "after all, my biological father was a genius in the dark arts."

"Then you are in the field of black magic..."

"I have never learned the Dark Arts."

"Uh……"

Strange is pretty sure Matthew is lying.

But he has no evidence, so he can only temporarily accept Matthew's "never learned black magic" setting, and walk into the White Church occupied by black magic.

……

"They went to Whitechapel?"

After listening to Starks' report, Mrs. Lizard Vastra showed a subtle smile.

Jenny was puzzled, and asked her lover: "Your smile looks like—"

"I thought of some interesting things." Vastra said, "Recently, near Whitechapel, murders have occurred almost every night. The dead's death posture resembles the work of Jack the Ripper."

"You suspect that Jack the Ripper was also sent to this time and space?"

Vastra smiled, and stroked Jenny's face with her fingers: "Honey, now is the romantic moment for talking about love, don't talk about such a bloody topic as Jack the Ripper, okay?"

"Obviously you started this topic!"

"But now I want to—"

"Mr. Robert of Scotland Yard would like to see you, ma'am."

Earlier, she deliberately dressed herself as a girl with heavy makeup to scare away Matthew, but now the front desk staff of the divination house, Alisa, who has washed off the heavy makeup and restored a classical and correct appearance, knocked on the door to interrupt the hostess's romantic interest.

"What is he doing for me?"

"I don't know. I suspect that he is looking for his wife because of the serial murders in Whitechapel."

"really……"

Vastra nodded and told Alyssa to take Robert to Room [-] to wait.

While wearing the optical veil, she looked up at the sky.

The lizardman's instinct told her that an unprecedented darkness was approaching.

……

"how so!"

Walking into the white church, which was extremely empty during the day, Strange was suddenly overwhelmed by the black magic breath.

Immediately afterwards, he discovered that the black magic aura lingering in the White Church was not directly related to any kind of black magic he was familiar with, and it was impossible to establish a connection, let alone use it.

"It's really unusual here..." Matthew said, "Magic can't be used, but there is powerful black magic. It's a church, but there is no sacred power..."

Strange interrupted Matthew's emotion, and asked directly: "What do you think about this situation?"

"I do not know."

"Then you still-"

"I think there might be a breakthrough here."

"Uh..." Strange was silent again.

He felt that he must be possessed by the god of bad luck, so he frequently matched with bad teammates.

"Have fun, Doctor Strange."

Matthew comforted him insincerely, and led Strange towards the empty altar, pointed to the icon of the cross that was dripping blood in his vision, and said, "What did you see?"

"The holy icon of the cross looks like a vintage antique, and it is likely to be very valuable..."

"Just these?"

"Can you see something else?"

"Yes, I can see other things."

Matthew reached out, took Strange's hand, and shared part of his vision with Doctor Strange.

"Oh, God!"

Strange shuddered.

What did he see!

Thick and indispellable darkness gathered on the dome of the White Church, the holy cross was dripping blood, and the thick blood formed crimson puddles on the surface of the altar...

"It's an illusion, isn't it?"

Unwilling to accept reality, Strange decides to lie to himself.

Matthew shook his head and told him sincerely: "These are all real."

"But I can't see..." Strange said, "If I shake your hand off, I'll—"

"You've seen that you can't lie to yourself."

Matthew squeezed Strange's hand tightly and forced him to face the dark reality: "Whitechapel is being swallowed by darkness. Once the darkness breaks through the church, it will immediately spread to the entire Whitechapel area, killing the poor people living here !"

"They would have lived a life that would have been worse than death, if...if..."

Strange couldn't go on.

His conscience does not allow him to say such cold-blooded words.

Matthew let go of Strange's hand at this moment.

The darkness and blood disappeared instantly, and the vision returned to dignity and sanctity.

however--

As Matthew said, he has seen the truth, and he can't lie to himself.

Behind this dignified and sacred illusion is a cruel reality that may be swallowed by darkness at any time.

"us……"

Strange parted his lips with difficulty: "What should we do now?"

"I don't know," said Matthew. "I thought you could see this as well as I could, and use your experience fighting the dark to help me out."

"Then are you disappointed now?"

Matthew shook his head: "It is indeed a little disappointing, but it also verified my other guess."

"What guess?"

"Uh……"

"can not say?"

"Just a half-baked idea."

"Then you still-"

Before the words were finished, the priest walked into the chapel.

Strange hastily lowered his head, pretending to be a devout believer.

Matthew went straight to the priest: "Hi, I'm a plainclothes detective from Scotland Yard."

"Scotland Yard?"

The priest looked displeased.

Contrary to the cognition of later generations, in the 30s and [-]s, when the London police force was first established, Scotland Yard had a very bad reputation among the public, so that when Scotland Yard sent plainclothes police detectives on duty for the first time, the public shouted loudly and refused. "Spy" appeared around.

It wasn't until the late nineteenth century that public security in London improved significantly due to the use of plainclothes police detectives that people gradually accepted and trusted Scotland Yard.

Therefore, the priest's expression was displeased, but Matthew didn't care. He explained slowly: "The higher-ups have noticed that there are frequent vicious deaths in the Whitechapel area, and it is likely to be an extremely vicious serial murder case."

"Do you have a way to stop Satan?"

The priest looked at Matthew and Strange mockingly.

Doctor Strange: "..." You think I'm with him before asking?

Matthew: "At least as police detectives, we should do something for the public, instead of letting Satan wander in the dark night and kill innocent people indiscriminately."

"We don't need your help. God the Father has answered our prayers. The demons wandering in the Whitechapel area will be subdued soon."

The priest arrogantly rejected Matthew, and even raised his hand to drive them away.

Strange: "..."

Matthew: "..."

Well, since these people don't welcome themselves, they can only-

"Farewell..."

Matthew put on his top hat, and walked out of the Whitechapel, which had long been a dark lair, and the people living in it were unaware of it, together with Strange, who was also unwelcome.

Standing in front of the White Church, Strange asked Matthew, "Do you believe what the priest said?"

"Don't you believe it?"

Matthew asked Strange back.

Strange smiled and said, "I'm the same as you."

Then he said: "The priest has clearly rejected us, and even intends to drive us away. If we stay forcibly, we may encounter—"

"As a priest, he does have the ability to mobilize the congregation to drive us away..." Matthew smiled slyly, "However, this is the East End of London, the most chaotic East End of London."

"You want to stay here?"

"Until I find the murderer in the name of Satan or find a way to go home, I will not leave voluntarily."

With that said, Matthew glanced at the sky.

He saw a thick darkness hovering over the steeple of the church.