I have special killing skills

#Watson's Diary#

Just yesterday, Moriarty sent Sherlock a letter.

I don't know the content of that letter, but Sherlock is obviously very happy.

In fact, I don't understand what Moriarty did. He has a smart head. Both I and Sherlock have given high affirmation to this point, and Sherlock once said, Moriarty was the best gamer he had ever met.

I have reservations about the meaning of this "game".

In that fight a few years ago, it looked as if we had won, but in the end Moriarty had nothing to lose.

See, he has a lover, and a lot of money, and even Mycroft willingly gave him a manor.Little Jim always had a way of making things better for himself.

But we also got a promise, which was made by Moriarty, that he would not do something bad to London, for ten years.This is a good time limit, Sherlock can use this time to completely disintegrate Moriarty's underground forces.

Sherlock was very interested in this, but Mycroft held a pessimistic attitude. In the eyes of the British | government, Moriarty's unrestrained walk meant that he had nothing to do with things that could not be taken away. care.

Just as Mycroft said, Moriarty's underground kingdom disappeared when he left, as if it had never existed, but this does not make the law and order in London better, Lestrade De is still the busiest person, and Sherlock also has countless cases that are enough to support him.

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"You need sleep, Sherlock, and coffee can't replace a bed to give you enough mental rest."

Once again I saw Sherlock shut himself up in the living room all night, and almost wanted to tie the disobedient guy up with a rope and throw him into his room.

Sherlock didn't respond to my suggestion, his curly black hair looked a little sluggish from a night of tossing, but Sherlock himself was very sober, and his slightly pale face looked even paler. Curled up on the sofa, with his chin resting on his hands, he looked like a wax figure.

And after hearing my voice, he just turned his pair of glass-like blue-green eyes symbolically. When he realized that he had to twist his neck to see me, Mr. Detective decided to give up this idea more and more. Decide.

Sherlock continued to sink himself deeper into the sofa, and said in a low voice that seemed to be a cello whisper, "John, sleep is a waste of time and boring. I dull my brain. It's boring. .”

I was a little annoyed at what he said, which made it impossible for me to control my temper.Going forward, I carefully inspected everything on the table, and after confirming that there was nothing on it that I expressly prohibited him from using, I said, "Sherlock, don't let me know what bad things you have done again, Otherwise, I can't forgive you."

"Drugs, you mean?" Sherlock's cold eyes slid across my face, sending chills down my spine, but immediately the big detective grabbed my arm and pulled me closer, " From the day you moved everything from your bedroom to mine, I felt like drugs were boring and he couldn't turn me on."

I was staggered by him, so that I couldn't stop the man from saying what he said in the first place.

The next second, that nice and deep voice filled my ears again: "The only thing that can excite me is you, dear Dr. Watson."

This sentence is very ambiguous.

No, it's clear that all his bad intentions are hidden here.

I stared at him, trying to make my expression serious, but my obviously hot ears told me that everything seemed so useless.

I got rid of his hand, and then rolled up his sleeve to have a look. After confirming that there were no suspicious pinholes on it, I felt completely relieved.

But I'm not going to just let him go, this is the third time Sherlock has stayed up late in a week, and today is exactly the third day of the week.

I think it is necessary to force this wayward guy who likes to go his own way to go back to rest: "Sherlock, you need sleep, I think you may go to sleep now, right now, right now."

Sherlock blinked and looked at me, with a faint smile on his slightly pale lips: "Actually, I went to lie in bed two days ago."

Yes, you are lying in bed, but you are not sleeping at all, but tossing me back and forth - a poor doctor - all night!

I saw in the reflection of Sherlock's beautiful eyes, my face was dark and dark, and the clouds seemed to be ready for lightning and thunder at any moment.Just as I was debating whether it would be more practical to knock him out or threaten him more efficiently, I heard a knock on the door.

Having lived with Sherlock for a long time, I also have some little reasoning skills, such as knocking on the door.

Mycroft likes to knock on the door with the door knocker, and he is very stubborn to break the door knocker to one side, which often makes Sherlock angrily go to straighten the door knocker. His knocking sound is very regular, three times, pause for a while, and then come again. Three times, this frequency can be continued until the door is opened.

Lestrade likes to call. If the matter is so urgent that you have to go to the door to solve it, it is often urgent. This good detective has no way to hesitate, so he will turn the doorknob and rush in. Often I will forgive him He didn't knock on the door. After all, if Lestrade hadn't been so resolute and decisive, Sherlock might have been poisoned to death countless times by his own chemical experiments when he was alone at home.

The neighbors who just came back to Baker Street, Thor and Loki, they don’t come here often, and if they come, it’s usually only Thor alone. He went to open the door with milk, but he always came to borrow milk and never returned it.

But this time the sound was different from the previous ones, it was a thin sound, it seemed to be tapping the door panel quickly with fingers, and occasionally scratching the door with fingernails mischievously, like a cat's behavior.

It's just that this kind of extremely fast-frequency sound makes people feel panicked and uncomfortable.

I frowned, because all the criminals in London knew that the omnipotent detective lived here, and some dangerous things happened from time to time, and I became cautious about opening the door, but Sherlock suddenly jumped from the sofa Getting up, he rushed to the bathroom in one stride.

I looked at the door in amazement, and heard Sherlock's voice floating out: "John, open the door to welcome our guests."

"Do you know who it is?" I was a little confused.

Sherlock raised his voice slightly, sounding a little happy: "Of course, the guy I haven't seen for a long time, I hope he didn't have his leg broken by the Australian kangaroo."

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I went downstairs with doubts. The sound of knocking on the door and scratching the door has never stopped. I suspect that the person is lying on the door at all.

Caution made me hold the pistol in the coat pocket behind the door, carefully put my hand on the doorknob, and twist it open to open the door, while the arm of my gun was always tense.

But the first time I saw this person in front of me, I subconsciously opened my mouth.

With a fair face and a smooth forehead, I stubbornly used hairspray to put all the hair back on my head, and my eyebrows seemed to be slender after careful trimming. When I saw me, I smiled, with curved eyebrows.

"Hi~ good doctor, it's nice to see you again~"