[Comprehensive Yingmei] Genius Lianmeng

Chapter17 Bruce checked in

"Ah, I'm so hungry that my chest is sticking to my back." Watson put down his shopping bag, walked towards the kitchen calmly with flamboyant steps, and opened the refrigerator door calmly and effortlessly, "Ohsh..." Swallowed it back.Then he opened the refrigerator again, his dull expression was exactly the same as that of Mr. Skull who appeared out of nowhere.

The well-tested Watson would not be stunned by a mere human head, unless the skull of the human head was opened by a chainsaw and a craniotomy key, and the brain in the cranial cavity disappeared.

"I am sincerely sorry if I have frightened our little John who invaded Afghanistan." Hannibal looked up from the thick Italian version of the "Culinary Dictionary", his chestnut hair looked dim and brilliant against the light "Since young Holmes used the human head to test the condensation rate of the sweat-stained beard, I believe he does not mind that I make the best use of the irrelevant parts."

That is to say, he was down... Watson put his hands on his hips and his head drooped, looking helpless and dejected.

And Sherlock squatted on the sofa, pretending to be serious, covering his face with a copy of the Times—almost unable to completely block it—smiling like an electrified metal sieve.

Watson angrily tore at the newspaper, ready to teach this guy a lesson—he had been told not to bring any experimental materials back to 221B—but when he saw the paper, he wrinkled his smile. Baba still had an extraordinarily childish face, and his anger was like the Titanic crashing into solid ice.

At the Abnormal Human Research Center, so far, Watson has never seen a man who is so decent and handsome in a shirt and a simple black suit like Sherlock. He doesn't even need a tie, bow tie or A handkerchief tucked in a pocket for an embellishment...

Except for this uninvited guest who appeared ghostly at the door of the living room.

His appearance made Watson's part of the warrior's nerves instantly connected, even though the visitor looked so harmless:

The black and messy hair was dripping with alcohol, and the whole body exuded the smell of high-end champagne.A pair of foggy and dull eyes are blue mixed with brown. Under the light, they sometimes turn light green, and sometimes they turn into amber, which is extremely rare in humans but common in cats.His shirt, of fine material, was wrinkled and wide open, and his tie was missing, revealing a strong, scarred chest.His left breast pocket was empty, and a beautiful woman with his left arm around him was wiping his face with his handkerchief, giggling coquettishly.Not to be outdone, the beautiful woman holding the right arm of the visitor blows into his ear like blue.The blond, big-breasted beauties were all heavily made-up and scantily clad, as though the cold and humidity of March in London were their coats.

What type of situation is this?

"Did you go to the wrong room, sir?" Watson stepped forward and said, no matter how you look at it, you feel that the high-end and high-end visitors don't match the small, messy and weird atmosphere of 221B Baker Street.

"Walk into the wrong room? No. Playboy? No." The world's only consulting detective jumped up from the sofa, his eyes were exactly the same as those of a solitary feline encountering the same kind—excited, alert and furious at the same time, "Height six Foot two inches, weighing 210 pounds... You are a rich second generation in the eyes of a goldfish, at least at the level of the richest man in a certain city; It's a housekeeper, which may prove that your taste in dress is as bad as your taste in female companions; you're used to wearing a cloak with a belt, and the belt is no small thing, definitely more than a belt in the ordinary sense; see Your hand is simply a form to record your training: taekwondo, judo, boxing, ninjutsu, fencing... By the way, you have also practiced Shaolin boxing, Taijiquan and Baguazhang. Ten years of hard training, no immediate results and then giving up - not the best trade-off, I would say, look at your scars, despite all the rigors of physical training, specific diet and Biofeedback training, strength, speed, endurance, sensitivity and reaction speed have reached the highest level of human physical fitness, but the pain and..."

Oh Abnormal Human Research Center!If you keep talking like this, something will happen!

Watson exerted his physical strength to the limit, fiercely pounced on the consulting detective whose speech speed surpassed the highest level of human beings, and pressed his chattering and chattering back into the muscular chest cavity...

"Sorry, Sherlock," he said through gritted teeth, "you just lie on the ground for a while, and I won't get up until I make sure you can keep your mouth shut."

"You like the riding style?" one of the enthusiastic American girls said with interest, "I like this position too, it makes me feel in control of everything. I thought British men were in bed It's a dull old stubborn."

Watson: "..." He really didn't bother to explain the proposition of "curved and straight".Also, Sherlock, please don't laugh so hard that your whole body shakes like an electric massage stick!

"As for the highest level of human physical ability," another enthusiastic woman seemed to be more interested in Sherlock, "Baby Bruce has already proved it for us in bed."

"American women are terrible..." Watson whispered weakly on Sherlock.

"Please, dear John, use your little head the size of a teddy bear and your round eyes: these two ladies are clearly from San Francisco, which has a different moral code than most religious places in America, let alone them My career is a film actor. You know, John, jewelry with different textures than a large area of ​​clothing, wearing one piece of jewelry is extraordinary, wearing two pieces is neat and tidy, wearing three pieces is elegant and dignified, and wearing four pieces or more is horrible And these two gaudy female companions, look like they want to wear all the jewelry they have and want more from the patron. Oh, don't stare at me like that, Dr. Lecter will use more sarcasm vocabulary."

Bruce...

The richest man in a certain city...

The rich second generation and the playboy...

belt and cape...

The limit of human physical ability...

Bruce...

Bruce Wayne...

Using Sherlock's chest as a fulcrum, Watson weakly raised his head from his roommate's chest, and said with a long sigh, "Abnormal Human Research Center..."

This exclamation seemed to trigger a switch, and a ray of light flashed across those sea-blue eyes like meteors for a short time. The hazy drunkenness seemed to be wiped away by the hands of a magician, and those deep eyes became sharp and serious.But when he turned his head and made fun of his girlfriends, the drunkenness was put back exactly: "Okay, it's time for boring men to talk, in order to prevent your cute little heads from falling asleep, There will be a driver to pick you up. Now go downstairs, your favorite black Mercedes is waiting for you."

After witnessing two butterflies flying out of Baker Street and flying into the black Mercedes-Maybach, Bruce closed the door tightly, wandered around the living room and kitchen, unscrewed eight cameras with his bare hands and threw them into the trash box.Scanning with his sunken eyes, he found the calmness of the three people.

Combining months of investigation and a few minutes of observation, Bruce said straight to the point: "Abnormal Human Research Center, Genius Branch Center. I am your new neighbor, Bruce Wayne, and I rented Mrs. Hudson's 221C , I hope we can get along well.”

Well, it's really good.Watson was feeling weak all over, and his brain was still thinking.Already in this small central London apartment there was a self-proclaimed sociopath with a low EQ detective who was always on the verge of life and death, and a psychiatrist on whom the psychiatric community disagreed as to whether he should be considered a human being, With a military medic who happens to be raised in China and trained in Special Forces and invaded Afghanistan, now add a transvestite and S^M lover with a bizarre obsession with nightlife (his tastes are overwhelming , the guy prefers to spend his nights with all kinds of hooligans, thugs and criminals than glamorous girls)...

"Ah, boys! My apartment is getting bustling, and there's nothing like joy for an old man." Mrs. Hudson appeared at the living room door in an apron, smiling broadly like a daisy.

Oh, and a former stripper who was involved in a massive drug trade.

Feeling that his thick nerves had grown several times in a blink of an eye, Watson swore to himself that the next knock on the door would be Voldemort waving his wand and chanting Avada Kedavra, a werewolf baring his teeth, a vampire baring his teeth, or riding a flying saucer. Alien, he can also do not panic.

"Acupofteawouldbeverynice, thank you."

"I'm your land lady, my dear, not your housekeeper."

"But I'm the housekeeper, Mrs. Hudson." An old man with gray hair and a straight back appeared behind Mrs. Hudson. Amiable people to be neighbors."

"Butler, assistant, valet, guardian, ex-British Security Service agent, no, MI6..." Sherlock said, resting his chin, "It's a pity that Mycroft couldn't watch this scene. I do hope you stay Britain, at least can compete with him as the leader of MI[-]."

"I had the honor to work with Brother Ling, Mr. Holmes Jr., but I was in charge of external military intelligence and he was in charge of internal affairs." The former MI6 agent said kindly, which was completely different from his former partner.

"You are too strong to be able to live to this age with Mycroft for at least three years, Mr. Pennyworth, please allow me to express my respect and blessings to you, not to mention the fact that the head of MI5 has made a cameo appearance in the CIA. Trouble with you."

"At most, it caused a traffic jam, Mr. Holmes." The former agent said in a calm and unobtrusive manner. His ups and downs British accent was strangely mixed with American flavors, which made Mrs. Hudson who had lived in Florida for many years Felt very gracious, not to mention the gentleman offered to bake cookies and make tea with her.

Watson's head was buzzing, and he wasn't sure if it was adrenaline rushing to his brain.

"Why did you use ginger ale instead of champagne, Bruce? Can I call you Bruce?" Hannibal said between sips of black tea.

"How did you find out?" asked Sherlock's colleague, another great detective in the world, with a hint of confusion and vigilance. His disguise must be perfect, and no mistakes are allowed.

"Don't worry, Bruce, not everyone has a nose like the doctor's." Sherlock broke free from the crush of his companions, and Watson moved another chair in the posture of a teddy bear, "I'm sure He smells ginger on your breath, even though you may have chewed champagne-flavored gum or swished champagne repeatedly."

"This cover-up has been done to perfection, Bruce." Watson said sincerely, "You can't expect London citizens or criminals to come from the Abnormal Human Research Center."

"I thought they were members of the Abnormal Human Research Center, John." Bruce raised an eyebrow, his voice and manner were very elegant, with a kind of unenthusiastic politeness, a touch of alienation and a hint of flirtatiousness Young Master's frivolity, "After all, you look so ordinary and ordinary, if you ignore that you once killed a serial killer with a single shot a hundred meters away, and follow the high-function anti-social to run around the streets of London every day." He lowered his voice, Like whispers on a date.

"You have been investigating us for three months, Bruce? You are one of the few people in this world who know how to observe, and it took you three months to investigate this information? What are you doing these three months?" Sherlock said in the same way. Looking straight at him sharply, "yeah, right, stupid, stupid! There have been faint noises coming from the ground for three months, apparently you made a hole like a mouse in the ground of 221C, you..."

"Shutup, Sherlock!" Watson waved his arms angrily, "That's called the Batcave, please be professional!" He pulled open the collar of the consulting detective, took out the other's iPhone, and said "John, be careful!" Click", "Wait...why is there no information about Batman? Wikipedia, Baidu Encyclopedia, movies and news...no, none! Is there a world without Batman stories?"

"John, in your world, Batman may be a story, or it may be adapted into a comic book that is only good for wiping your ass or a movie that does nothing but complain, but another time and space-for you, it can be called Two-dimensional——Bruce Wayne and Gotham are real." Bruce Wayne took the coffee from the butler's hand, and took a sip gracefully.

"What did the research center give you in exchange, Bruce?" Hannibal put down his teacup.

Thick black eyelashes fell like curtains over deep blue eyes, but his body language betrayed emotion—or, rather, Bruce didn't bother to suppress himself—his strong, muscular, dark hands were tight. He clenched tightly, his veins bulging, as if he was about to swing towards the statue-like and serene doctor.

"Do you drink tea and coffee with your parents, Bruce? Oh, you don't, why?"

"Dr. Lecter..." Watson stopped him.

"Because your parents died, right?"

Bruce's dark face seemed frozen, and his deep blue eyes blurred, like fine lines and ripples on the surface of a calm sea.

Dr. Lecter took just a small sip of his Pain Taste, and found the flavor to be delicious!One bite is enough for today.

Watson turned his head and gave the doctor a cold look, and said in a tone like liquid nitrogen he had never had before, "Do you remember Mason Verger, Dr. Lecter?"

"Of course, Johnny, I'm an old friend. We had a talk, and Mason cut off his own nose and fed it to the dogs."

Watson took a deep breath and said: "He lives on a large estate, gets children from an orphanage, and mixes their tears with martinis. It seems that you and your old friend are like-minded and live on other people's tears. .”

At this moment, he looked like the angel of judgment descending to the world with the holy light.