[Comprehensive Yingmei] Genius Lianmeng

Chapter 31 Playing badly with Mo Niang

Letting Sherlock watch soap operas is a fun and dangerous thing, with his arms folded, his long legs curled up, and his feet firmly together on the sofa.The collar of the coat stood up, and the hem of the clothes covered his knees. "No, no, no" came out of his mouth that could not be idle at that moment. Two-finger Zen Watson was typing on the keyboard under the lamp. The skull of a cow, staring silently at the peace disturbed by the cats in 221B.

Three Continents John and asexual Sherlock have fully recovered from that unexpected "kiss", or they think they have recovered without stress.

"We have no more milk, Sherlock." Watson stretched his waist and walked towards the door, "and I will never look toward you taking some. You always take an adventure." meaning)

"Actually, I bought some corn kernels, beans and butter yesterday - butter has been consumed faster than sugar." Sherlock was still curled up tightly, only the left eyebrow was raised.

At this moment, Watson suddenly remembered the cat he had raised, the cat that obviously needed human feeding, but still regarded itself as the head of the family.

His cat has caught many strange things for him.A fish tail, dug out of the kitchen trash can.A ball of wool is its favorite toy.A dead mouse, caught outside, not quite dead when he put it on the floor of Watson's bedroom.The gecko has a tail. It waited in the corner for a long time before catching it...

For all the unflattering trinkets and dead animals (just like Sherlock's habit of storing dead bodies), it was all a cat had.

With a little warmth in his chest, Watson was full of courage, and embarked on the road he had known and chosen for a long time.

——He turned himself into a selfless and good boy who knew that there were tigers in the mountains, and he was inclined to go to the mountains.

[Can you kindly bring some onions and carrots, Little John?Tomorrow I plan to make seafood risotto. 】

After receiving Dr. Lecter's text message, Watson smiled knowingly and replied "OK". Before he could press send, he found a taxi, fatefully parked at the door of the apartment.

"For John Hamish Watson."

"Sorry, I didn't call a taxi."

"I'm not asking for your opinion, sir, but giving you the news." The driver drew his pistol and pointed it at him.

There are at least four ways that Watson can subdue the gun-wielding driver before he can react-after all, the special forces are not for nothing-but he is not sure what more dangerous trick Mo Niang will have after doing so (given the small Jim always likes to "make you into a shoe" (threat), so the hero (don't suffer the immediate loss) and Junjie (the one who knows the current affairs) got into the car in a row.

Then he covered his nose with a handkerchief coated with anesthesia, and felt a slight pain in his arm, as if he had been stabbed with a needle.

When Watson regained consciousness, he could smell the chlorine water.Sports center swimming pool, bombs under coats, earphones stuffed into ears.

"You know the rules, little pet John, repeat my words honestly, otherwise, you will never be able to update your blog again, and I will feel very sorry!"

Gentle, sweet, high-pitched, bleak, with a varied Irish accent, it would be a pity not to sing opera, and he will surely earn Dr. Lecter's high praise.Watson complained heartlessly.

Then, this soft and changeable voice instructed him to walk to the swimming pool.

The clear and transparent pool water is sparkling, like a huge trembling jelly, like the glassy emerald of ice, like the reflection of Sherlock's cat's eyes from a certain angle.

The energy-saving lamps above the head spread circles of ripple-like light on the trembling pool surface.

He saw Sherlock arrive by the pool in his three-piece suit.

He saw Sherlock looking around in circles with his hands behind his back.

He saw Sherlock holding the memory stick they got back together with his thumb and index finger, and said to the invisible bomber, "I brought you a greeting gift"...

The instructions in the earphones activated like a death call, and Watson had to step out from the red and blue curtains, with his hands stuck in the gray-green coat, which was the same color as Sherlock's armchair.

"Good evening." Watson couldn't control the rapid blinking of his eyelids, as if a flying insect had flew into his eyes and he was trying in vain to get it out.

"It's exciting, isn't it, Sherlock?"

Sherlock's back was turned to him, his long, graceful neck twisted back in an unimaginably vulnerable position, his right hand holding the memory stick still dangling in the air.

Watson's throat was stuck, and he swallowed with all his might.

"I bet you didn't expect this."

Watson knew that, thanks to little Jim's pursuit of drama, he gave the impression at this time that he was the mastermind behind the scenes.In the swimming pool where there was not enough light, he clearly caught Sherlock's gaze - it was not anger, but injury.His figure was terribly forlorn, and his height of six feet did not make him look like a small, abandoned child.

At this moment, Watson knew that he was valued.Sherlock Holmes really takes his relationship with John Watson seriously.He really valued it, even though he himself didn't want to.

So, Watson opened his coat, fully exposing the bomb wrapped in wires in front of Sherlock.

The expression in those cat eyes became so sharp and frantic.

Sherlock was furious, a fury Watson had never seen before.His light footsteps are like a predatory beast that haunts the night, and it happens that someone of the same kind violates the bottom line and invades his territory... The anger did not burn out Sherlock's hard drive, on the contrary, he was calmer, more alert and ruthless than usual, Like a blazing cold fire.

This is not the genius detective known to Londoners and Scottish establishments to stay out of the way at all times.

He's gotten too involved.

When Moriarty finally made his belated appearance and put his small body wrapped in a Westwood suit in full view, Watson almost thought that Sherlock would pounce on him like a cheetah and tear him to pieces without hesitation. ...In fact, the consulting detective still firmly controls the most subtle activities of muscle cells and brain cells, and just said coldly: "Gay." (gay)

That's right, this guy in front of him basically has nothing to do with a "professor".Look at that youthful and energetic appearance, look at that fair little round face, those big eyes that roll around, that exaggerated little expression, that slim and slim body, that pretty little facial features, that evil spirit The lewd smile, the voice that challenged the world's top coloratura soprano... Dear little Jim, do you still dare to pretend to be gay to confuse Sherlock?People all over the world have seen through that you are gay!

"Do you like this small, successful performance, Sherlock? I did it to please you." Little Jim put his hands in his pockets, walking slowly, "Finally we can get rid of that incomprehensible third party, It really makes people look forward to it!"

Watson glanced at the real boss behind the scenes with a pleading expression, trying to beg him not to hurt his poor ears with such an enchanting tone.

"You can talk, Jonnyboy, just talk." Little Jim approached Watson's ear affectionately, so close that he couldn't escape the dotted tie with a gold tie clip and the white handkerchief in his left breast pocket. shape.

Watson shook his head dejectedly, and said sullenly, in a tone infected by Mo Niang: "I have been looking forward to this meeting for a long time, dear little Jim."

"And I'm also looking forward to having such a loyal and touching sweet pet like you." The slender eyebrows were raised high, no matter how you look at it, it looks like *.

"I was going to invite the equally sexy and charming little Bruce to participate in our historic meeting, but he is probably on the way now. If not, I will be quite disappointed." Little Jim shrugged, and his flexible eyebrows also Followed up and down, "Although I enjoy it very much, but you are hindering me, cute little guys."

"We will continue to interfere," Watson interjected impassively.

And Little Jim still has the slippery and undisciplined tone, but those cold, wet, unpredictable eyes clearly hide a lot of murderous intentions behind the calm: "No, you won't."

Then, those provocative but indifferent eyes returned to Sherlock, and he said playfully: "We are the same kind of people, Sherlock, you just took a wrong step on the detour of justice, and now you have to rectify your twisted and weird ways." The value is still there.”

...no...can't complain...

"We are not. I will not let others die because of me." Sherlock held Watson's Browning pistol steadily, and locked on the target with glassy cat eyes.

"Let me remind you, my dear Sherlock, that if you keep getting in my way, more people will die because of you."

"And I'll stop you."

"No, you won't." Little Jim brushed off the non-existing dust on his suit lazily, "If you don't let me go, do you know what will happen to you, Sherlock?"

"Let me guess. Killed by you, some day in the future?"

"It's really uncreative, although it's a fact, of course I will kill you, one day. I don't want to be so fast, I want to save some special programs." The high-pitched tone calmed down, the exaggerated expression disappeared, and the big cold eyes Staring straight at the opponent who was completely at a disadvantage, he said in an almost gentle tone: "No, no, no, if you continue to meddle in your own business, I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you." Death will make you feel as painful as you want to live.)

Sherlock replied indifferently: "According to reliable sources, I have no heart at all."

"But we all know that's not quite right." A knowing smile flashed on his face, and Little Jim shook his head again and again. He squinted his eyes slightly and said, "Your heart is wrapped in explosives, which stand between you and danger."

Before the words were finished, a thick white fog exploded from Watson, quickly enveloped the three people, and then filled the entire swimming pool.A strong arm locked Moriarty's neck, and the other hand controlled his hands, and there was a serious and indifferent order in his ear: "Your snipers dare not shoot, dear Jim, unless they want to At the risk of accidentally killing the master. Let us leave safely, and make sure you don't bother us again, otherwise I will immediately cripple your hands and feet, now."

The author has something to say: so touching!

Puff ha ha ha ha ha...

Ask for collection and sprinkle flowers~

The following is the time to thank: Thanks to [Tiangong Jingye] and [Blue Fish] for throwing the mines~ It means that the landmines of the local tyrants have been received, and the inspiration is constantly being blown out~