[Comprehensive Yingmei] Genius Lianmeng

Chapter 35 Grumpy Curly Fortune

When Alfred appeared at the door of 221B, politely and kindly invited the group of members of the research center who were meeting to move to 221C to prepare dinner together, Watson thought, "IQ is a few dimensions away from me, and my high IQ is not reasoning correctly." With the inexplicable joy of knowing the truth of what happened, I marched towards 221C in the rhythm of the march.

Sherlock didn't rush down the stairs at the same pace as before, but walked silently beside the cohabitant - it was really difficult and miserable to accommodate two big men walking side by side on the narrow stairs.

When Mr. Butler was holding a lot of ingredients and sat down against the dining table with his back straight, the boy from the small town finally managed to open his eyes and approached Alfred like a big dog with keen intuition, pitifully looking towards the actual control of 221C The latter tried his best to get close, and his earnest expression made people feel pitiful and heartbreaking.

Those blue eyes that could no longer be hidden behind age-old spectacles (the hot gaze that awakened him burned away, Bruce, Hannibal, and Mr. month old golden retriever puppy.The puppy moved limply and clumsily, staring at Alfred with those innocent eyes that were so cute.

No one can resist the plea of ​​those eyes, especially when they stare straight at you, expressing their desire to be given some work.

So the great, industrious, conscientious, and conscientious behind-the-scenes BOSS Alfred resigned himself to his fate and handed him the onions and carrots.

Even Dr. Lecter can be said to be gentle and kind, giving Clark the tips to handle ingredients, almost teaching him hands-on (who told the little reporter to mix his motor nerves with his superpowers and memory).

The pair of small but unusually strong and powerful hands, with a hand that excised scars, opened the abdomen and back of more than a dozen people, and can paint colors that even God amazed on the dining table and musical instruments at the same time , leading another pair of hands that are more beautiful and strong, which even Michelangelo's David would feel ashamed of, without hair pores and lines, but always manage to get in touch with kitchen utensils, Watson's hand has experienced vicissitudes and hardships There was a momentary arrhythmia in his heart, a creepy feeling rushed straight to his forehead, and the adrenaline was about to break the watch, which forced him to retreat in spite of the difficulties, and there was no second choice except to leave this dangerous 221C quietly. plan can be implemented.

Huh?Bruce Wayne, the head of the family, a billionaire, and an international player who is good at tricking himself to death, actually took a step ahead and carried out the plan that Watson was still brewing in his mind.

It's just that the hem of his suit is billowing with black clouds (there is no sense of disobedience in putting Professor Snape's gloomy face on it), and he looks more like Batman than ever.

Dr. Lecter taught Clark how to handle ingredients and then drove Bruce Wayne away?Watson thinks that too much brain hole is a disease, which needs to be cured.

Mr. Butler shook his head at his restless young master, and continued to concentrate on processing the ingredients.Dr. Lecter played an instrument and made a pot of sauce, saving it to go with the char-grilled tuna.

As for Clark, the two chefs really looked down on his knife skills-according to Clark's way of using a knife, he would either destroy the kitchen knife or his own hand-and were ordered to fight with rice and tap water (washing rice) .

Under Hannibal's knife, an onion quickly turned into fine powder of uniform size.The cream was stir-fried in the butter where the bacon was fried, and then various condiments that Watson could not recognize were put into the pot.

"I think the rice can be put into the pot, Hannibal." Alfred was allowed to use the doctor's Christian name because of his age and status, "Although it almost blocked the kitchen sink, at least Clark washed the rice. "

The last thing that enters the pot is the thick soup that was prepared earlier, and then, the lid of the pot stores all the ingredients and fragrance in a small space, steaming, refining, and transforming.

"The rice has reached the optimum hardness." Dr. Lecter lifted the metal pot lid with the hands of manipulating the strings, keyboard and death, poked the rice grains full of soup, and added the milk and cheese into it. in.

After cooking, freshly ground black pepper is sprinkled on fried rice, every grain of rice is covered with golden oil, onion and diced carrots are shining in white and golden, and the aroma is tangy.

Paired with a piece of char-grilled tuna in a special sauce, Watson felt that his nose and mouth were not enough.

The only thing that is a little off-putting is that Sherlock's nagging complaints-complaining about why crime can't be refurbished like cooking-in front of a group of foodies and two chefs, Watson has a strong feeling The urge to wrestle Sherlock into the bedroom and close the door and beat him up.

"Criminals are as unpredictable as a cold, Sherlock," Watson said with his mouth full like a chipmunk, and his voice was a little indistinct, "you may find yourself at any time."

Sherlock mechanically stuffed a piece of tuna into his mouth—without even dipping in the sauce—and said with a slumped head: "There are no more great crimes, John, and the criminals in London have degenerated to nothing. Self-motivated and creative, they do stupid shit at best, with motives so obvious that even a moron at Scotland Yard can see through them... I don't understand why they don't just end up with their brains like that."

"As long as the idiots have half of their self-knowledge, they have committed suicide long ago. The reason why they can survive until now is all due to their misunderstanding of themselves." Bruce (the aroma of fried rice brought him back to 221C) gracefully lifted the silver pot at hand, Pour the sauce evenly on the well-grilled tuna, "Since you hate crime without IQ, Sherlock, then you must like Gotham. The guys in the prison and the madhouse are more imaginative than one, and they all Anxious to get out of Arkham so we can join up with those who've been hiding out and let Batman pack them all up and throw them back on the big festival day!"

John Teddy Watson turned chipmunk said as he ate: "Sounds... a lot like lost and found."

And his cohabitant made a mocking exclamation in unison: "I envy you, John, your mind is so quiet and dull, barely moving, my brain resists this state! It's like a racing car engine idling, because there is nowhere to focus And tear yourself to pieces!"

"For the people of Great Britain, this is a big day to celebrate." Bruce held the silver spoon in his mouth, the delicate handle gleaming on his full lips, "Alf's craft is getting better and better." He deliberately ignored Thanks to Dr. Lecter - what a vengeful cat.

Sparks fly at the dinner table as the detectives interact.

Suddenly, Sherlock threw away the spoon and complained loudly: "As the most evolved existence on earth, why can't human beings delete all desires and desires and leave only one brain!"

"Thank you for thinking about the guys at Scotland Yard who have been crushed by you, Sherlock." Hua snorted angrily and took his own spoon, scooped a spoonful from Sherlock's plate and stuffed it into the cohabitant's mouth. He closed his mouth, "Now, honestly finish a meal for me, if you keep quiet for 10 minutes, you won't be suffocated!"

"...That's right, if people really only had one brain left, those idiots at Scotland Yard wouldn't need to exist. Their brain capacity is simply negligible." Sherlock was quiet for 10 minutes and cleaned up the fried rice on the plate. Sherlock Holmes Swallowing the last grain of rice, he said sullenly.

"Don't misinterpret my intentions, Sherlock! I mean, if human beings are really stripped of their desires, then their crimes will also disappear..."

"Since creation has given humans reason, why not let us rely on reason to get rid of the influence of desire?" Sherlock suddenly left the chair and raised his voice angrily.

He was like a tormented, restless child.

Watson suddenly thought of his 12-year-old self.

His favorite sister, kissing his favorite girl in the corner of the garden.

Only stubborn children whose values ​​have been severely impacted will be stubborn, anxious, irritable, and restless like Sherlock at this time.

This fragile appearance made Watson involuntarily recall that thrilling swimming pool night.

Moriarty said with an eerie aria: "I will burn your heart." And Sherlock is like a child who is punished to stand, his movements are so at a loss, and his refutation is so pale.

How is it possible that Sherlock Holmes has no heart?He was the best and most humane guy Watson had ever met in his two lifetimes, but his emotions were hidden under the shell of a "high-functioning sociopath", intentionally or unintentionally.

How could it be possible for a heartless person to be so awkward yet so gentle...how could it be possible to kiss him so awkwardly yet so tender...how could it be possible...to kiss him...

Suddenly Watson buried his face in his hands, like an ostrich digging its head into the sand.

...Clark's hot gaze must have leaked out of control, otherwise why would his face be so hot that it would burn?