[Comprehensive] Jasmine became the queen bee

A bomb shelter, basement, or catacomb.

It's hard to define this place.

Jessica sat leaning against the door, watching Sherlock knock on the wall, and it took three full circles before she realized the seriousness of the problem.

"So you're serious?" She hugged her knees to her chest, still in disbelief, "We really can't get out?"

Sherlock put down the flashlight, glanced at her, walked to the exit and tapped the button relentlessly, "See? It's not working."

Jessica looked at the red round button with a diameter of about 10 centimeters and a plastic texture, and the sense of crisis finally came long overdue.

She looked up and saw that the top of her head was pitch black, with no light at all.According to the feeling when they just came down, they are now four or five meters above the ground, with bare sides, and it seems that there is no possibility of climbing.

"Someone broke the facility, didn't you?" she murmured. "I think we all know who that person is."

"Yes." Sherlock nodded slightly, as if he didn't want to talk more.

Jessica bit her lip and thought for a moment, and finally couldn't help asking: "I mean, Will and Joseph's grandpa, what the hell...?"

She knew that Sherlock had said that they were one, but there were too many unclear points in it.

"Although you didn't know Will very well," she slowly recalled, "because of...the case, you also have a close relationship, so I have to say..."

It had to be said that she had thought he and Will were getting along just fine until Sherlock came with a team of policemen to arrest them.

"Anyway, if I'm not mistaken, you started seeing Lecter as soon as you moved to Cheshire, didn't you? Then..." she asked tentatively, "You didn't recognize him? How is that possible?"

Sherlock stopped what he was doing and asked, "What does Will look like?".

"Well, gray hair, light eyes, high cheekbones..."

"Where I remember him as a lean, black-eyed guy, it was a different person."

"Why is that?" Jessica asked blankly.

Sherlock looked a little frustrated, he was silent for a while before saying: "Joseph used hypnosis to 'modify' Margaret's memory, making her think that she was violated by a person with a certain smell, and the reason why I The opportunity to discover this was that she had an unusual period of coma at that time. After this coma, she behaved insanely and paranoidly.

"And all the pictures I had at Dr. Lecter's place existed in my mind in the form of fragments. At first I thought it was a treatment method, but in fact, it was indeed a treatment method.

"By tampering with memory, passivating pain."

Jessica couldn't help shaking.

"I recovered so quickly, it was like nothing had happened. Even now, the devastating shock that I received at that time feels strange. Simply put, they are still clearly in my mind. , but the feelings associated with it are gone.

"At the same time, Will's appearance is also confused."

Sherlock nodded, ended the topic, and continued to study the button instead.

Jessica curled up against the wall, watching his back.

"That's..." She hesitated for a moment, "What does that feel like?"

"What feeling?" Sherlock looked at her patiently, but she was keenly aware of his unusual emotional fluctuations.

"When you find out," Jessica said with deliberation, "that what you rely on the most, or what represents your existence the most—memory, is manipulated by others, what does it feel like?"

Sherlock didn't speak for a moment.Jessica went on to explain: "Isn't the reason why I am me because my past is superimposed to form the current me? If the memory can be modified at will, doesn't it mean that the current me, or you, Or anyone whose existence is..."

She couldn't think of a suitable word for a while, "False?"

"No," Sherlock said with his back turned to her, his deep voice echoed in this dark space, "I exist because I exist. I do rely on my memory a lot, as does anyone, but it can't change the world , cannot change me."

Jessica froze for a moment, then felt a little puzzled.

"Sherlock," she thought for a moment and decided to be direct, "I think this 'game of being more mature' should be over."

"What?" Sherlock's astonished expression lasted only for a moment, and then Jessica's entire retina was occupied by the direct beam of light.

She covered her eyes and saw the dazzling light move away from her fingers before she put her hands down.

"Sorry," he said, pointing the flashlight properly at the floor, which obscured both faces in the darkness.

Unable to see the other person's face, various emotions in Jessica's heart arose.

"I mean," she said, "I know you're precocious, but trying to prove your maturity all the time is immature, isn't it?"

The person on the other side of the beam of light was silent for a while, "It's fair for you to say that."

This rare affirmation made Jessica more courageous, and she poured out her own thoughts, "And I was only concerned about you just now, because it must be hard to know that what I have been convinced for a long time is false, such as ..."

For example, when she woke up for the first time after her death and saw a complete stranger in the mirror, it would not be an exaggeration to describe it as a catastrophe.

"Like me," she said out of nowhere, "the reason why I am me and not someone else..."

She suddenly realized that from her point of view, it was a bit strange to say that.

"I mean, the reason I'm not anybody in the world is because I'm a...mixed person? My memory is mixed, made up of different parts that work together to make who I am now."

She concludes with a shrug, "I can't believe I'd have an identity if my memory wasn't trustworthy."

Sherlock remained silent.The beam of the flashlight hit the ground and separated them perfectly, as if they were separated by a hundred light-years.

"It seems that I scare you again," Jessica laughed at herself, "You don't have to force it, everyone will have fear, it's normal."

"I exist because I am me," Sherlock said, motionless in the darkness, "You exist because you are you and no one else."

The stubbornness in his tone was about to overflow.

"I do fear," he said, "not because of this unbelievable...experience. I don't think I've ever claimed to be a materialist. All I care about is facts, so I'm not going to be a fan of any faction." So. So you are soul transfer or other witchcraft, I don't care, I..."

"Wait," Jessica couldn't help interrupting him, "You are the last person in the world who has no right to say you don't care, after all..."

After all, he used to dodge and run away.

"I really don't care about this," Sherlock's tone was a little excited, and the light beams on the ground danced wildly, "What I care about is..."

"What?" Jessica raised her voice and overwhelmed him, "Yes, you don't care about the collapse of the world view! You don't care about this supernatural...event. Who is avoiding me like the plague?"

"I really don't care," Sherlock said in a low voice as his chest rose and fell dramatically, "Why should I care?"

"You're lying." Jessica said coldly.

There was a suffocating silence between them.

Jessica buried her face in her arms, but her ears were filled with the sound of the man's breathing.

"Well, I do care." Sherlock spit out a few words in a low tone as if showing weakness.

Jessica sneered uncontrollably, and said meanly, "Don't tell me it's because of your 'bad' childhood history."

If she meant it as an inappropriate joke, Sherlock's weird reaction was unexpected.

"Of course...uh, no..." he said stiffly, with a strong embarrassment at the end.

"Oh no," Jessica exclaimed looking up, covering her mouth in surprise, "God, are you really...?"

She wished she could rush up and observe Sherlock's expression carefully, "Oh my God, how is this possible..."

But before she could move, there was an abnormal noise from above.

"I'm sorry to bother you," a familiar voice came in abruptly, "but I think you're getting off topic."