It's a miserable white world.

Or rather, a strange white living room.

It looked larger than the place where Sherlock lived at this time, with closed doors on each side, no furniture, only a tea table, a kitchen on one side, and a few chairs.

That's all......

At this time, Sherlock was standing in this white space, like an alien who did not belong to this world suddenly broke in.

For He alone has color.

He is the only one who can move.

As for everything else, it was as if it had been welded into this strange white space, and even some extremely fine cobwebs in the corners of the walls could not be touched in the slightest, let alone destroyed.

Sherlock didn't know what it was, and he didn't know why he was here, but since he was very young, every time he fell asleep, he would wake up in this white room, and this lasted for nearly 30 years.

What made him even more depressed was that he was trapped in this small room...... The door wouldn't open, he couldn't get out, the sound couldn't pass through the walls and windows, and maybe even the light couldn't get out of the room, because when he looked out the window, he couldn't see anything, but his sight hit the glass of the window, and then it was inexorably reflected back into his pupils.

Closed, dead and silent, with no way out......

Fortunately, in this white room, you won't feel hungry, you won't be sleepy, and even after waking up, you will feel that you have a good quality of sleep.

After consulting a lot of information, he still had no way to know what was going on, so he could only be very helpless, just stay, unwillingly, and put it all down to a strange and persistent dream.

But detectives have a more or less intuition, and Sherlock can feel that this strange dream is definitely more than what it seems.

Someday, it will change to another place.

But I don't know what that change will be, and I don't know when that day will come.

......

After yawning, Sherlock sat down in a chair and began to think, as usual.

First, the first question...... The Scarlet YES

Why write this word?

At its simplest, the killer felt that the word had some meaning to him.

But under what circumstances does YES have a special meaning? So much so that the murderer wanted to engrave it on the corpse...... And what does the murderer want to express?

The Holy See forbade the release of all information about the families of the clergy, so Sherlock knew very little about the beautiful deceased, and it was more or less difficult to solve the case with just one corpse.

But he didn't panic, just sat quietly, thinking lazily.

After I don't know how long it was;

Suddenly, a soft sound broke the silence of Baker Street.

......

In reality, Sherlock opened his eyes.

He glanced slightly sideways at the clock on the wall, three o'clock in the morning.

I slept for an hour......

Immediately, he moved his gaze to the door of the room.

"Knock~Knock~Knock~"

The knock on the door rang again.

The night was silent as if it had long since died.

"Knock Knock Knock ~ Knock Knock ~"

......

Who will be out there?

A person like Sherlock, who undoubtedly has no friends, will not come to visit in the early hours of the morning, and even if he does visit in the early morning, he will definitely not knock politely on the door, but simply kick the door open.

Things gather like like, and most of the people who can become friends with him are not quality guys.

At the same time, you can't expect a corrosive dog to knock politely on the door before nibbling on your Celestial Cover.

So...... Could it be a client in trouble?

It is very likely that the private detectives in these years will do everything, from helping people chase murderers and seek revenge, and going down to the streets and alleys to find cats and dogs, anyway, as long as they give money.

"Wait a minute."

Sherlock got up, straightened his crumpled clothes, and made sure there wasn't much blood left on them, and went to the door to open it.

"Squeak ————"

The night breeze passed through the narrow staircase and into the hut through the crack in the newly opened door, bringing some coldness, and Sherlock looked at the tall silhouette outside the door with some surprise, and hesitated for a moment:

"Lord Badr, why are you here?"

It was still an expressionless and indifferent face, and it was still that kind of oppressive silence, and a deacon of the Adjudication Division was standing outside the door of a detective agency in the lower city, looking particularly strange.

For some reason, he seemed to be even bigger than he had been a few hours ago, and his muscular body and wide robes made his cross-section so exaggerated that it almost covered the entire aisle.

"You ———" Badr said, looking Sherlock in the eye, "Need help." ”

"Help?" Sherlock was stunned.

Then, as if realizing that it was a bit rude and a little weird to have a clergyman of the church standing in the doorway in the middle of the night, he stepped aside and made a 'please come in' gesture.

Badr bowed his head slightly, afraid of touching the door frame, and walked into Sherlock's apartment.

As a deacon, he certainly did not have the slightest financial concern, and the accommodation provided by the Holy See for the clergy must be worse than that of the nobles, and comfortable, spacious, and dignified were the basic conditions.

So this cheap apartment must be cramped and cramped for him.

Fortunately, Deacon Badr did not show any discomfort, and sat directly on another dilapidated sofa near the bookshelf like a machine without a concept of enjoyment, looking at the sofa where Sherlock often sits, like a client who has been defeated by the hard life of life.

"I love Karin." He said slowly, "I hope you can find the murderer as quickly as possible." ”

Sherlock glanced at the blood-red notice on the other party's chest, and did not bow his head in a reverent and humble manner as the other civilians did when they saw the clergy of the Holy See...... He just sat on his exclusive red leather seat, and he habitually touched his fingertips.

Perhaps detectives have such an inertia of thinking, that is, as long as they walk into their own office, then even if the other party is a judge deacon, he is still a customer, a poor person who is in trouble and needs help.

"You should know that it's going to be tough enough to get it done in the scheduled time......" he said.

"That's what I'm here for...... You need help. "The information of the families of the clergy of the Holy See is kept confidential for their safety, but now, the release of Karin's information should allow the case to proceed more quickly. ”

His tone still didn't fluctuate, but Sherlock seemed to be able to see sadness and unwillingness under that shell, and the hidden deep emotions were constantly pouring and boiling.

This is what a bereaved wife should be.