"Tell me?" Sherlock ignored Watson's teasing.

The latter stroked the hair on his forehead, and his expression was a little complaining: "You really don't know how to be considerate..... Aren't you going to thank me first? I just invited you to a drink, and when I encountered this kind of thing, I have to interrogate you...... Do you know how mentally draining it is to interrogate someone? ”

"I don't think you can do it at all." Sherlock looked blank: "Look at your flushed face!" ”

"Really...... Well, then let's not pretend for now. Watson was debunked, but he didn't care in the slightest, and continued: "He did tell you your name to a man ————named Theodore Sloan. ”

"Who's that?"

"A pope, subordinate church area in Cleveland, more than 700 kilometers from London."

When he heard the word Pope, Sherlock couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"And the gentleman in the room just said that in about a month, His Excellency Pope Theodore will be in London." Watson continued, and then something suddenly occurred to him: "Wait a minute, a pope is leaving his diocese and coming to London?" That's not normal, isn't it...... Is the day of love really coming? ”

Sherlock, of course, didn't care about the day of Divine Love, he had no respect or worship for the Son or the Holy Maiden, who stood at the top of the power of the Holy See, and he didn't expect anything to happen to him unless they died and let themselves investigate the case.

"But a Pope, it stands to reason that he shouldn't care about me as a civilian." Sherlock said like no one else.

"That's not necessarily, in the quiz game just now, the gentleman said that Deacon Badr and Pope Theodore have both been trained on the battlefield, although it is only a short period of three years, but the troops they belong to are the vanguard of the Holy Church, that is, under the command of General [Patton].

And as far as I know, the people who came out of General Patton's command all had one thing in common, and that was ...... Extreme short-term protection. ”

Speaking of this, Watson's expression also became a little stunned, as if he was recalling the good old days of bloody fighting along the shores of the Redk Strait.

Sherlock leisurely lit a cigarette: "I see, the feelings cultivated in the army are indeed extraordinary, after all, they are friends who have eaten the last meal but not the next." ”

"So what to do, you're dead...... Hey, I finally met a friend I could talk to. Watson's words were sad, but his tone was not at all, even a little ...... I want to see a lively little expectation.

Sherlock didn't bother to pay attention to him: "Don't worry, everyone has done the position of the Pope, and he is definitely not a fool, Deacon Badr has violated the laws of the Holy See and is bound to die, even if the other party is a bishop, or even a red-robed bishop, it is impossible to ignore the Holy See and blatantly come to hunt me down." ”

"But people just get rid of you, and no one cares about you as a civilian?"

"I know two clergy who could easily bring this to the table."

"You know the clergy?!" Watson was a little surprised, but he nodded slightly when he remembered that the detective's job recommendation letter was written by a high priest himself.

"Hehe, you are indeed an interesting person, and it is not so easy for civilians to get to know the clergy."

"You're also quite interesting, it's not easy for a civilian to become a medic in the Holy Cult Army, and it's strange to think about it when you think about it to retire intact at such a young age, and suffer from such a serious post-war emergency syndrome." Sherlock said, puffing out a puff of smoke.

During this time, he noticed Watson's smiling expression as if engraved on his face, his eyes slightly open, and a pair of cold eyes staring at him were hidden inside!

But he didn't care at all.

"Okay, you didn't ask me about my past, I naturally won't dig up your secrets, I'm going back, the place I just rented, if I often don't return at night, I will be treated as a strange person by the landlord, and it won't be good to kick me out of the apartment when the time comes." Sherlock said with a wave of his hand.

"Do you need me to send you?"

"Of course not......"

With that, he put on his long trench coat and left Watson's house.

......

Sherlock is gone.

Watson came to the window, stood quietly, looked through the glass as the detective gentleman, who had only seen two sides but gave him a very different feeling, walked out of the apartment building, then stood on the side of the long street and smoked another cigarette, and waited for a full fifteen minutes before finally getting into a carriage and slowly disappearing into the London night.

He meditated out the window, not knowing what he was thinking.

Suddenly, he found himself in good spirits...... Although I drank a lot of alcohol tonight, I didn't feel sleepy at all.

Maybe he really found some kind of expectation in this boring life.

Watson became happier and happier, and the laughter echoed lonely in a man's apartment, sounding a little seething.

Oh, no, there was not a man in the apartment, on the other side of a small door, there was a poor fellow tied to the operating table, who was lying flat at the moment, a pot of boiling hot oil hung above his face, and through the scale funnel, drop by drop, drip at an even speed on his eyeball, which was the only one left, but which had been stripped off of his eyelids, and the screams were probably long since out of the realm of man, and turned into a miserable hiss like a dying beast, and with each wail, his limbs, internal organs, and the blood-groomed skin, which had been completely open, and the nerves and muscles that were exposed to the air were spasming in pain.

A pair of visible life is worse than death.

But what is even more tragic is that no one cares about him, the door is closed, his miserable voice cannot be heard outside at all, and he does not know when he will die.

Continue, continue......

And the doctor, who seemed harmless to humans and animals, but had the most cruel methods, was now putting on his coat, picking a bottle of wine from the wine rack that did not look cheap, pushing open the door of the apartment, and walking out.

......

Watson couldn't sleep, so he grabbed a bottle of wine, went downstairs to his apartment, walked through the quiet streets, turned down a deep alley, and finally came to a scrapped steam boiler piled up in a corner.

He knocked on the door......

Well, yes, there was a door in this boiler, which was actually a piece of wood tied to the coal filling port of the boiler with iron wire, but the old man with a disability insisted on calling it a 'door'.

I guess so, it can make him feel like he has a 'home'.

Soon......

"Who!" An extremely impatient, even angry voice came out.

"It's me." Watson said softly.

"Get out!" The voice shouted angrily.

"I brought a ...... of wine"

There was silence for a while, and there were several sounds of wine bottles being knocked over inside the door, and then the wooden door was pushed open, and an old man in coarse cloth clothes from 60 years old was sitting inside the door, with a flattering smile on his face.

"Yo, it's Watson, I didn't hear it just now, please come in ......"