Sherlock walked towards the room on the second floor and opened the door with the key in his hand.

The familiar dim sunlight peeked out of the crack in the door in a familiar way, and then the familiar sound of the doorshaft grinding, and everything seemed so natural.

Sherlock walked in and found that nothing had changed much, except for the lack of luggage and clothes, which seemed a little chilly because he hadn't lived in a while.

But it doesn't matter.

He had just spurted a lot of blood and looked a little weak, so he slowly walked over to the large red patent leather sofa chair and smashed his ass on it in a 'free fall' manner. There is also some rebound.

Feeling the familiar curve and the soft touch just right, at this moment, Sherlock finally admitted that he was a nostalgic person.

In this way, he scurried down, letting himself sink into the sofa, I don't know if it was due to excessive blood loss or sleepiness, anyway, he fell asleep with the drowsiness in his head

In the middle of hell, he woke up.

Because the last time I fought with that huge black giant, most of the tentacles were torn apart, although these little guys can slowly gather together again, but it will take time after all, so now after waking up, there are no tentacles coming over to rub their trouser legs for their lives, Sherlock still feels quite worry-free.

Walking out of the room, the black carriage had slowly driven to the door as if it had been summoned by itself, waiting as quietly as ever.

He got into the carriage and quickly skimmed through the long streets of Hell, and soon came to the place where the body of the black giant was.

Forehead. That's right, this black giant is already a corpse at this moment.

Ever since Sherlock last called that . Call. Forget it, he forgot what the name of the executive officer of the adjudication division was.

In short, he used almost all his strength in hell to occupy the dark giant that night.

Naturally, the way of occupying it is to use tentacles to replace the opponent's brain, and then extend the tentacles to every inch of its body, just like when occupying the corrosive dog. The day after that, he manipulated the black giant to chew up its original contract owner.

In fact, everything is very ordinary, and there should be nothing to say.

But just after that, two strange things happened.

One of them is that after occupying the dark giant, his tentacles seem to have suddenly changed his mind for some unknown reason.

They don't want to continue to occupy each other, but gradually start to gravitate towards it. Absorb!

Yes, absorption, just like absorbing the eye-gouging demon.

Countless silky tentacles poked out from all directions, and then burrowed into the black giant's body, because these filaments were too many, too dense, almost wrapped the corpse into a solid, radial cocoon, each filament was constantly sucking, all the time, day and night.

But this giant is too big, and the composition of its body is obviously much higher than that of the gouging demon, so this time the absorption is very slow, and it has not been finished for so many days, and I don't know how long it will last

As for the second thing, there is something wrong with Sherlock's body.

In the last battle with the executive, his injuries were so severe that he kept vomiting blood and sweating.

But at the same time, he could clearly feel that he had reached an unprecedented limit. As Moran said, he touched the threshold of the second stage.

So, he was excited, and this excitement affected his body to some extent, whether it was willpower, reactions, speed, all kinds of senses, in short, it was an inexplicable new experience.

However, after the battle, I was hospitalized, recuperated, recovered, and gradually adapted to the excitement and all the changes in my body.

But after all of this. Sherlock found that his injuries were still not healed.

It can't even be said that there is no 'good', but that it has fallen into some more bizarre state.

Obviously, all the tests said that he was cured, and the entire medical system of the hospital said that Sherlock was a very healthy person, but he was still in a state of injury.

From time to time, he would vomit blood, suffer from the pain of his internal organs, a moment of trance in his brain, and fatigue and itching from the deepest part of his muscles, as well as constant tearing and healing.

He seems to be caught between health and near-death, and he can't explain this phenomenon, but with his keen sense of being a detective for many years, he feels that he must be stuck.

It's stuck on the line of going from the first stage to the second stage.

It was precisely because of this situation that he went to consult Moran yesterday.

When it comes to Moran, Sherlock doesn't know what happened to this girl these days, and her usually cold face is always filled with a faint strange smile, and when she talks to herself, she slips from time to time, and even laughs suddenly.

Forget it, it doesn't matter.

And Moran was a little confused after listening to Sherlock's story, because she had never seen a contractor in this state, and in the end, she gave a non-perceptual guess based on her irresponsible nonsense as the most talented group of people in more than two centuries.

That is:

Sherlock's contract creatures are supposed to have reached their limits.

However, Sherlock himself did not reach the limit.

At that time, Sherlock was very helpless, and the reason given by this girl was too distracting, the contractor and the contract creature were in a state of symbiosis, how could there be a reason that one party reached the limit and the other party did not.

Moreover, even if it doesn't reach the limit, it should be that the contract demon hasn't reached the limit, right?

Could it be that the limit of his own body, a mortal fetus with stomach acid after drinking too much coffee, is higher than those tentacles in hell who see what they eat and devour?

Of course, Moran knew that this reason was far-fetched, but she really couldn't think of any other way to explain it, and in the end, Sherlock could only choose to leave stupidly, and he couldn't beat her.

Time passed little by little, and Sherlock was still in a daze in hell watching the black giant that had been absorbed little by little.

Suddenly, a noise woke him up from his dream.

In reality, Sherlock opened his eyes, then walked to the window and looked out.

Immediately he saw a long procession passing through the streets

Ah, no, it doesn't seem to be a procession, for each of them was extremely reverent and adoring, shouting Nightingale's name and holding a sign with a portrait of the beautiful maiden.

Sherlock then remembered that the girl who had traveled through the empire seemed to have arrived in London.

Not long after, in the midst of the celebration procession, a person with a loudspeaker began to publicize.

It can be seen that this man has some kind of overly enthusiastic gratitude and adoration for His Excellency Nightingale, so 80% of his words are praises for him.

Putting aside these compliments, the remaining useful information is that ——— Lord Nightingale will give a grand blessing of 750 people tomorrow afternoon, and all those who feel sick and are about to burp will hurry to the gates of the London Medical Association to report.

(End of chapter)