The next day, Hanilton Street in London was crowded with people!

Sherlock never imagined that such a word with obvious exaggerated embellishments would one day be truly displayed before his eyes, and that Miss Nightingale's influence could not include only her heroic deeds and her ability to heal diseases. It's quite embarrassing to say, according to statistics, there are more healthy people who want to see her than patients.

As a result, every time she announced her city, a large number of people would go to the area, huddled with countless patients, trying to get by, just to meet the most beautiful person in the world.

Therefore, every time before she starts treatment, she needs to send a large number of people from the local medical institution to screen them, after all, Miss Nightingale is also a human being, and she can also be tired, so she wants to try to use her energy on those who need treatment the most.

Of course, even then, she would never be able to wipe out the entire city of patients, but this was the best she could.

Hannerton Street is six blocks away from the London Medical Association, and the crowds are already lining up here, all the vehicles are detoured, a large number of screeners are set up at every nearby interface, and all those who are pretending to be sick, those with mild symptoms, those who can persevere, those whose families can afford medical expenses, etc., etc., are all sent home.

If someone is found to have dared to harm themselves in order to see Miss Nightingale, they will be immediately dragged away by a nearby nurse, and while ensuring that they receive treatment, they will also be punished by imprisonment, fines, etc., and if they are found to have passed the screening and secretly sold places, they will also be directly sanctioned by the local police.

In short, it was very strict, and by the time Sherlock got to the first screening gate, it was already more than an hour later, and the screener just glanced at him and put on a suspicious look.

"Are you sick?"

"Yes, I'm very sick, and I suspect I'm going to die." Sherlock replied solemnly.

The person in the window was even more suspicious, and his expression revealed a hint of disdain: "Terminally ill? Or is it injured? Where's the injury? ”

Sherlock took a deep breath: "I know I don't look like I'm sick, but I'm really seriously injured, I may suddenly appear in a state of collapse at a certain moment, and I'm in a lot of pain right now, if it's an ordinary person, I guess I can't stand up, I have been standing in line for so long with my own willpower, so. Can you let me go? ”

The person in the window slapped the table extremely unpleasantly: "Today I met a total of 211 people who want to blend in, you are the most distracted of them, so you should also get some bandages on your body, and then get some blood to sprinkle on it." ”

"It's not like I haven't thought about the way you said, but I didn't prepare in a hurry, and can I really get through that way?"

"Of course not!" The man said angrily, and then with a snort, he called two nurses and lifted Sherlock out of the crowd.

At the top of the staircase at the corner of a block, Sherlock finally found a place to sit, and he felt depressed as he watched the thinning sunlight and the unabated crowd.

Of course, he knows that he is telling the truth, but human beings do not have empathy, so whether it is the truth or not needs to be said by others.

These days, he is always in the pain of physical collapse, and he also helped his son escape from marriage by the way, and all kinds of things make it almost difficult for his brain to enter the state of thinking, so he didn't even notice that Nightingale had come to London, and he didn't have time to make a few cuts on his body, and then the wound was old, so as to get the opportunity to pass the examination.

In fact, it can't be said that he didn't expect that when he came just now, he was going to use the fire in the fireplace to roast his arm shallowly, so that with such a large area of burns, there is a chance that he will be treated by Miss Nightingale.

But Sherlock didn't dare. Because he didn't know what his current physical condition was like, if he got some injuries and suddenly destroyed a certain balance between 'health' and 'Honkai', causing him to die in one fell swoop, just like the executive who had forgotten his name a long time ago, it would be too embarrassing.

Just as he was thinking about it, Sherlock suddenly saw a phone booth on the other side of the crowd.

He seemed to have thought of something, and got up and walked in.

After throwing in a penny, he dialed a phone number.

"Hello, is this the Cathedral of Oaklando? I'm looking for His Highness the Son. ”

"That's not a personal name, it's His Highness the Son, His Highness the Holy Son of the Holy See, if you have to ask the name, it's Moriarty."

"I'm not kidding, don't be in a hurry to scold me, I'm not disrespectful to the Holy Light!"

"Didn't you just finish the ceremony on the Day of Divine Love a few days ago, why didn't you know that His Highness the Holy Son lived in your backyard?"

"It's a secret, go find him quickly, just go and knock on the door in that little villa in your backyard garden, and say that a man named Sherlock is in a hurry to find him."

"Okay, well, whether it's a priest or someone, if you want to ask for instructions, go quickly, hurry up."

Sherlock leaned weakly against the phone, and after a while, finally, a call was turned off, and then Moran's voice came from the microphone, and she was a little surprised to hear that it was Sherlock, but she hurried to call her master.

finally

"Hey." Moriarty's voice sounded, he hadn't seen it for a few days, his voice seemed to be very tired, and he could feel that he must have been busy with something very important these days.

"Hey, I just found out I didn't have the phone number for your residence, so I asked someone from the church to transfer it." Sherlock said smugly, "I'll just have something to say, I feel like I'm dying." ”

"What?!" A confused voice rang on the other end of the phone.

"It's complicated to say, you're just a mortal, and you can't establish any connection with hell, and you can't become a contractor if you abolish the boss, so you can't understand what I told you."

“.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and then a cold voice rang out: "If you just want to provoke me, then you won't succeed!" ”

"I'm not you off, I'm just telling the truth, anyway, I'm in very poor health right now, almost on the verge of death, but you should know that Miss Nightingale happened to be in London at this time, so I think."

"You want her to help you with your alleged injuries?"

"yes, I don't want to die." Sherlock said, "Aren't you the Holy Son of the Holy See, I think you may have some way, right?" ”

"Humph!" Moriarty snorted coldly: "Who are you Miss Nightingale?" She is one of the few beings who can ignore the majesty of the Holy See, her personal influence is enough to make her independent of the Holy See and the system of government, and no one in this world can ask her to do anything she does not want to do. ”

"Including you?"

"Not me, of course!" Moriarty seemed to have finally won the city, and there was a certain pride in his voice: "I used to do her a favor, so I think she should give me a face, of course, I have to come forward myself, otherwise it will look disrespectful to her." ”

"Uh, you mean, you're coming to me? And then take me to see Miss Nightingale in person? ”

"Of course, if I don't go, you think you're a third-rate detective in the lower city and still renting a house; A guy who has a name in the most basic security administration of the Holy See, an obscure citizen who has no connections! Can you be qualified to meet Miss Nightingale? In addition to being a contractor, what advantages do you have? Oh, you're still level one."

"Why do I think you're still angry?!"

"I didn't!!" The voice on the other end of the phone suppressed: "Tell me your location, I'll go find you!" ”

And just like that, after Sherlock had named a location, the call hung up.

Half an hour later.

Under a street lamp on the side of the street.

Sherlock was smoking a cigarette when an inconspicuous-looking carriage came to a quiet stop in front of him.

He got into the car, and then sat down opposite Moriarty, and Moran had no choice but to sit next to Moriarty, because she was taller than Moriarty, so it seemed strange to sit together, and the maiden servant seemed to be a little cautious, with his hands between his knees, and did not dare to approach His Highness the Son.

Sherlock doesn't know much about love, but he must have noticed Moran's state these days, and now he saw her twisting appearance again, and couldn't help asking:

"You two?"

"Master-servant relationship!"

The two of them said in unison.

"Okay." Sherlock nodded, indicating that he believed it.

The carriage began to move quickly, the axles and beams had been modified so that it did not feel the slightest jolt, the seats looked unremarkable, but the comfort was excellent, and all the materials were of extremely expensive varieties, and it must have taken a lot of extra effort to make it look less expensive.

Sherlock could only sigh that he really didn't understand the world of rich people

The carriage passed through the crowd and came to an exclusive passage where the flow of people was relatively small, and only the staff could enter and exit, and the coachman didn't know how to operate it, in short, all the people who came forward to check immediately gave up their positions, and the road was unimpeded, Sherlock occasionally looked out the window, and looked at a certain security officer, and could see a moment of panic and extreme respect in the eyes of the other party.

"I have to say that if the status is high enough, it can bring great convenience to people."

"At the same time, there is a great deal of responsibility." Moriarty said lightly.

Soon, the carriage finally stopped at a side door next to the main building of the London Medical Association, and an old man with gray hair of about 60 years old was already standing at the door, and when he saw the carriage approaching, he immediately assumed the most humble posture, bent his waist, and trotted to the carriage.

Sherlock pushed the door open and walked down.

"Greetings to His Highness the Son." The old man's body bent down a little more, and his tone was trembling and panic that was not easy to hide: "I am the president of the London Medical Association, and I am waiting for you here."

"Ah, I'm not the Holy Son, the guy you're going to greet is behind."

"Huh?!"

The president was startled, and before he could react too much to what the other party meant, Moriarty stepped out of the carriage, compared to Sherlock, his expression was not that arrogant, but a calm and kind smile: "The old man doesn't need to care too much about etiquette, I'm just here to see a friend." ”

"Of course, of course" The president recognized the wrong person, and looked even more panicked, but he did not dare to disobey the will of His Royal Highness the Holy Son, so he had to let go of his body: "Miss Nightingale is already waiting for you, please come with me." ”

In this way, the three of them followed the president to the building.

Maybe the old man himself has some problems with trembling, maybe he is indeed a little excited or frightened after seeing His Royal Highness the Holy Son, anyway, the distance of these few steps, his loose pants can't hide the trembling of his legs, and a lot of sweat oozes from his back.

Sherlock frowned slightly.

The president of an association at the level of a big city, how to say that he should have seen some of the world, is it a little too nervous for this old man?

And the moment he stepped into the building, the old man suddenly raised his head and looked at the sky for some reason.

The wind was cold at night, the noise in the distance continued, and there were naturally no meteors in the sky, so Sherlock didn't know why he was looking overhead.

Anyway, several people followed him into the building, and through several long and short corridors, they finally came to a single lounge.

"Adults, Miss Nightingale is inside." The president bowed slightly and said, "Then, I won't bother a few." ”

"I'm sorry for you." His Highness replied with a smile.

As if relieved at last, the president finally performed a courtesy of respect in the Holy See, and then left.

Moriarty walked over to the door and knocked lightly.

In the process, Sherlock subconsciously looked at the sky outside the window, through the window, and through the dark night, falling into the clouds thousands of meters away.

In this foggy city where the moonlight is thin to the limit, the light at night comes almost entirely from gas lamps, and the brightness of gas lamps naturally cannot reach the sky.

In other words, the dark clouds are like the most natural protective color, obscuring everything above them.

"As the Holy Son, are there many people who want to kill you?" Suddenly, Sherlock asked.

Moriarty frowned, "Of course, but I'm still alive." ”

His words were full of confidence, and subconsciously, he looked at Moran beside him, and the maiden servant also responded with an unadulterated smile, which seemed to be able to give her master such a sense of security as a maid, and also make her life meaningful.

"Why do you ask this all of a sudden?" Moriarty Road,

It was at this time that two things happened.

One of them:

There was a nice voice from behind the door

"Here we go."

Then the doorknob slowly turned

Second:

In the dull dark clouds, a zeppelin painted black slowly revealed its head

And then!

It's the second one!!

The third !!!

Until the fifth.

The black press, above the sky, fell down towards London!

(Today is a day of 6400 words, everyone votes, needless to say I'm short, because I can't see. Hey hey~)

(End of chapter)