As time progressed, there were more and more people in the surrounding bars, but Miss Erin's bar has been tepid. After all, the prices here are really not affordable enough.

After a few more minutes, Sherlock finally wiped out the last bit of food on his plate.

In fact, in his opinion, the food here is indeed delicious, and the ingredients are very particular, but he cares too much about taste, and the most important thing about food is to fill his stomach, so from a certain point of view, the steak here is amazingly priced, not as good as Mrs. Hudson's beef soup, and as a bar, there is no cheapest dark malt beer here, so he always feels that there is something disadvantaged.

After a short break, Sherlock and Catherine left the bar, the cold wind of the night and the noise around him re-enveloping it, and he felt with some regret that he might never be able to adapt to the life of the aristocratic class.

And that's when .

A steam locomotive slowly drove from the corner of the street, just a short distance from the bar.

Several people with waists that were too straight got out of the car.

They seemed to stand on both sides of the car door very casually, but they faintly showed a kind of hugging and protective posture, and then a middle-aged man with a very clean face stepped out of the car.

He was tall and thin, with a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, dressed in the most ordinary winter clothes, with gentle and supple features, and calm eyes, like a poet or painter who was very easy to get along with, standing quietly in the night breeze, letting his hair be blown up.

Sherlock was only a few steps away from the car, so he looked sideways, and with the same direction, his gaze also looked over the shoulders of several people, and saw the man who had just stepped out of the car.

And at this moment, the man, seemingly coincidentally, also turned his head and looked at Sherlock silently.

No one knew what this moment of looking at each other meant, but the owners of the two gazes seemed to subconsciously let their eyes squint slightly, like a spark polishing between the two, a little dazzling, and the person who shook was not very comfortable.

Of course, no one looked at the spark of the moment, and between the two people there was only the wind, and a leaf in the wind, a few grains of dust.

In the next second, the middle-aged man turned around without warning, smiled gently, and walked to Sherlock's side.

A few people standing on the side hurriedly got out of the way, I don't know if it was because they were too respectful, afraid of getting in the way of this person, or because they were too afraid, for fear of touching each other.

And as the man approached, Catherine noticed him too, slowly looked sideways, looked at him, and then suddenly thought of something, and her whole body suddenly tensed, and the arm that was blocked by Sherlock's body reached forward sharply, grabbing the hem of his clothes.

"Hello, Miss Catherine."

The man's eyes had been staring at Sherlock all the time on the way he had come, but when he got closer, he suddenly looked at Catherine, and bowed very politely, his legs together, and his body slightly, just like the pictures in a social etiquette textbook, and he couldn't find the slightest fault with the standard.

But Catherine's hand that was blocked behind Sherlock clenched tighter, but fortunately she could still maintain the composure on her face:

"You are. Mr. Baskerville? ”

"Exactly! I didn't expect Miss Catherine to know me. Baskerville straightened up and said, "I have heard about your father, and I deeply regret it, for he is a scholar in the history of mankind who can be called a treasure, and the Light will bless his soul." ”

There was some sadness on his gentle face:

"As for the reason why I came this time, it was because it was written in the recruitment document signed at that time that I could come and get my contract demon back after the experiment was over, in fact, I should have come a few months ago, but because of the delay in military affairs, I only got on the transport airship to and from here a week ago, and because of my special status on the front line, I didn't greet you in advance, I'm really sorry."

At this, Catherine's heart grew heavier.

Indeed, it was written in the requisition document that after the experiment was over, the other party could take his contract creature back, and the death of his father naturally heralded the end of the experiment.

But now the case seems to have just begun to show some signs of the case, and at this time Baskerville suddenly appeared and wanted to take the demon away, which will inevitably affect the detection of the case.

And!

Sherlock seemed to think that the front-line commander in front of him was the murderer of his father.

Although this idea is so ridiculous, since he said so, there must be some relevance.

So subconsciously, Catherine looked at Sherlock on the side.

At the same time, Baskerville looked over, and then smiled and said, "The person who can have dinner with Miss Catherine must be extraordinary, so can you introduce this gentleman?" ”

Before Catherine could speak.

"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, private investigator, it's a pleasure to meet you. ”

Sherlock took the initiative to reply, and at the same time reached out his hand in a friendly manner, and Baskerville also reached out to shake it in a friendly manner, but the palms of the two of them parted, and the air was inexplicably more nervous.

"Detective?" Baskerville was a little puzzled: "It can't be that we are investigating the death of the old dean of Darwin." ”

"Exactly."

"Although I have not been in the territory of the empire, according to me, the death of the old dean was just an accident."

"I don't think so, in fact, in my senses, this matter can already be considered murder." Sherlock seemed to have no idea what kind of character the other party was, and said lightly: "Although there is no evidence yet, but not all cases need evidence to start the investigation, so just follow the evidence to arrest the criminal, what else do you need the detective to do?" ”

"There is some truth, so, do you have an eyebrow now?"

"Yes!" Sherlock smiled: "In my reasoning, the most likely murderer for the time being is you, Mr. Baskerville." ”

This moment of silence made Catherine's heart beat violently, and Baskerville in front of him couldn't help but be a little stunned, he really didn't expect that this private detective, who had never heard of a name, would say such a thing in front of him.

The people standing next to the car behind him were almost stunned for a moment, and then leaned in this way.

However, they were standing in a strange position, and it didn't seem to be because Sherlock had just slandered his commander and wanted to round him up and beat him up.

Instead, he stood next to Baskerville, as if he were on guard against his commander for something unrecoverable to do suddenly.

"Hahaha"

Finally, after two or three seconds of silence, it was the Baskerville commander who spoke first.

He looked at Sherlock with admiration: "I really didn't expect that I would be listed as the most likely suspect."

But I know that I am not the murderer of the old dean, and listening to what you mean, you are only suspicious of me, and there is no way to really accuse me.

So. Why are you telling me this now? ”

Sherlock smiled wryly, "Actually, I don't want to, but you just said you were going to take your contract creature away, which doesn't work, so I'll have to find a way to keep it." ”

"But isn't your approach a little too radical?" Baskerville's tone seemed to be worried about the other party.

"There's no way you came all the way, it's definitely impossible for you to return empty-handed, and I, as a detective, definitely can't let you take that demon away, this is something that can't be adjusted, and I really suspect that you are the murderer, so I'm still trying to figure out a way to try to leave you behind."

“.”

The words were breezy and light, but when they fell on the ears of the people around them, they were almost like a pair of big hands choking their throats, making it difficult for people to even breathe.

Baskerville smiled, this time his smile was sincere: "I have military affairs on my side, how can I delay because of a case?" ”

"That's why I'm going to have to figure it out." Sherlock said, lighting a cigarette.

The pungent smell of smoke penetrated Baskerville's nose, and he felt the spiciness, which was enough to make his trachea spasm, and for a moment the light in his eyes suddenly lit up, and a trace of blood wafted from under the lenses.

He sniffed the sign of the cigarette. Blues.

When Dante was in the army, he smoked this kind of cigarette and did not quit until he was old. After learning this, he tried many times, but he couldn't get used to the sore eyes of people who choked on him, and finally had to give up.

But how could this guy in front of him smoke so naturally and so freely?

Inexplicably, the pressure in the air began to rise, and the noisy wind just now didn't know when it stopped, and those withered yellow leaves fell on the long street, and some passers-by were far away and couldn't see what was going on here, but they all subconsciously stopped and no longer dared to take a step forward, while the people in the restaurant next to them noticed the very oppressive atmosphere here, and couldn't help but look through the window.

"A detective, of course, has to focus on the case, but casually framing an officer of the Holy Cult Army is not good." Baskerville spoke suddenly, earnestly: "Moreover, I left the front line this time to retrieve my contract demon, which can be regarded as a military move, and it is not okay for you to stop it as a detective; What's more, not only did you not let me take the contract demon away, but even wanted me to stay, do you know my identity on the front line, although I won't do much in the near future, but I'm far away from the battlefield, which in itself is theoretically a delay in the fighter.

None of these things are okay, and if you say these things on the front line, I may kill you directly.

But this is in the heart of the empire after all."

He paused suddenly:

"But if you just said something like that, and then you had a conflict with an officer of the Holy Cult Army, it doesn't seem like a difficult thing to explain if you were killed by mistake."

Speaking of this, the expressions on the faces of the surrounding Holy Sect Army soldiers finally reached a peak of nervousness, and several people hurriedly stepped forward to stop them.

As Sherlock thought, the reason these people were following the middle-aged commander was not to protect him.

It's to restrain him!

It's okay at the front, at least there are troops, weapons, discipline, and General Patton.

But now in the hinterland of the Empire! With that chilling style of doing things, and the bloodthirsty temperament hidden under that gentle exterior, who dares to let himself wander around the city, he is naturally followed by the strongest soldiers.

However, the movements of these Holy Cult soldiers were slow.

Or is it that the middle-aged commander is too fast!!

At this moment, he had come to Sherlock without warning, and his not too thick arm waved towards Sherlock's neck lightly, like a red-hot knife, trying to cut open a piece of soft tofu!

It's so fast that it almost exceeds everyone's reaction limit.

The only thing that seemed to react was the cigarette that swirled in mid-air, but in the process of approaching the Baskervilles, it was also torn apart by the wind pressure that was pushed away, turning into wisps of tobacco and debris.

Next second.

Bang! A bang.

The air was compressed to the extreme in a very short time due to the instantaneous contact between the two people, and then exploded violently, making a deafening roar!

(End of chapter)