Watson moved the scalpel to his eyes, and there was an area of reddish hilt that had not changed color, and it was obvious that the material was different from the material of the knife itself.

“.” Watson was silent, he certainly knew that an ordinary scalpel would not have such a complex design. For a while, many thoughts flashed through my mind, and finally I only thought of the most reasonable explanation, and that is. The old drunkard had hidden something in this knife.

So, he slowly got up and walked out of the infirmary.

The people in the factory are still busy, and the broken facilities are being repaired at an alarming rate, and it looks like they will be back to normal after tonight, and people can't help but sigh that the efficiency of these researchers has really reached an unbelievable level.

During the walk through the factory corridor and facilities, many people saw Watson, all stopped their movements, and threw hurried glances at him, Watson naturally responded politely, and in this way, he walked all the way to a small cubicle where he put tools, and picked up a hand saw.

"Sting! Sting! ”

The sharp sound of metal grinding began to sound.

The old beggar may have been a great man, but Watson had little reverence for him, after all, he lied to himself about his shameless appearance when he drank, and when he was foolish. It's really shameless.

Therefore, this so-called 'parting gift' left for myself is sawed and sawed, and I don't feel distressed at all.

Even, Watson still had a little complaint, that old guy had better leave something else for himself, otherwise it would be okay, otherwise it wouldn't be good, after all, the other party was shameless.

The screeching sound lasted for about a minute, and the scalpel was sawed off.

As expected, there was something hidden in the center of the handle, a small tube made of black metal, and after twisting it from the middle, a small rolled up note fell.

Watson picked it up and opened it, and immediately afterwards, a string of extremely scribbled, but unusually sharp words appeared before his eyes, and at a glance it was clear that the person who wrote them was the old beggar, because the first line above was:

[Hello, Mr. Howss]

Watson couldn't help but smile bitterly, wondering when the old guy would be able to call his name right.

Read on

[When you read this letter, we should have been separated for a long time.

I know you miss me a lot, but people will always be different, please don't always worry about it.

In the previous divination, I said that you could change the world in the future, but you didn't seem to believe it at the time.

This is normal, after all, you are just a doctor, and there should be no way to do anything for the world from all angles.

The world is unfair, but in some things, it is absolutely fair.

For example, there is only one life for everyone.

I know you like fairness, and I like it too, or rather, I like the absolute idea of death, and when you die, there's nothing, in other words, killing people is actually the fastest way to change the world.

I also love beautiful things, autumn nights, golden wheat fields, sunflowers facing the sun, irises, families sitting under the gas lamp eating baked potatoes at night.

We like the same things, and as I said, you're a lot like me when I was younger.

Oh, a little off topic.

As for this scalpel, it must have broken in the process of using it, I hope you didn't saw it, I sold wine bottles for three days to buy such a one.

Anyway, I left you a gun.

It's a good gun, it's easy to carry, it's easy to load, it's been a few years, and I deposited it in the underground storage vault of the Bank of London, and the password is [Starry Sky].

Well, that's it, hopefully we'll never see each other again.

——————Vincent]

Watson looked at the letter and sighed again, why does this old guy with half of his face disappear always like to communicate with himself by writing letters?

And why did he go to great lengths to hide the letter in the hilt of his knife, instead of telling it to himself?

Well, the other party's way of thinking, he didn't want to speculate, but he was a little concerned about the place where the gun was stored in the underground storage of the Bank of London.

It's one of the most secure places in London, and the cost of storing things there is not a small amount.

Did this old guy ever be rich?

His eyes fell on the name [Vincent] at the end of the letter, and he couldn't help but smile helplessly, it turned out that in the end, the other party didn't want to tell him his full name.

At dusk, the fog around the city of London was even more severe, making the whole world seem to be bathed in a golden glow with very low visibility, and a horse-drawn carriage came from the golden fog, with no signs and no advance notice, so it was stopped by the patrolling security personnel before entering the factory area.

There were no passengers in the carriage, only the coachman, and when he saw that someone had stopped him, he had no intention of going any further, but took out a letter and handed it to the man in front of him.

"Leave it to Sherlock, please. Mr. Holmes. ”

From beginning to end, he left such a sentence, and when he saw the security guard pick up the letter, he directly drove the carriage to turn around and disappear into the fog again

The security personnel looked at each other, not only because of the hurried coming and going of the driver, but also because the location of this factory was so secret that it was impossible for ordinary people to know about it.

Therefore, the person served by this coachman must be a big man with an unusual status and is qualified to know here.

Looking at the envelope, the paper is fine, white, very flexible, and may even have a waterproof function, this kind of paper is expensive, and it is only possible for people with extremely high status to use it. And the handwriting of "——— to Sherlock" above looks very delicate, and there is a faint fragrance in the ink, which is undoubtedly the hand of a certain lady.

This security officer didn't dare to delay more, although he didn't know who this Sherlock was, but just looking at this posture, he knew that he must be a powerful guy, otherwise it would be impossible for a woman with such an extraordinary status to worry, and quickly trotted into the factory with admiration and envy.

In the rest room of the factory, because some facilities need to be rebuilt, it seems that it will not be able to work today, Sherlock has a rare time to rest, Watson seems to have been injured in the riot just now, but he was caught, he went to find a needle and stitched a few times, and he didn't need to care.

"Knock~knock~knock~" A few knocks sounded on the door.

Sherlock walked over and opened the door and saw a patrol officer outside, with a letter in his hand.

"For me?" He wondered slightly.

"Yes, sir." The man looked at the man in front of him with some surprise, and recognized that he was the person who had defended the entire factory with his own strength today, and couldn't help but respect him more, and at the same time felt that such a person was indeed worthy of the admiration of a noble lady, so he bowed slightly and handed the letter over with both hands.

Sherlock took the letter, his fingers rubbing against the texture of the page.

In his impression, this kind of paper is frighteningly expensive, and it is not something that can be bought if you want to, only when he went to Moriarty's small villa before, he had only seen it a few times, and I thought it was a special product of the Holy See.

So. Is that the kid writing to me?

However, when he turned the envelope upside down and saw the handwriting on it, he realized that it didn't seem to be from Moriarty.

And this handwriting. It's a little familiar.

Open the envelope, pull out the letter inside, and look at the few short words on it:

[Long time no see.]

Looks like you rented my room to someone else.

But that person seems to like to tidy up the house more than I do, and the room is very clean, so I don't care about it.

I'm leaving tonight, and before I leave, I want to see you.

Hope you can come over soon. 】

(End of chapter)