Bank of London

It sounds like an unremarkable place, after all, there are banks in every city, they open at 8 o'clock during the day and close at 5 o'clock at night, there are branches in every large neighborhood, and a few service workers sit behind the protective fence, and they go through the formalities for the old people who are dizzy and trying to get some relief.

It has blended perfectly into the lives of the people of London, blending in with the traffic, the morning fog, the horse manure, the bells, and sometimes going unnoticed.

However, few people know that the Bank of London is actually one of the most well-secured banks in the entire Empire, and there is no one.

To some extent, the city can be regarded as the birthplace of the steam age, the first steam engine, the first diesel locomotive, the first turbine system, all appeared here, so, under the rule of the steam age for hundreds of years, this part of London has a huge wealth, what a precious scientific and technological site, how many asshole mongrels have a net worth of life, it is not at all ordinary people can imagine.

As a result, the underground storage of the Bank of London was born.

The existence of this underground storage vault is no secret, most London Aboriginal people have heard of this place and know that it is located beneath the headquarters of the Bank of London, and in most people's minds, it is a large safe built in the basement, which holds a lot of money, and nothing more.

But in fact, the underground storage depots of the Bank of London were extremely widely served, and in a certain degree of security were more secure than the arsenals of weapons of the Imperial military.

And the most secure of these is the storage service, which claims that even if the third demon invasion occurs one day and the whole of London falls, the stored items are still safe.

Watson had not handled this service, and he did not know if there was any exaggeration in this promotional slogan, and at this moment, he was just sitting in an elevator, and the elevator was constantly descending.

He looked at the Bank of London staff standing in front of him, the fingers in his pocket were gently rubbed, and he silently counted the time in his heart, the elevator has been going down for three minutes, isn't it the end yet?

At a depth of 70 meters underground, only the sound of "ding~" was heard, and the door of the elevator finally opened slowly.

Watson walked in the narrow corridor under the guidance of the staff, there is no sunlight here, only gas lamps embedded in the wall, wrapped in transparent plastic sheets, it looks less dazzling, and it will not produce too much temperature, there are gusts of breeze blowing through the cracks in the wall overhead, thinking that an extremely strong central air supply pipe is placed on the surface, it is really hard to imagine that it takes money to build such an underground space.

He walked for an unknown amount of time, but at last he came to a circular hall with a desk in the middle of the hall, surrounded by doors with different numbers carved on them.

"Distinguished guest, do you have the key?"

The beautiful girl behind the service desk asked straight to the point, but her tone was very respectful.

"Nope."

Watson responded.

"So, is there a password?"

"Starry sky."

Watson said the word left by the old beggar, and the girl in front of him immediately took out a book that looked very old under the service desk, quickly flipped through it for a while, and finally smiled and took out a key and handed it to the guest.

Watson took the key and found that it read "081-03".

This doesn't need to be explained, Watson thanked him very gentlemanly, and walked to the door engraved with the number 081, and after entering the door, he came to the room marked [03], inserted the key into the door lock, and turned it gently.

Door. And so it opened.

In fact, the whole process is a bit too simple, such a tight underground storage warehouse, it only needs a password to enter, it always feels a bit of a joke, but think about it, if the old beggar doesn't say this password, then it also means that if you want to find his things, you have to take the entire London bank and then search every storage room.

And as the door slowly opened, an even more shocking image appeared in front of Watson.

A wide underground river is at the foot, the rushing river water in the distance fell into a drop of 100 meters, hitting the rocks deep underground, like a majestic waterfall falling from the sky, and at the end of this raging river, is a huge to the incredible whirlpool, open the flood gate like swallowing all the river water, the never-ending roar resounded in the ears, the rapid turbulent cross-current brought out a huge wind pressure, blowing Watson's blonde hair danced wildly.

Everyone knows that more than 100 years ago, a group of crazy engineers of the first generation of mechanical institutes dug through the Thames River and poured it into a huge furnace built underground, but they only heard about it, but no one saw it with their own eyes.

No one would have imagined that the underground storage of the Bank of London would be built on this excavated underground channel

Before Watson could recover from the loud roar around him, a long bridge slowly descended from the cliff at the other end and landed right in front of him, and at this point, he finally understood why the security measures here were the best.

On top of the heavenly mound created by this environment, no human force can forcibly invade the other side.

After passing the long steel bridge, feeling the turbulent waves under his feet, and looking at the huge whirlpool in the distance, which gave people a fear of huge things, Watson finally came to the other side of the bridge, and re-entered the building embedded in the cliff, and his surging heart finally calmed down a little.

After a little more walking, I came to a door at the end, and with the slow rotation of the key, the door opened. Inside, it's just a small, locker-like space, with a small recess embedded in the wall, and a box on top of it.

It's a simple wooden box, like the garbage that has been discarded on the side of the street, picked up by a scavenger and used as a storage container.

Watson walked over to the box and looked down.

Finding that the contents were very old, there were some dried paints, a few simple brushes, and a palette that seemed to have withstood the baptism of time, and there were cracks on it, Watson carefully took these things out, and at the same time couldn't help but be a little surprised, could the disabled old beggar once also have an elegant sentiment for painting?

Finally, after digging through almost everything, he finally found the gun he had given to him at the bottom of the wooden box.

A ordinary-looking, even somewhat old revolver, I can't tell what style it is, the workmanship is extremely simple, there are no patterns, decorative carvings, not even a crosshair on the front end of the barrel.

Truth be told, Watson had been on the front lines for a while, and he knew a lot about firearms, so he knew that this gun must have been made in some humble workshop.

Of course, he never expected that the old man would really leave him a famous gun, and one day he could burst into an instant of gunfire and take the life of an unbeatable person, and since then the empire has opened a new chapter of earth-shaking history, and his name has resounded all over the world.

That's a heroic legend that only appears in the story, not reality.

He couldn't even figure out why the old beggar had a gun, and why he had the money to open a storage room in such a place, but all he stored was old things.

And that's when . Suddenly, Watson seemed to see something.

At the very bottom of the box seemed to be a cloth covered with a painting, which looked very unappreciated and was used to cushion the bottom of the box.

He reached out and peeled off the crumpled canvas, which had fortunately not become fragile after all these years.

Facing the overhead light. Watson looked at the painting silently.

Then he saw a distorted, broken, dazzling spectacle of deep blue, and he saw the tumultuous sky, the calm villages, and the flames swirling with the horizontal mountains, the white clouds, and the night sky.

He saw a starry sky.

Time passed little by little, the night of London fell again, under the fog, the starry sky of London did not have those madness and confusion, let alone those curling and spinning sadness, just blindly quiet, hazy, only the bell ringing from time to time in the distance reminded people that not everything fell into a deep sleep.

Hopkins was still pregnant with sleep, and he was actually quite tired these days, because he had to constantly explain to Sherlock how it was like for the contractor to reach the third order, and how difficult and boring it was to make a contract with a large demon.

I think back then, when I broke through the third stage, I really suffered a lot, and I had to endure the huge mental stimulation brought by evolution every day, and sometimes, as long as my demon moved a little, it could cause a terrifying headache and vomit.

There is no way, every third-order contractor has to go through this ordeal, and when you think about it this way, it will definitely be an even more painful process to tune the brain waves to the same frequency as a wild third-order archdemon.

Moreover, if he forcibly connects to the third-order demon as a second-order contractor, then this pain is estimated to rise exponentially.

But even so, Hopkins still has faith in Sherlock.

That guy's brain is like a black hole with no limits, what Professor Darwin took two years to do, and he used two months, is definitely not a fantasy.

Even, he may be able to complete it in a month, twenty days, or even half a month.

"Monster, that guy is a monster." He rolled over and muttered to himself, wanting to tell himself that even if that guy really got it done in half a month, he had to accept it!

Yes, be mentally prepared in advance, so that you can appear calm when the unthinkable happens!

I'm thinking about it.

Suddenly, bell ~ bell ~ bell ~

A phone rings.

(End of chapter)