Early in the morning of the fifth day, Sherlock woke up from his bed.

With the blessing of the second-order contractor's physical fitness and the recovery effect provided by those tentacles in hell, his injuries have been healed, and the fatigue of his brain due to the long-term consumption of these two months and the fight during the transportation has completely disappeared.

Thinking back to the night when he fought with Baskerville, Sherlock seemed to faintly feel some kind of change in his body, and he felt that it was likely that he had touched the line of the peak of the second order of the contractor, but it was just a touch, and if he wanted to cross, he should have to wait for an opportunity.

In the past few days, Watson doesn't know why, inexplicably interested in a gun, he walks out of the house before dawn every morning, and he doesn't know when he will come back at night.

Fortunately, 221B is not Sherlock's property, as long as that guy doesn't really come back to play with a person who has been picked up one day, he won't bother the other party.

Sitting down at the table, he made himself a cup of coffee, and then took a few bites of the instant biscuits he had bought the other day, and he picked up the newspaper he had just picked up from the door and read it casually.

Similar to the previous day's report, the content was either a march or a condemnation, and most of the newspapers were discussing how the interruption of the inheritance would affect the empire, but some newspapers chose to take a different path and began to send reporters to interview the families of those who died in the London accident.

The war on the front line, the popularization of new energy, and the replacement of the throne are already inevitable endings, and those reported in the newspapers are actually the pains that must be faced before the reform, Sherlock also knows that Moriarty must have taken these into account a long time ago, otherwise he would not let the people make such a fuss, of course, he was also a little surprised, the old man who was about to die really had the powerful ability to bring the entire empire into chaos without saying a word.

Fortunately, anger is not a long-term state, and no matter how stupid people are, there will eventually be a time when they are sensible, so wait for the angry people of the empire to gradually get tired, and then at a suitable time, the evidence of those crimes will be clearly presented in front of people's eyes, and everything will gradually get better.

In this way, it is a bit too cautious for him to let the black tide composed of tentacles in hell advance in the direction of the ancient Roman law city, if he had known that everything was going so well, then he should have let those little guys absorb a little more demons, so that maybe when fighting Baskerville, he would not have to fight so badly.

Oh yes, after more than half a year of drawing hell, Sherlock seems to have discovered something very strange, and that is the demons of hell. It doesn't seem to be a creature that expands its population by 'reproducing'.

Because Sherlock knew very well that he had absorbed or killed almost all the demons in London in the past period, but after spending more than a month in the Academy of Life Sciences and two months in the suburbs of London, when he was idle again and focused his attention on his surroundings, he found that many demons appeared in hell.

These demons certainly did not give birth through mating, nor did they come out of the shells of some remaining egg in the horns.

They just suddenly appeared somewhere, in a moment that Sherlock hadn't noticed.

He had nothing to do these days when he fell asleep, and even carefully cleaned up the demons in a certain area around him, but after two days, he found another corrosive dog on a corner outside Baker Street.

Sherlock has not yet found a pattern to this phenomenon, and he doesn't know if it's a good phenomenon, so he can only wait and see.

At the same time, in a small church on the edge of a small city, more than 1,300 kilometers north of the ancient Roman city, a nurse was carefully checking the names of some medicines.

She wrote down a list of the drugs, then handed them to a courtroom staff member outside the door, and instructed with great seriousness:

"The manufacturer of each drug must buy according to what I wrote, the production date should not exceed one month, please sterilize the packaging before sending it, and seal it, and. When will the oxygen cylinder I want be delivered, the patient's body is very weak now. ”

I don't know if I've been chatting with Augustine the Great for a long time, but this civilian nurse didn't have the slightest cowardice when facing the high-ranking inquisition clergy, and even had a hint of majesty in her tone, as well as dissatisfaction with these judicial officers.

In her eyes, the old man was not just a king, but more of a patient, a venerable old man whose physical functions had been exhausted and who lived only with strong willpower, but this group of fellows actually let him ride a steam locomotive and travel more than a thousand kilometers just to bring him into this small church.

This is undoubtedly the most disrespectful act for a patient to do without regard for human rights

"Why are we staying here?"

No one answered her.

"How long are we going to stay?"

Still no one answered.

"Regardless of whether a person is guilty or not, even while he is serving his sentence, as long as he has a physical illness, he has the right to receive the medical treatment he deserves, this is written in the laws of the Empire, and you just let a critically ill old man stay in a room without any sterilization conditions, without even going through the normal trial process, and keep saying that you are exercising the laws of the Empire."

The young nurse was obviously only in her early 20s, but between her simple words, the judges guarding the door were a little overwhelmed.

Fortunately, at this moment, a sound of footsteps came from the church hall in the distance.

The young nurse looked over and saw a small figure approaching her, the midday sun pouring down from the colourful glass of the dome, making the man who looked three or four years older than herself walk in the changing waves of water.

She watched as the man got closer and closer to her, eventually stopping in front of her.

"Hello, a transport truck carrying the most specialized medical equipment is on its way here, it should be 15 minutes away." The man said, with the most sincere apologies in his tone.

The girl looked at the other party's black and white robes, the golden silk threads that loomed between the fabrics, and the golden sunflower pendant on her chest, which symbolized the supreme power of the Holy See, and couldn't help but be stunned for a moment.

"So, in those 15 minutes, may I speak to Mr. Augustine?"

The man asked, looking like a careless relative visiting a critically ill patient, cautiously seeking permission from the ward nurse.

And that's when .

"If you can, please let him in."

The old man's voice came from inside the house, probably because he was afraid that through the door, no one outside could hear him.

In short, for the first time in all these years, the young nurse was surprised to know that the old man, who was extremely weak, could also make such a neutral voice

(End of chapter)