The jailers in the blood cell had never experienced anything like this.

Natasha had never seen such a person either.

The man in front of him, as a felon, was able to get out of the blood prison intact, which was already a great gift, if it weren't for Miss Nightingale's life, and this guy did have a little talent for solving cases, who would have bothered so much effort to get him out of prison?

However, this guy not only didn't appreciate it at all, but also wanted to bring another death row prisoner out.

Is he crazy?

The surrounding jailers looked at each other one by one, not knowing what to do, Natasha pursed her lips tightly and glared at the man in front of her: "Don't think that we have a request for you, we really regard ourselves as an indispensable person, the amnesty only exempts you from punishment, not an acquittal, if you don't cooperate obediently, then we can lock you up again at any time, do you understand?" ”

It stands to reason that this is true.

But at this moment, how can Sherlock look at it according to common sense, since he has come out, it is impossible for anyone to lock him in anymore.

He knew this very well, so, as if he hadn't heard the other party's warning, he continued to put on that posture of not going in, repeating: "Again, I need my partner, a man named John. Watson's death row inmate, if you are really worried about Miss Nightingale's safety, then it is best to release him quickly, our time is precious now, and you cannot afford to pay this responsibility if we delay it too long. ”

This passage made Natasha feel a wave of anger, and even felt a little unreasonable, she wondered if this guy had been in the blood prison for too long, and was already in a half-crazy state.

But just like the other party said, the current time really can't stand being wasted, so she decided not to talk nonsense with this guy, and shouted directly:

"Tie this guy to the car!"

The voice did not fall

"Please wait a minute!"

A voice came suddenly, Natasha looked sideways, and then saw the warden running over panting, a chubby fat body bumping up and down with the pace, wiping sweat, while running closer, reluctantly squeezing out a smile: "Miss Natasha Actually, I think you can go and ask your superior again, in case, that one is called John. Watson's criminals were also pardoned. ”

"Huh?!" Natasha was stunned, she didn't understand what the warden meant.

If this guy named Sherlock can be pardoned because Miss Nightingale's status is extraordinary, then why can the death row inmate named Watson be pardoned.

Just because he's this guy's assistant?!

Natasha frowned, she was able to enter the court at a young age, and her observation skills would definitely not be too bad, so she keenly caught a trace of strangeness in the tone of the warden in front of her, as the supreme person in charge of the blood prison, his official position must be above Natasha, but he used the honorific title 'you' for her very strangely, and between the lines, I really wanted to have a sense of request.

What's going on, it's as if she's nervously reminding her that it's best to do what this death row inmate says.

Thinking of the way he ran over out of breath just now, Natasha's heart was filled with doubts, she looked at Sherlock, then at the warden, and asked a question that she had always cared about:

"Excuse me, what crime has this guy committed?"

A meaningful smile appeared on the warden's chubby face, and he directly avoided this question: "Contact your boss quickly, the situation is urgent, and wasting time is not good for anyone." ”

As he spoke, a jailer came over next to him, pulling the phone line and holding a phone in front of Natasha.

She looked at the phone in silence, and realized with some incredulity. Is the warden jealous of this death row inmate?

Shocked and confused, Natasha dialed the in-house number of the Third Division of the Trial Division, and then repeated the situation to the operator.

But what she didn't expect was that the operator directly connected the line to the newly appointed Supreme Judge of the Third Division [Stanley. Hopkins] office, and after hearing the appeal of the condemned prisoner, the new prefect did not hesitate at all, just dropped a sentence of 'wait a minute', hung up the phone, and a few minutes later, called back again, and then said very solemnly: "Give the phone to the warden of the blood cell." ”

Natasha was confused by her boss's instructions, and after she handed the phone to the warden, she was even more shocked to hear a series of conversations that she couldn't understand:

"Oh, it's me."

"Haha, okay, since the formalities are down, then of course we have to fully cooperate."

"Actually, it's been prepared for a long time, and you can release it now."

"Don't worry, the details of the procedures can be made up slowly afterwards."

"Of course it won't be a hassle."

After speaking, the warden seemed to finally breathe a sigh of relief, hung up the phone, and then looked directly at Sherlock on the side with a smile, with fat on his face: "Mr. Holmes, your assistant's pardon has also come down, please wait, we will release him immediately." ”

"It's been a lot of work." Sherlock politely responded to the warden, the work of face still has to be done, and the two casually exchanged some words that were not painful or itchy, and just like that, the warden left with the surrounding jailers.

Natasha, who was left with her head still buzzing and completely unresponsive to the situation, didn't understand why another death row prisoner could be pardoned just by a word from this guy, even if the Pope came in person, it would be impossible for this kind of thing to happen.

She gasped a few times very quickly, which made her breath steady, and the doubt in her heart became surging again, she stared at the other party deadly, and finally couldn't hold it back, and asked again:

"What the hell did you put in the blood prison for?"

"Kill." The man in front of him said calmly.

"Killed whom?"

“.” Sherlock raised his eyes slightly, then smiled, "A newly retired civilian old fellow." ”

Of course, Natasha wouldn't believe that the other party was arrested in the blood prison just for killing a civilian old man, but he didn't say it, and the warden also avoided the question intentionally or unintentionally, so she finally realized that she didn't seem to need to ask any more questions.

And at this very moment.

There was a "creak" at the door.

Natasha raised her head, and in the next second, she was a little surprised to see a blonde man walk out, she watched the man raise his head and glanced at the sunlight above his head, his eyes that he already liked to squint even tighter after months of imprisonment, like two beautiful arcs drawn up.

But Natasha felt that the sunlight pouring down from the skylight above her head was a little hotter, stabbing her eyes, and she couldn't help but say in disbelief like all women's yearning and jealousy for beautiful things: Is this person also a death row prisoner?

People definitely can't judge another person just by their appearance, so no matter how good-looking the man in front of him is, he is a death row prisoner after all.

Natasha took a deep breath and straightened her mind, hoping that her appearance at that moment was not noticed.

Immediately afterwards, she began to handle the handover procedures of the two death row prisoners, and the whole process was extremely smooth, and she could feel that some of the rules in the blood prison were relaxed because of these two people.

Twenty minutes later, the gate embedded in the mountain slowly opened, and two men and a woman walked into the wind and sand of the Gobi Mountains under the complicated gaze of several jailers.

Dry, barren, and indestructible, this kind of scenery will definitely cause great discomfort if it is seen by ordinary people.

But in the eyes of Sherlock and Watson, it is very good, without the shackles on their feet, and the body is not the kind of rough prison uniform, even if the dry wind blows, they subconsciously inhale it a few times, as if there is a taste of freedom in it.

And at this time, in front of them was a steam locomotive.

Natasha looked at the two men beside her and motioned for them to sit in the car, and according to the original plan, she should leave the no-man's land with the two men, and then board an airship to London tonight.

Forehead. That's right, they're going back to London.

Because Miss Nightingale's name appeared in the Ripper's murder trailer, the Inquisition had already contacted him early and protected her, and because Sherlock was listed as an important person in charge of protecting Miss Nightingale's safety, the security location was naturally transferred to London, which he was more familiar with.

In fact, if you think about it, the location of the first murder committed by the Ripper was in the Whitechapel district of London, and now, the location of the final confrontation with it is back in London, which seems to have a little more fatalistic flavor in the dark.

Just like that, several people walked towards the steam locomotive below.

But suddenly, Sherlock frowned, stopped and looked to the side.

With this movement, Natasha and Watson also turned their heads, only to see another car slowly approaching at the corner of a rock mass not far away.

The Blood Prison, a place that people stay away from, is not a place where people often come, so it is definitely not a coincidence that another steam locomotive appeared at the juncture when several people were released from prison.

Soon, the car stopped in front of several people, and a tall woman in a maid's outfit stepped down.

Natasha frowned, for the first thing she saw was the maid's left hand, which was not the skin and bones of a normal human, but some kind of steel-clad machine.

When the man got out of the car, she, like all maids, bowed respectfully to the young judge in front of her:

"Miss Natasha, this time has been really hard for you, but please leave the matter of sending these two people to London."

Natasha looked serious, she followed up on the ripper's serial murders from the beginning, came to the blood prison to visit Sherlock, and took him out of the prison afterwards, she was always running, and finally it was over, and suddenly a maid appeared and said that she wanted to take the two people behind her?

Then she would definitely not agree.

And she could hear that although the maid in front of her was very respectful, her tone clearly revealed an attitude that she could not refute, which made her a little unhappy:

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Sebastina Moran, a maid."

"I can see who you are, I'm asking, which organization do you serve?" Her tone was also tough, because she didn't think any force could rob people under the hands of the Inquisition.

"I have no allegiance to any organization." Moran replied flatly: "If you are asking my master, I serve the current Pope"

A wind with sand and dust blew, mixed with the peculiar heat of the rock mass, and splashed on the young judge's body, and some sweat oozed from her forehead, but she didn't notice it, she just felt that she was a little tired today, and her brain was always buzzing, and she was a little confused, as if everything was so ridiculous.

On the road, a steam locomotive of all that was not special was speeding up.

Moran sat in the driver's seat, as a qualified maid, she was good at most things in life, and she was naturally not a problem with driving.

In the back seat, Sherlock and Watson sat side by side, the vibrations of the body were not so strong, and there was no screeching roar of the steam turbine, it seemed that the engine of the car had some electrical system added, the windows were open, the sun and the howling wind rushed into the car, taking away some of the heat, and the messy hair that had not been cut for four months fluttered in the wind.

"Moriarty, that guy has been busy lately?" Sherlock asked.

"His Holiness the Pope has been preparing for the reform of the division of dioceses lately, and he hasn't had a good rest for a long time." Moran said, and she could hear that she was still as worried about her master's body as ever.

Sherlock looked out the window, and he now knew that Moriarty had become the current pope.

"Okay, I know I can come out, that kid should have put a lot of effort into it, so when you go back, thank him for me."

Moran was silent for a while, and then said, "Actually, this time the master called me to pick you up, also to express his gratitude. ”

Hearing this, Sherlock smiled

In fact, if you really want to make this matter clear, who should thank whom, it's quite complicated.

At the beginning, although Moriarty strongly opposed Shylock's assassination of Augustine the Great, this tragic assassination did provide Moriarty with real help.

If Shylock hadn't rushed over to slaughter the old emperor with no sense of social responsibility, then the complex network of relationships that Augustine the Great had woven over the past 60 years would not have been so dissipated after his abdication.

And after that, Moriarty must have wasted a lot of effort to save him, after all, this kid has just become the new pope, and he can't resist the pressure from all sides, ignoring the rules set by the first pope, to release Sherlock, how much messy operation is there, Sherlock is too lazy to think, in short, he can almost guess that the old man can appear in the blood prison, and there must be Moriarty's shadow in this matter.

It's just that he still can't think of what that kid used to influence Dante.

"However, you have run so far, it is impossible that you are really just trying to convey your gratitude to that kid." Sherlock asked again.

"Indeed. The master said that he would be able to inherit the papal throne unhindered, and that you would be of great help to him, and that although it may not have been your intention, he would always give you some practical thanks. Moran said this, pausing intentionally or unintentionally, before continuing:

"The demon you used to show the results in the wild demon's controllable experiment, the master has used some methods to compile it into your name."

"What?!"

This sentence really made Sherlock stunned slightly, and Watson next to him opened his eyes even more.

Looking at it, there are not a few third-order contractors in the entire empire, but in fact, there are not too many, each of them is the highest level of combat power of the institution to which it belongs, especially the front line, how many teams are configured around the third-order great demons.

Therefore, the third-order great demons are an extremely valued existence, each of which is firmly controlled by the Holy See, and there is even a whole piece of land that is used to store these large demons.

And Sherlock, who is still only a second-stage contractor, although he has occupied the third-order archdemon with his powerful brain power and the special attributes of his tentacles, but no matter what he thinks, that crimson should definitely not belong to his private property.

The wind blowing in through the windows of the car whistled around Sherlock, and he thought about the time he spent with Crimson, the many days and nights with which he trained hard, and the unforgettable battle against the Baskervilles in the snowy fields that winter night. Sherlock smiled:

"Then this gift is really a bit big."

"And." Moran drove onto the highway and headed towards the nearest city, and there seemed to be a sudden hint of nervousness in her tone:

Said the host

If you summon that third-order great demon, he will do everything in his power to suppress it.

But no matter how you do it, I hope you never do it again.

He will send Crimson to the Demon Breeding Farm, and if you need it in the future, you can apply for it according to the normal process, or even ask him directly through personal connections.

But if you summon that demon again, if the servants in the Temple of Light find out.

No one can protect you."

With these words, there was a moment of silence in the car.

Watson looked at Sherlock with incredible eyes, and after a long while, "You summoned a third-order archdemon?" ”

Sherlock hesitated for a moment and nodded awkwardly, "Trust me, I didn't mean to. ”

In this way, the car continued along the road until it reached a site reserved for the Holy See.

A high-speed airship bound for London has been waiting there for a long time.

This 5,000 words,It's not divided into two chapters.,On the last day of August.,Please count the votes.,I'm sick that I can't eat without a ticket.。

(End of chapter)