"Cooking?" Sherlock still didn't understand what the little girl in front of him meant, but wondered, "Is this some kind of code word?" ”

"No, it's just that the cook lady said that she is very grateful to these people for their hard work to protect her, and she wants to do something in return, but she has nothing, not even too much savings, so she can only choose to cook something for everyone to show her gratitude." Nopa explained, but Sherlock could clearly hear it, and there was a subtle change in her tone as she said the words "make something to eat":

"But the young lady can't really invite these people into the villa, she can't cook so much food for the time being, and to be honest, letting so many people in is also a kind of disruption to the security measures.

So she just wants to invite you in for the time being, after all, she knows you.

Let you taste the snacks she makes, and if you think it tastes good, then she will make more, and she can share them with the guards tomorrow morning. ”

Sherlock nodded, Nightingale is naturally one of the few people in this world who really knows how to be grateful, otherwise she would not have carried a simple package and got on the train leaving her hometown, this quality is undoubtedly a virtue in this era.

"Isn't it a good thing, those big-headed soldiers can eat the snacks made by Miss Nightingale, it is estimated that in a few days, the ripper will really drive an armored car over, and they will fight to the death and feel that this life is not in vain, what is the matter with your sad expression?"

As he was asking, he saw a moment of panic flash in Nota's eyes, and then took a few deep breaths: "Because, Miss's cooking skills. Not so good. ”

"Not so good?"

"It's just, uh, you haven't eaten it anyway, that's why I just said it, you can't understand it."

Sherlock really can't understand how bad his cooking skills are, how bad can he be?

But when he saw the fear flashing in Nopana's eyes, his keen sixth sense as a detective told him that everything didn't seem to be so simple.

In this way, the two people walked to the villa, and in the barracks, countless heads came out, and they poked out of the door one by one, regardless of the wind and rain, just staring at the backs of the two people, and opened the door of the villa not far away, and then "clicked".

It was the sound of the door shut, and under such a curtain of rain, it should have been muffled by the sound of dripping.

But on the contrary, it is like a morning bell in the mountains, roaring into everyone's ears!

"Got in?"

"Fuck! Really in! ”

These people were a little confused, a little panicked, a little excited, looking at each other one by one, not knowing what to say.

If this guy was called in yesterday morning, it was because this guy was indeed an extremely powerful character, and as the person in charge of Miss Nightingale's safety, it was normal for him to go in and say some precautions.

But what does it mean to count today?

It's night!

Moreover, the man was covered in rain, and when he saw His Excellency Nightingale, he did not think of bathing and changing?

Wait a minute!

Shower and change clothes?!

As mentioned before, the group of security guards are all men, and the female security guards are in a separate tent, which leads to the fact that they only need to look at each other to know the things that only men think.

One by one, their mouths grew in shock, and one of them even waved his hands and shouted with some excitement:

"Impossible! When pigs fly! ”

Of course not, Sherlock entered the villa really just to taste Nightingale's craftsmanship.

He just felt that Nopa's look was a bit of a fuss now.

Unlike yesterday, the two of them did not go up the steps, but went directly to the dining room on the first floor, on the other side of the dining room, is the kitchen, and at this time, the kitchen door is open, and when you look over, you can see the flickering flames from time to time reflect the red light on the wall, and you can faintly hear bursts of explosions.

Nopa motioned for Sherlock to sit down, and then sat down on the other side of the table in great peace.

It's a bit weird to talk about her calm at this time, but she who was still frightened and at a loss just now seems to be finally relieved, leaving only that silent feeling of seeing death as home.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, then asked tentatively, "Miss Nightingale. In the kitchen? ”

"Hmm." Nopa's face was slightly pale, but he nodded very seriously.

"What is she doing?"

"According to her previous plan, she was supposed to be cooking an object called 'dim sum.'"

Sherlock blinked, feeling that Nopa's words were subtle: "But, make a snack. Why does the popping sound occur? ”

"I solemnly repeated it again, Miss's cooking skills are really not so good." Nopa stared at Sherlock, looking very serious: "But, no matter what happens, you can't be too resistant, you can act less delicious, but you can't vomit, you can't cry, you can't scold, you can't rush out of the door!" Got it? ”

These words made Sherlock even more confused, and he even felt that his reasoning skills were a little difficult to use at this time, so he could only ask in a low voice, "Why?" ”

"Because we have to ensure Miss's state of mind."

"Huh?"

"Because Miss's ability is actually affected by her mood." "It's not a secret, but not many people know about it, anyway, if Miss has no confidence, self-doubt, denial, self-blame and other states of mind because of something, then her healing ability will also be affected," Nopa said.

For example, when she was a child, when she had just awakened her abilities, her parents were resolutely opposed to her healing injuries for others, probably for fear that she would cause some trouble, and after repeated scolding and grounding, her ability began to gradually decline.

And afterwards, she finally followed her heart and walked out of the house, this ability gradually returned, and even as she treated more and more people, she continued to identify with this sense of mission, and Miss's ability continued to grow.

Just a few years ago, when I ate the first time that Miss cooked, I was very sincere in expressing my feelings, probably because my mouth was too poisonous, which caused a big blow to her.

For half a month, she couldn't heal other people's injuries well. ”

After listening to this, Sherlock also nodded, in fact, the ability to contract is affected by the state of mind, which is very understandable, so as long as you don't behave too badly when you eat for a while, and you can even praise the other party's cooking skills, maybe it can also make Miss Nightingale's self-confidence rise, resulting in an increase in ability.

As the most beautiful and kindest woman in the whole world, it must be natural to praise her.

I was thinking that the noise in the kitchen finally stopped.

Sherlock could clearly tell from the sound that an oven was turned on, and then some plates and cutlery clanged, probably a little hot when the baked snack was taken out, and it was inevitable that there would be bumps, which was normal.

But what's going on with this wafting smell?

Sherlock frowned, and then saw Nopa's dead face, and the look of death as if he were at home, and the bad premonition in his heart grew stronger.

But the reality didn't give him any chance to think too much, or regret it, and only heard a voice as clear as falling water from a mountain spring:

"Out of the oven"

Immediately afterwards, Miss Nightingale came out of the kitchen.

She wore a thick apron, held a delicate dinner plate in her hand, and had the most sincere smile on her face, which seemed to have a faint holy silver glow, caressing her cheeks, hair, placket, and every curve on her body.

However, the billowing smoke from the kitchen and the so-called 'snack' on the plate made Sherlock's heart tremble violently.

It wasn't until Miss Nightingale brought the plate to Sherlock and placed it on the table that he looked at the blackened surface of the object on the plate, the outline of the twisted tentacles, the slight graininess in the black, which made people faintly feel a layer of goosebumps on their bodies, and the most incredible thing was that in the swirling whirlpool, there was a pool of green viscous juice, which rippled slightly with the action of the plate being put down.

Sherlock tried his best to suppress the change in his expression, and his heart began to read silently.

"I'm fucking me! It's from the blood prison! ”

"In this world, there is nothing that can make me feel fear!"

"Nope!"

As soon as he thought of this, Nightingale's voice suddenly remembered, and the gentle voice seemed to have a terrifying lethality:

"Mr. Sherlock, please try it."

(End of chapter)