Blood flowed out of the old beggar's body.

He stood still, then lowered his head, feeling the deadly pain from the shrapnel and gunpowder remaining in his body.

One second. Two seconds

Time that seemed to stand still just now finally returned to its normal flow rate, and the second hand on the wall was passing backwards little by little.

The rest of the room reacted at this point, but no one acted rashly, because everyone had not yet figured out what was going on, who the old man who suddenly appeared, why Sherlock was defeated by him in that instant, and why Watson suddenly pulled out a gun and shot at this person.

The most important thing is that they clearly feel that this old man, who is emaciated, broken, and has been shot several times, still has the ability to burst out in an instant and kill anyone in this room.

The soldiers outside the room got up from the ground with great difficulty, and the speed of the old beggar just now brought out a huge and incredible wind pressure, directly crushing the asphalt ground, and also swept the surrounding guards together like a whirlpool, and the blood and qi in the chest cavity of each other were surging, and now these people grabbed the guns scattered on the ground in embarrassment, and then immediately aimed at the collapsed wall, if it weren't for the fact that there were too many people in the room, I was afraid that the stray bullets would hurt Miss Nightingale, it is estimated that these people would have shot wildly.

But the old beggar seemed to ignore these people, and he did not continue to rush at the girl in the room to complete his unfinished assassination. He just stood there, his fingers stained with the blood left on his body, and stared in amazement.

Silence pervaded the long street, and the old man pondered something blankly, and then suddenly raised his head and looked at Watson:

"So. Is the price I gave still not enough? He finally made his first sound since he appeared, as the lobes of his lungs had been punctured, filling his throat with the strange gurgling sound of blood-soaked blisters.

Of course, he understood what was going on by now.

John. Watson and this guy named Sherlock are very distracted, and they put on a clumsy scene to make themselves think that Watson is ready to accept the identity of [Ripper], and show a dilemma that they can't kill Nightingale, tempting themselves to appear.

Then, he used the gun he gave to Watson to pierce his body.

Sounds pretty sad

It's just that the old beggar doesn't understand, how can a person like Watson, who has an absolute pursuit of beauty, and at the same time a person who is extremely persistent and rational, almost obsessive-compulsive disorder, refuse the opportunity to shape a more beautiful future with his own hands?

How can anyone resist this temptation?

Watson didn't put down the gun in his hand, just looked at the other party so intently, although the old beggar was now seriously injured to the point that a normal person couldn't stand up at all, but he was still afraid that as long as he was distracted, he would never be able to catch the other party's figure again.

"Of course the price is enough, and even a little too much." Watson said calmly, his voice was very soft, probably to avoid the ups and downs of his chest when he spoke, and he would let his arm shake with it, so that the other party could seize the opportunity to avoid it for a moment: "But I just don't want it." ”

“.？”

This was a very strange sentence, which made the old beggar not understand the meaning of the words at first.

If a price is good enough, why wouldn't anyone want it?

Could it be because of inertia that the young man he fancies has begun to settle for the status quo?

Of course not, people like Watson and himself don't pursue something more beautiful, then what's the point of life?

I don't know whether he saw the doubts in the old beggar's heart, or simply didn't finish his words, Watson added a sentence very appropriately:

"And. In fact, I have always felt that if you want to pursue something more beautiful, but the price is to destroy another beautiful thing, then the matter itself has nothing to do with beauty. ”

"Huh." The old beggar smiled bitterly and shook his head: "Of course, this kind of thinking is the most perfect, but human beings are not omniscient and omnipotent, and we must make some trade-offs in many things. ”

Yes, the Light does not favor anyone, so how can anyone try to gain all the good things without losing anything?

Everybody understands this.

But

"But Lord Nightingale can't." Watson said without thinking.

"Why?"

The old beggar didn't seem to be at all worried about his injuries, and he didn't seem to be angry at the failure of his assassination, but asked with more interest and curiosity.

Even, he seemed to want to hear it, this is because the young man in front of him has some sour love in his head, so he will make such a ridiculous but funny drama that he will not hesitate to abandon the whole world for the sake of a woman, just to make the other party laugh.

However, he only heard the simplest answer.

"Because Lord Nightingale is beautiful."

"Huh?"

"I had only seen her portrait before, but now that I see the real her, I think she is even more beautiful than in the painting." Watson explained; Although this explanation may sound a little difficult to understand to most people:

"And she's sitting in my rented room right now, and she says it's very neatly furnished, and she doesn't care if the bedding on that bed isn't new, she's close to me, and it's so beautiful and real.

You should be able to understand what I'm talking about.

I don't know why you put her name on the murder notice, maybe because it's a trial to screen the so-called heir, or because it's something even higher, but it doesn't make any sense to me.

Because in my opinion, if Her Excellency Nightingale dies, then at the moment of her death, this world will no longer be the world I like, so the beauty of this world will not be so attractive to me.

After all, no matter how perfect this world is, after all, there is one most beautiful person missing. ”

Speaking of this, Watson paused abruptly, looking at the old man in front of him who had been with him for a long time, but since leaving, he had gradually become a stranger:

"Actually. You don't want Miss Nightingale to die, do you? ”

His words silenced the old man in front of him,

At the same time, it also made the people around him stunned, and then, almost everyone thought of the most wrong part of the whole thing very naturally.

That's where Miss Nightingale's name comes in

Watson still pointed the gun at the old beggar, getting closer to the other party little by little, bringing the muzzle of the gun to a relatively safe position, but there was more helplessness in his tone:

"Actually, you don't want to kill her, I can feel it very clearly.

Otherwise, you won't need to figure out this complicated method at all.

First write down her name, tell everyone that you want to kill her, set a fixed time for yourself, and then go to great lengths to send me a letter to tempt me with your so-called legacy.

Well, I admit that your temptation does work.

But all of this makes it clear that you don't want to do anything to her.

Maybe you have the responsibility to kill her, or some reason you can't refuse, but your heart is conflicted and resistant.

You wish.

There's someone to stop you. ”

(End of chapter)