Seeing Sherlock's puzzled expression, and hearing His Excellency Nightingale's words, Watson also walked around curiously.

And after seeing the pattern of the demon's neck, he was also extremely puzzled.

So he reached out and touched it, and found that there was no protrusion similar to a rash, no change in touch after the scar had healed, and certainly not some kind of tattoo, or totem painting as in the ancient custom.

"It's like. It is a pigmentation of some kind of subskin. ”

He could only try to explain it from a doctor's point of view.

Of course, he knew that it was impossible for mere pigmentation to form such a drawing, and that the lines were as straight as if they had been carved with the most precise ruler.

Give him the feeling. It's like some kind of text, or password.

The night was over, and some of the city's maintenance bureau crews had arrived on Baker Street a few hours earlier and had begun repairing the surrounding broken streets and buildings.

These people are very professional, after they come here, they go straight to work without saying a word, don't ask anything, don't say anything, don't look at anything, if it is not for the need to look at the road when carrying and repairing equipment, they can't wait to keep their heads down, only staring at their feet.

Fortunately, the damage to the street was not very serious, except for a section of asphalt and a wall in front of 221B, there was nothing else to rebuild, so in this way, the morning sun pierced through the morning fog, and some residents of the lower town woke up early and loaded their heavy goods into the wagons, just to get to the market and grab a not too bad position.

And when they passed by the construction team, these people only looked at them curiously for a few seconds, and then withdrew their gaze.

As for the armored vehicles parked around, they can indeed attract some attention, but there is still no way to stop these less wealthy people, and even in order to avoid trouble, most pedestrians will deliberately speed up when passing through this street.

In this world, curiosity and watching the excitement do not make one's life better, as if every morning, you can see some dead beggar corpses in the alleys on the side of the street, but no one cares; Some even leave it in place for days until it rots and attracts bugs and rats, and then a garbage disposal truck from the city is dispatched to throw the carcass that no one cares about into the back of the garbage truck.

That night, Sherlock didn't sleep, he kept staring at the humanoid demon all night.

But in the end, he had to confirm that he couldn't get any information about this demon.

Because this guy really seems to be like a still statue.

She doesn't speak, she doesn't eat, she doesn't go to the toilet, and if she were to be considered a 'person', then her mouth should always secrete some saliva, she must swallow, she must blink, she must yawn a few times.

But nothing.

This guy is like a person who has had his brain removed, no thinking, only the heart to supply blood to the body, and uses breathing to maintain the normal value of oxygen in the body, in addition, she is no different from a tree, it is hard to imagine, how such a demon can establish a contractual relationship with a human being, always feel that it can appear in a person's awakening dream, this thing itself is full of strangeness,

"Shell."

That's right, that's the word.

When Sherlock quietly stabbed her fingertips with a knife, and then watched the blue blood flow down his skin, he didn't know why, and subconsciously thought of the word.

Then, he saw that the knife wound was instantly restored at a speed visible to the naked eye, and it was not even a second before and after, and there was no trace of it anymore.

Well, Nightingale has the ability to heal diseases and injuries, so naturally her contract demon has this ability, and it also proves why such a motionless creature can still maintain such a perfect body and skin in hell.

Because the scorching sands of hell can't leave any traces on this thing's body.

Now, three mysteries lay out in front of Sherlock.

First: What exactly is Nightingale's contract demon, and why does it have such a well-established 'human form'?

Second: What does this demon have to do with humanity's counterattack on hell?

Third: What does that pattern on the back of the neck of this thing mean?

Sherlock thought about it all day, but he still couldn't find any clue.

After daybreak, Hopkins proposed that Miss Nightingale be transferred to the nearest military base and then protected for another half month.

However, Nightingale refused, because she felt comfortable living here, and if the old beggar really regretted it and suddenly came back, then it might be safer to stay here than in a military base.

The next day, the street was repaired, and the conspicuous armoured cars finally drove out of the block, and people seemed to forget that two days ago it was crowded with heavily armed soldiers, and that no one would have known that the great Lord Nightingale lived in this ordinary rented house, otherwise the whole street would have been filled with worshippers.

In the afternoon, the most beautiful girl in the world had a rare chance to rest, and she wanted to go shopping, and it was hard to believe that she had not really picked out a fitting dress for herself for almost five years.

But this idea really scared Hopkins and the others enough, and I don't know what this girl's heart is made of, she has just experienced a life-and-death assassination, she was not like other girls, she was so frightened that she hid in the room for a few weeks and didn't dare to go out of the house, but wanted to go shopping?

Could it be that Miss Nightingale's healing power also includes healing mental blows and wounds?

Fortunately, under the worries of many people, and even humble dissuasion, she finally dispelled this idea.

On the third day, Sherlock still locked himself and the teenage demon in a room room, and when Watson pushed open the door and walked in, he saw a floor full of paper.

Picking it up, he saw that it was a line-like pattern drawn on the back of the girl's demon's neck.

It seems that Sherlock also thinks that this pattern is recording some kind of information, so he wants to try to decipher it.

But judging by the paper littered all over the floor, it seems that he did not succeed.

"What's the matter?" Sherlock asked, holding a freshly copied pattern in his hand as he compared it to a painting on another piece of paper.

"There's a car outside, and the Emperor, Mr. Franklin, wants to see you."

Watson replied directly.

(End of chapter)