After hearing Franklin's words, Sherlock did not simply raise his eyebrows, but looked at the emperor in front of him very suspiciously:

"Well, I didn't think I said I was going to the front."

"Oh? Really? Franklin immediately put on a puzzled expression, as if he was trying to find something in his memory, and finally smiled freely: "Maybe I'm mistaken, but your name is indeed on the list of people who went to Redk Strait." ”

As he spoke, he turned around directly, picked up a piece of paper from the desk that looked like it had been prepared a long time ago, and handed it to Sherlock.

There's a kind of 'I don't want to pretend anymore'.

Sherlock took the list, and then, right on it, he saw [John. Watson] The huge signature.

He opened his eyes and sighed weakly: "If I'm not mistaken, it's Watson's promise that I can follow him to the front line." ”

"Oh, I think that's what it looks like." Franklin suddenly remembered something.

"Then why did he go to the front?"

"As I recall, Miss Nightingale sent an official letter to the front-line medical unit in the Reddeck Strait last month, asking for permission to go to the war zone, and among the recommendations of the accompanying medical team, someone recommended John Anderson. Watson, after all, had experience in field medicine, and was also acquainted with Miss Nightingale.

As for why he wrote your name, then I don't know, you can ask him personally. ”

Looking at Franklin's gentle smile now, it is clear that it is the wicked smile of an old fox who has succeeded in his plot.

It's a shame that he was able to put 'someone recommended John. Watson's story is the same as the real thing. Can it be called a recommendation, according to Watson's admiration for Miss Nightingale, let alone the front line, let him rush under the feet of the third-order great demon with his eyes closed, he can do it.

In the evening, Sherlock returned to Baker Street.

The efficiency of the city repair team was really good, and after this day, the broken walls were repaired and the pavement was filled.

Three days had passed since the last assassination, and Miss Nightingale had left No. 221B this afternoon, because she had decided that she was going to the war zone, and there was always a lot to attend to at the end of her trip in the Empire.

So after a short break, she started to get busy again.

The Inquisition officers and the soldiers of the Imperial Royal Bureau of Investigation who accompanied her dispersed, and the street was once again deserted.

Looking at the lights on the first floor that weren't turned off, Sherlock walked over and knocked on the door.

Soon, Watson opened the door

"I thought you'd come back later." He said.

Then he walked back on his own.

Sherlock looked into the room, and then saw two suitcases on the ground, as well as some neatly folded clothes, the quilt on the bed had been changed, but the original set must have been carefully stored, that was Miss Nightingale slept in, if nothing else, Watson is probably ready to keep it for a lifetime, in fact, if he cut the sheet, make a handkerchief and carry it on his body every day, take it out and smell it if he has nothing to do, Sherlock will not be surprised.

Well, hopefully Watson won't do such perverted things.

After entering the room, he sat on the chair very casually: "Are you packing your luggage to the Reddeck Strait?" ”

"Yes, the temperature on the front line is very low, so you always have to bring some warm clothes."

In Watson's suitcase, all kinds of clothes are stuffed tightly in a very regular way, which makes people faintly feel very comfortable to see.

"Then why are you pulling me over?" Sherlock asked again.

"The management of the accompanying team asked for it, and they made it clear that if I wanted to go, I had to pull you on too, otherwise they wouldn't let me get on the airship."

“.” Sherlock frowned slightly, "You didn't ask them, why is that?" ”

"Asked." Watson replied distractedly, "But they said it was confidential and couldn't tell me." ”

"So you just didn't care about it, didn't even know the reason, and just wrote my name on it?"

"yes." Watson admitted it so simply and directly, and then folded a suit into a boxy one, which happened to be tucked into a gap in the edge of the box, not wide at all, not narrow at all.

Sherlock's tone was a little helpless: "Then you won't be unable to see it, the Imperial Government is obviously doing something." ”

"Of course I can see it."

"Then how dare you be sure that I will go to the front with you?"

Watson tucked the last piece of clothing into his suitcase perfectly, and then fastened the lid with satisfaction:

"Because Miss Nightingale will go to the front, I, as a loyal supporter of her, will naturally go with her.

As for why I think you will go, it is because half a year ago, you dragged me to the ancient Roman city and assassinated the emperor. I was shot a lot that night, I shed a lot of blood, and I was arrested in a blood cell, and I didn't see the sun for more than six months, just because you didn't see the old emperor happy at that time.

And now, I'm just asking you to come with me to the front line, you. I won't go away.

Probably not."

Watson looked at Sherlock with a slightly puzzled look, as if he was puzzled as to why the other party would ask such a question.

Sherlock didn't even finish Watson's words, and leaned back in his chair very weakly.

He is a person who has no moral bottom line, so Watson will not stand on the moral high ground and try to convince Sherlock, because he does not eat this set.

But Sherlock is extremely conceited, so the reason you owe me is better in front of him than any other coercion and inducement.

Watson just ate that for him.

In fact, Sherlock really had no way to refuse Watson.

So he hung his head without any tricks, and only raised it after a while, and after seeing the two large boxes of luggage prepared by Watson, the boss asked unhappily: "Then I will accompany you to the front, you have to help me pack up and salute." ”

"Of course, my partner, I've already cleaned it up for you."

As he spoke, Watson pointed to a small package on his chair: "I brought you a change of clothes." ”

"A set of clothes. It's gone? ”

"You need another set to wear, a change of clothes, it's enough." Watson responded very seriously.

"Then how did you bring yourself two big boxes?" He yelled as he pointed to two large suitcases by the wall.

"Of course I'm not like you, I'm going to the front war zone with Lord Nightingale.

Usually they are likely to eat together; will meet by chance on an airship; I joined her medical team, so it was likely that we would discuss some medical topics with each other; Even in the Strait of Redek, I might be with him to treat the wounded.

I always have to wear different clothes for different occasions, which is the least respect for Miss Nightingale."

He gushed on and on, with undisguised joy and excitement in his tone, like a young man and woman who were about to meet their most admired idols.

And Sherlock

He's just figuring it out now, and Watson has been here for a long time.

It's time. Got a little more rent.

(End of chapter)