The living silently searched the rubble for other survivors, and several soldiers struggled to pull medical supplies out of a cart and treat the wounds of some of the wounded.

The whole process was immersed in silent silence.

No one seemed to feel fortunate that they had survived, only a faint suppressed sadness permeating the cold air.

Sudden extraterrestrial light. What's that, some terrible demon that unleashes abilities beyond human comprehension? Or was the Light angry at something and punished by God?

The insignificance of human beings under the majesty of nature, there was no possibility of resistance, and at that moment, the entire military base was submerged, and those heroic soldiers faced the falling snow for 10,000 years, and the experience of war and hard training in the past years did not play any role.

Then a sudden wave of demons swept past the survivors' convoy.

The good news is that after the Demon Tide crossed, a third of the soldiers still survived.

Bad news is actually all the rest of the news, bad news.

Boom————

The characteristic roar of the steam chariot came from a distance, and some soldiers took out their telescopes with difficulty, looked in the direction of the sound, and then saw a column of war chariots speeding in their direction.

Ten minutes later, an integrated team stopped not far away, and could see that the tracks of these cars had all been modified, it should be that one car was dismantled, and then the parts of that car were used to upgrade the rest of the vehicles, increasing the contact area between the wheels and the snow surface, otherwise it would be impossible to drive so fast on the snow surface.

As I said before, this group of veterans with post-war stress syndrome has no way to rest in the camp, even if they sleep, they like to camp on the spot around the battlefield. It was this habit that allowed them to go deep into the battlefield for a long distance, and they were lucky enough to avoid this big avalanche.

Major General Ulysses, with his spear in hand, walked with difficulty to the surviving soldiers, in fact, he didn't need to ask too many questions, for decades, this lame veteran had been in the most intense areas of the battle, so he only had to look at the marks left on those cars to know that these people had just been attacked by demons, and the number was staggering.

The only thing that was a little suspicious was that, judging by the scratches, there should be no chance that these people would survive.

Turning sideways, he saw a man curled up alone, a surgical gown that he didn't have time to take off was particularly eye-catching on the battlefield, Ulysses knew that this person was Sherlock. Holmes's partner, presumably named Watson, has been with the accompanying medical team.

So he walked over.

"What about Miss Nightingale?" Ulysses asked calmly.

This major general is not a war maniac whose head is full of blood and gunsmoke, he knows that Nightingale is a special existence, whether it is social significance or psychological impact on the front-line soldiers, so he did not care about the wounded, and did not even ask how many people died, and the war will always die.

He just wanted to know, where was the girl?

The man in front of him didn't speak, but trembled a little more.

"Miss Nightingale! Where is it! Ulysses' voice was a little harsher.

Still no response.

The veteran walked up to Watson and pulled the other party up, the military doctor who was able to assassinate the third-order Grand Contractor with the ability of a mortal was now carried up like an empty sack.

His hands drooped weakly, his head tilted to one side, his eyes were blank, and the blood on his blurred face was melted away by tear bubbles, and then frozen into ice crystals.

Second Lieutenant Millsap saw this scene from afar, he didn't care about the open wound on his body, rushed over quickly, grabbed the old soldier's hand, and tried to let him let go of Watson, but he tugged hard a few times, but he didn't move.

In this case, it seems that no one cares about the difference in military ranks anymore.

"What about Miss Nightingale?"

"Captured."

"Caught??"

Ulysses looked at Captain Millsap with a foolish look, and it was clear that for those demons, there should not be such an act of [taking people away].

"Let him go!" The young officer yelled at his commander, perhaps this was the first time in his life that he spoke in such a disrespectful tone to his commander: "I don't know why this happened, but it's not his fault, you should be able to see the number of demons, even if your people are here, the result won't change anything."

Nightingale has been captured!

That's it.

Everyone did their best! ”

Major General Ulysses listened to the other man's words, he let go of his hand, and with a pop, Watson fell to the snow, his spine barely supported his body, and he lay down in a dejected manner, his face covered with red ice crystals looking up at the sky.

The most beautiful person in the world is by his side, and he can only watch her disappear in front of him.

It is not easy for ordinary people to understand Watson's psychology at this moment, in fact, he doesn't understand it very much now, but he suddenly feels that he seems to have returned to his childhood, the moment he saw his parents' bodies falling on the beams of the house, he was also so powerless at that time, he didn't want to think about anything, and he didn't want to move at all.

There was silence again.

Yes, it sounds so ridiculous that countless demons have taken a person away, but it has already happened, and no matter who was here at the time, it is impossible to stop it.

What else can be done but silence?

The wounded who were alive had all been rescued, and with the modest medical equipment, the soldiers had done a simple bandage, and then built a windbreak ring with a war rush car, and lit a bonfire, such a huge volcanic eruption and avalanche, some nearby military bases must have noticed the vision, but they didn't know when they would be able to rush to the rescue.

That's it, I don't know how long it took.

Suddenly, several veterans who were resting next to the car seemed to sense something, and quickly stood up, and several people boarded the artillery platform on the upper level of the rushing car, aiming at a certain position in the wind and snow, Ulysses held the spear in his hand, and stared cautiously ahead.

Soon, a slender and huge silhouette appeared at the edge of the line of sight, and in the face of the bitter wind, it was difficult to reveal its true body.

It was a demon.

Almost all of the surviving Imperial soldiers knew this demon, so they all widened their eyes in disbelief, and then watched as the demon got closer and closer to them, until they came closer, and fell on the snow with a poof, and their heavy bodies fell into the snow.

At this point, the big hand that had been protecting him in front of him finally let go of a little.

Fear, Major General Ulysses was the first to come to his senses, and he came to the collapsed body, forcefully removed the demon's palm, and then, in the hollow between the palm and the chest, saw the man.

"Medic! Come on, he's alive! ”

He's alive!

There is no need to emphasize who [he] is, because everyone knows who he is, although he cannot be alive from any point of view.

Shylock. sherlock holmes

This demon is his, and just now the landslide and cracking, the volcanic eruption, the snow poured into the 10,000-year-old snow, and the divine light fell from the sky, all of which are definitely not something that can be resisted with human strength, and in that case, the only people who can survive are the soldiers around them now.

If there was any exception, it would be him.

"Medic !!"

There were no medics, but some soldiers who knew how to medic in the field rushed over and carried Sherlock out, and the moment they touched Sherlock's skin, they felt a cold pass from their fingertips to their hearts.

Prolonged hypothermia, hypoxia, shock-like effects due to slow blood flow in coma, starvation, and all vital signs have reached the limit of endangerment.

Even a powerful contractor can't really ignore all of this.

"Heart booster?!"

"It's gone!"

"What about the ventilator, I remember who had one in their car?"

"I just broke it and I can't use it!"

"! Stimulant! What about the hallucinogens you hidden, whether they work or not, you have to give him something! ”

"Crazy? That would kill him! ”

"If you don't do anything, he'll die too!"

"His heart is dying,! Damn it! ”

Some soldiers surrounded him, some took off their military doctors, wrapped their cold bodies, and invective and quarrels spread around, but in the face of such a situation, what can these people do, and the man in front of him has already proven that he can create many miracles, but at this moment, he just closed his eyes, as if to tell everyone in this way that he is not a god after all, he is not omnipotent.

What to do?

Who can just him?

"Please give way."

A faint voice rang out from the periphery of the crowd.

People turned around, and then they saw the military doctor who had lost his soul just now, he was now staggering, and walked towards this side, and on his pale face, those solidified blood-colored ice crystals were cracking and falling off little by little.

The crowd parted ways, allowing the medic to approach Sherlock, who then knelt feebly in front of him and pulled out a knife

"Poof!" thud, inserted into Sherlock's chest!

At this moment, several soldiers only felt a buzz in their brains, and subconsciously shouted and wanted to pounce, but they were hurriedly dragged by several veterans!

Homicide??

Of course, this was not killing, but the scalpel in Watson's hand stabbed directly into Sherlock's chest, and then began to cut along a subtle direction.

There were some exclamations and shouts in the crowd, but fortunately they were stopped by the soldiers under Major General Ulysses, Watson's expression was extremely calm, and the voices around him did not affect him in any way, but focused on the knife in his hand, which avoided all the key blood vessels and extended to a certain position on the lower edge of the sternum.

Then, in full view of everyone, he put his hand into the other's chest and grasped the dying heart.

Hard

Hard

His hand gripped the heart in a fixed rhythm, helping it force the cold blood across the body.

"Smoke."

"What?"

The people around him had stopped shouting, and looked at the extremely rough treatment in front of them in a daze, and were startled by this sudden word.

Some people reflected, and hurriedly took out a private cigarette from their jacket pocket, and wanted to light it for the other party, thinking that he had some habits and needed to take one during the treatment.

As a result, Watson shook his head:

"Yours can't do it, the kind of cigarette in this guy's left trench coat pocket, take three, boil the tobacco leaves in water, and smoke them into the syringe."

Watson said lightly, and everyone present understood his words, but they were shocked and motionless.

Because they seem to have thought of what the other person is going to do.

But! But!

"Go!"

It's a long, long dream, because the feeling of time is stretched out here for a long, long time.

This is another very short dream, because the things presented in the dream are so monotonous and boring, as if thousands of years have passed, and it will be the same as a few seconds, there will be no difference.

Just some green liquid, and some bubbles that keep popping up in front of you.

For more than thirty years, Sherlock has gone to hell every time he falls into a deep sleep, which has become a normal part of his life.

But since he came to the front line, this normal life has changed, because he can no longer go to hell in his sleep.

After thirty years, he was finally able to get a good night's sleep.

It's quite uncomfortable.

During this time, Sherlock finds himself in a state of deep coma, becoming a floating sight.

Here, he couldn't do anything, no arms, no legs, and naturally couldn't make any movements, he could only watch the bubbles in front of him keep rising, but he couldn't move his gaze, so he didn't know where these bubbles came from and where they went.

I don't know how long it has been

Suddenly, he heard the sound of the door being pushed open.

It was a strange sound, it seemed to be some kind of strange material for the door, Sherlock had never heard it, but he knew that it was a door open.

Immediately after, there was a sound of footsteps, the sound of high heels, but Sherlock was only an immovable perspective, so he couldn't turn in the direction of the sound to see who the owner of the voice was.

Fortunately, with the soft click of click, the sound of high heels is getting closer and closer.

Finally, through the turquoise liquid and bubbles, Sherlock saw a woman approaching her.

That's Nightingale

(End of chapter)