A group of demon ecologists, led by Charles Darwin, have never been able to figure out why the human world is so similar to the creatures of hell.

The bones, the muscles, the way of life, the changes in the types of organisms brought about by evolution are almost identical.

Human technology has not yet advanced to the point where we can understand living things at a more subtle level, and if in a few years, people will realize that if two creatures are very similar, then they can be regarded as the same thing from each other in a microscopic sense.

Of course, no one would dare to say that demons and humans are the same thing, and perhaps Sherlock might have thought so, after all, he had seen a London bathed in blood in Hell, but his thoughts would not change people's preconceived notions in any way.

He was just glad that the demon still had a fat buildup under his skin, and those grease and sticky bones could easily burn when piled up, just like the fishermen who lived in the Reddeck Strait city and used fish oil as fuel.

Tearing open the extremely tough demon skin, tearing the hammered brain in half directly, deducting the fine brittle bone residue inside and throwing it into the fire in front of him, with a ——— sound, the flames were a little more intense.

In a makeshift pit in the snow, Sherlock tore a demon alive, ripping off its overly strong limbs and muscles, and roasting them on the flames.

A few minutes later, a portion of oily roasted devil's leg was made.

Sherlock takes a bite.

I found that the meat of this demon was too hard, and even if the muscle fibers were roasted and looked soft, it still felt like gnawing wood.

However, at this time, he didn't care about the taste, he really felt like he was chewing wood, and experienced the sharp scraping similar to wood thorns in his mouth, and the masseter muscles and these hard protein polymers produced the fiercest competition.

A man, eating a demon.

In the Empire's all-age textbooks, Dante went to hell for one year and seven months, surviving by eating the flesh and blood of demons, an act that was praised as an incomparably shocking and powerful manifestation as if it had reversed the inherent class of the food chain.

At this time, Sherlock finally knew that the demon was really hard to eat.

At least this one is hard to eat right now.

Fortunately, he had honed two meals under Nightingale's cooking skills, otherwise at this time, he might not be able to swallow it.

In the shallow snow cave, Sherlock was eating the flesh of the demon, and the crimson crouch beside him sat on the periphery of the blood cave, blocking a lot of wind and snow, and the shimmer of the campfire reflected a silent and huge shadow on the pale snow, looking up at the sky, there were several brighter stars that seemed to hang in the same place forever.

From this, it can be inferred that the large demon tide has been heading south.

And there, is the direction of the Devil's Gate.

The empire under the stars is still the same as it has been for hundreds of years.

At night, it rains in the ancient Roman city of France, and in the distant Antarctic continent, the terrible cold is enough to take anyone's life, but here people will be delighted by the coolness of a rain.

It seems that what people can't have in common with each other is not only joy and sorrow.

The rain poured down from the sky, gently beating on this city that had never been renovated in three hundred years, the ancient rock walls and stone pillars were washed by whispers, first leaking out the dark brown with a special sense of historical heaviness, some city workers finished the day's exhaustion, and finally returned to the dormitory to fall asleep, not caring about the rain on the bed would disturb their dreams, and even felt that this sound was very comfortable and very helpful to sleep.

However, in the old palace, which symbolized the supreme power of the empire, the rain that knocked on the window only made people irritated.

The atmosphere in the entire emperor's office area was immersed in a certain solemn and anxious mood, the electric lights above his head emitted too bright light, making the whole space too clear, people hurriedly walked by, those secretaries, government officials, and even some people in officer uniforms were all in a hurry, and the expressions on their faces were most directly displayed in the light, and some people in papal uniforms also appeared in this official residence, with the same solemn expressions, the ringing of telephones, the sound of hurried footsteps, the sound of flipping through documents, It's all mixed together, almost bursting the tense atmosphere.

Because just a few hours ago, a most urgent telegram had been sent from the shores ———of the Redek Strait, the Empire's defense zone against demonic attacks.

It was this telegram that plunged the entire Imperial Government into an atmosphere of extreme anxiety, and the Holy See, having received the same news from the Holy Religious Army at the front, immediately rushed to the political center of the Empire with the highest echelons of the Holy See closest to the ancient Roman city, which showed that this matter also caused them great worry and trouble.

And the news that this affected the two largest rights groups in the entire human society turned out to be just because of one person.

"Miss Nightingale disappeared during a magic tide encounter and is currently missing"

The news has been confirmed to be absolutely true, and its disappearance has been accompanied by volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, avalanches in the mountains, the burning of entire military bases, and even a series of reports of divine light falling from the sky.

These reports, in turn, highlight this authenticity as if it were a piece of nonsense.

Of course, no one can talk nonsense with such a thing, otherwise the entire imperial government and the Holy See will put this person in a blood prison until death.

And

Although the report uses very obscure words such as "missing" and "whereabouts unknown", everyone knows it.

Nightingale, who should have died.

The editor-in-chief of the newspaper was kicked open by a group of deacons of the Inquisition, and then dragged out of his trousers, until he finally put on a pair of trousers after a long day of secret transport by special train.

After getting the news of Nightingale's disappearance, or rather death, the tycoon of the imperial information industry didn't even have time to get angry, and his whole body staggered, leaning against the wall before he could barely stand up straight.

Ever since Nightingale arrived at the front-line theater, he had been in contact with the Strait garrison, and he knew how much the expeditionary force had taken to protect the girl, and although she had come to the front line of the expedition, the work area was always in the military base, which was a very safe place.

But no one expected those volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, avalanches, and magic tides to suddenly appear

What the fuck is going on?

Fortunately, at this moment, the ordinary people of the empire did not know what was happening, otherwise no one would dare to imagine that at the moment when the expedition had just ignited the flames of revenge for all mankind, the sudden death of that girl would cause a terrible mental blow to the people.

……

The pale light poured on the marble floor, and the rain outside the window seemed to feel the disappearance or death of a great girl, and the rain was sadly sprinkled on the sky, and Emperor Franklin sat at his desk, his face as heavy as the cold coffee in his hand.

The extremely government officials in front of him are the most respected, even feared, political bigwigs, who can decide the life and death of countless people with a single sentence, and can set off a financial storm with their fingers, but at this moment, they are all nervous and quiet, waiting.

Franklin has been the new emperor of the empire for almost a year, and during this time, he has always adhered to the rigor and gentleness of a scientific worker, but sitting in this seat, he will gradually adapt to the bearing and way of thinking that a person at the peak of power should have.

Moreover, because of the wisdom of his scientific research scholars, he learns everything very quickly.

Now he has fully established himself as a very qualified leader.

With a "click", he took off the pair of glasses that he had worn for decades, threw them on the desk, and then rubbed his sour eyes:

"Mountain avalanche? Didn't the geologists of the expeditionary force have already chosen the safest direction when they were drawing up the route, and the snow in the mountains along the way could not even shake a single point under the bombardment and vibration of tens of thousands of shells, why did there be an avalanche?

Also, why are there volcanic eruptions on the Antarctic continent?

The entire continental shelf of that place has been tightly stitched for millions of years, where did the volcano come from? ”

As an academic, he certainly knows scientific knowledge that many politicians don't know, so no matter how he thinks about it, he can't understand why this is happening.

Several officials in front of them were shocked by the other party's tone and lowered their eyes slightly, not daring to raise their heads, and finally responded very worriedly:

"I heard from some surviving soldiers on the front line that someone saw a light falling from the sky before the big avalanche."

"A light?" Franklin frowned slightly: "What could it be?" The Light maintains an indifferent attitude to the extinction of the human race, could it be interested in a snow-capped mountain on the Antarctic continent?

Or is it some kind of meteor that does not melt into the atmosphere, falling vertically from the sky and crashing directly into the depths of the earth's mantle? ”

Miss Nightingale died under the protection of the front, and Emperor Franklin could not maintain the demeanor of a scholar, his voice was not very loud, but he could clearly feel that there was a suppressed roar between the lines!

No one could answer the Emperor's question, because they themselves could not understand it.

But everyone knows that all the anger and questioning that is being done now is to no avail, that things have happened, and that all the hope now is actually pinned on the self-deceptive words of "missing" and "missing".

Nightingale should be dead, under the demon tide, how can a girl without any fighting ability survive

But. After all, no one saw the girl's body, so even if there was a 1 in 10 million probability, from a mathematical point of view, it was not a certain death after all.

But

But in this case, how can we save this girl?

From the telegram just sent back from the front-line war zone, the most professional military reconnaissance team has analyzed it, in that environment, the traces of the demon tide have long been buried, and the military base has been flooded, resulting in that area has become a completely blank no man's land, if you want the soldiers to reach that place, and want to continue to move forward to find the whereabouts of the target, you must establish a new stronghold.

Otherwise, the supply line will not be supplied, and the soldiers will go deep into the center of the Antarctic continent, and even if they are not trampled to death by the demons, they will only starve to death.

There was a dead silence in the entire office area, and His Majesty Franklin pursed his thick lips, as if trying to suppress his anger and unwillingness.

Can't even this last chance of delusional thinking be grasped?

Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps outside the door, and then an administrator of the ancient Roman city pushed open the door of His Majesty Franklin's office.

At this time, those who dared to break in like this undoubtedly brought extremely important news.

"Don't salute, say it!" Franklin was a gentle and humble man, at least on the surface, so he was rarely heard exploding.

"Front-line telegrams, a major general-level officer in the Reddeck Strait mentioned that someone has begun to track Miss Nightingale's trail." The staff said breathlessly.

"What?"

This news was undoubtedly a pleasant surprise, and Franklin sat up slightly: "Whose troops, how many people are there in the track?" ”

The staff member hesitated for a moment, then flipped through the telegram in his hand, finally confirmed its contents, and then responded: "There are no troops, only one person." ”

"What?! Just one person? ”

The person in charge of the Imperial Information Bureau on the side had a very bad face, in fact, the staff who read this telegram was also very depressed, he didn't understand, why did this kind of thing still need to send a telegram, did the people in the military region think that only such a person would have any effect if he went to save Nightingale?

But this telegram came from a front-line officer with the rank of major general, so he had to report the news to His Majesty the Emperor.

"That's what it says on the telegram." He explained: "This person's name is. Shylock. Sherlock holmes. ”

The staff member who circulated the telegram deliberately read out the words before and after, and also emphasized that the name of the major general who sent the telegram was Ulysses, and he knew that these political bigwigs were not in a very good mood at present, so he had to avoid being affected by their anger.

However, he was stunned for a moment, because he found that the whole office, as if from a certain moment just now, suddenly fell silent.

(End of chapter)