The Holy Light is the foundation of human existence in this world, and everyone should worship the Holy Light, which is a fact that no one can deny.

Then by the way, the servants of God should also be admired.

Of course, Watson knows this, but he just doesn't like those who are high up and naturally want to enjoy everyone's respect.

This may be due to his pursuit of beautiful things, after all, those divine servants are too ugly, and he knows that his dislike is wrong, but he does not want to change it at all.

Just thinking that if Sherlock was still alive, these two guys might not even have a chance to stand in front of their dorm room.

He walked towards the two men step by step, a scalpel hidden in his hand, rubbing up and down in the sleeve with the teasing of his fingers, continuing to provoke some of his emotions.

In fact, after these hundreds of days and nights, he seemed to feel the mentality of being discharged from the army a few years ago, a little tired, a little bored, if it weren't for Miss Nightingale's lack of strength at that time, he might have left the front line soon after Sherlock's death, found a remote place, and continued to be a small-town doctor.

And now, Nightingale has matured too much, and he also faintly feels that the woman who once clenched her fists in fright when she saw the demon tide has become a real hero in her own right.

Watson is a man who has no relatives and no friends, and he said a long time ago that he doesn't even have a legitimate reason to live in this world, so he can only rely on his own pursuit of beautiful things, and keep telling himself that he will not die.

And now, he has seen the most thrilling scenes in the world, and he has been with the most beautiful people in the world, and he feels satisfied when he looks back on the past years.

But in addition to his own pursuits, he also has some suppressed depression.

For example, in this year, he knew that these divine servants were sparing no effort to clear the people who participated in that incident, although Watson's relationship with those people was not close, but when he thought of them being deliberately sent to a dangerous war zone, and died in obscurity in a place he couldn't see.

Watson's heart was very unhappy.

Therefore, he walked up to a divine servant step by step, and at this time, the heartfelt smile on his face would definitely be instantly fascinated if a female soldier saw it, but a divine servant raised his head and saw something extremely terrifying through the gap between his narrowed eyes.

He didn't know what that terrible thing was, and subconsciously, he opened his mouth to say something.

However, as soon as the airflow crossed his vocal cords, a strong stimulus poured directly into his trachea, and he felt the warm liquid flow backwards into the airway, and then directly into the lungs, bringing waves of violent spasms along the way.

He began to choke, reflexively covering his throat with his hands, wanting to shout, but unable to make any sound, his gaze swept over the man in front of him, and he was horrified to see that the other party's fingertips were holding a scalpel, and there was a clear trace of blood on the blade.

Immediately after, the crack in the divine servant's throat began to drip blood, blood, spurt blood, and he couldn't cover it, and he fell backwards in pain, and then kept staring at the two deformed calves, accompanied by the sound of grunting ~ gurgling ~ gurgling ~ , and soon, he stopped moving.

It was a quiet process, for the servant had not shouted from beginning to end, and nothing came out of his throat except the smell of blood and the grunt of bubbles.

But there were countless thunderclaps around them, and in the minds of those who saw this scene, in the cochlea, the heart could not contain the deafening loud roar, and began to convulse, and the eyes turned black, and some soldiers even had weak legs and sat directly on the ground.

Among all of them, it seemed that the one who could hold on was the other divine servant next to him.

But this is not because he has a high psychological quality, but because his brain does not reflect what is happening at all.

Having been in that temple for too long, held up in the highest position by the entire empire, his mind made it impossible for him to comprehend the picture in front of him, as if he had seen a little rabbit and suddenly jumped into the sky and bit off the head of an eagle.

It's a mouth, it's not good.

So he was still silent, dazed, and felt like he had had a somewhat ridiculous dream, until a few drops of blood splashed on his face, and he finally reacted, and then screamed, and poofed to his knees in fright.

Watson looked at him calmly, feeling that the frightened look and the sickly face made the person in front of him even uglier, so he frowned with some disgust, waved the knife in his hand, and slashed at the other party's throat again.

But the man was a little short, and he knelt on the ground, the angle was not easy to find, and the man subconsciously raised his hand to block it, so that Watson did not cut his neck, but the wrist that stretched out to resist the blade was cut off by the roots, and the muscles and bones inside were suddenly exposed to the cold air, and the blood seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then it spurted out with a half-beat spurt.

This scene reminded Watson of the inexplicable volcanic eruption he encountered more than a year ago, and thought of the bastard who died saving Nightingale, and he smiled bitterly.

The divine servant with a broken hand didn't care about the pain, and even crawled backwards, and some soldiers also recovered from the panic, they didn't know what was happening, but they still rushed up to catch Watson, but when they thought of the identity of the other party and the scalpel in his hand, one by one they didn't dare to get too close, so they could only be anxious, extremely anxious to separate him from the screaming servant, one by one suppressed the horror in their eyes, and forcibly put on a posture of trying to appease, signaling Watson to put the knife down first.

Watson smiled, his mood was very calm at this time, and he knew very well what he was doing, so he didn't need to be appeased at all, and exhaled softly, as if he had finally spit out all the boredom of the year.

He lit a cigarette and took a comfortable puff.

A series of dense footsteps could be heard in the distance, followed by a group of soldiers with guns in their hands, all pointing at Watson, shouting to lay down their weapons.

Watson gently threw the knife in his hand to the ground and waved his hand.

"Don't bother, I'll go by myself."

With that, he stepped out of the crowd under the aim of a group of guns, and walked towards the camp's confinement cell.

12 hours later.

In the conference room of the battle situation in this newly established military base, several divine servants did not know how long they had been sitting here, and they did not say much during the whole time, but when someone asked them for their opinion, they replied with the same words in an extremely cold voice.

"Will John. Watson, handed over to the Temple of Light. ”

In the middle of them, sat the priest with a stiff figure, his wrist was bandaged with blood, and a pale palm was generously placed on the table in front of him, the wound of this servant had been healed under Nightingale's ability, but he insisted on not removing the bandage, and continued to wrap it, as if as long as this thing was there, he could become the absolute leader of this meeting without any scruples, and no one could contradict his demands.

The person in charge of the military base sat in his seat with a gloomy face, flanked by two communicators, which were running at this time, and two public audio and communication systems were connected to General Patton's expeditionary party at this time, so that they could participate in the whole meeting.

It's just that the commander-in-chief of the expeditionary force didn't say anything from beginning to end, just listened, and some people even wondered if General Patton was on the other side of the communicator.

Actually, there is nothing to talk about in this meeting.

Killed a Servant of God.

Attempted to kill another servant, but chopped off one of the other's hands.

Half of the camp saw this, and the entire military base heard the heart-rending wails of pain.

Needless to say, the status of the divine servant is needless to say, anywhere in the empire, even if it is accidentally collided and a divine servant is injured, there is a possibility that he will be directly executed, and the murder of the divine servant is still in a place like the front line of the war, then Watson's end is almost doomed.

"I don't agree." Miss Nightingale sat directly across from the servants, she didn't look up, deliberately avoided the servants' gaze, and said lightly, "John. Watson is my safe guardian and I can't be without him by my side so. I applied for a stay of his execution, at least until the end of the expedition. ”

In the past year, Nightingale's growth rate has exceeded everyone's expectations, and the war has honed this woman to be extremely tenacious, but at this moment, she still has no way to ask those divine servants to release her, let alone ask the front-line military to pardon Watson's crimes.

Even if she was Nightingale, she was just trying to procrastinate with all her might.

"Lord Nightingale." One of the servants said calmly, and they took the initiative to respond to her words after not talking much, which was enough to show their respect for the woman in front of them: "But I want to correct that we are not talking about the punishment of John. Watson was sentenced to death, and instead demanded that he be handed over to the Temple of Light. ”

The calm voice revealed a gloomy and terrifying heart-wrenching sound.

The death penalty was no longer sufficient for these servants of God, and they demanded that they deal with John in private. Watson, they want to take him to the Temple of Light, but if this is the case, then who knows what kind of things they will do to Watson, and at that time, who knows what terrible criminal punishment Watson will suffer, he can't survive, he can't die.

Nightingale's fist under the table was already clenched white, and there was no emotional change on her face, but she still took a step back.

"This happened in the camp of the Military District, John. Watson was a medical officer on the front line, and his conduct was serious and had a bad impact, and should be court-martialed."

"Nope." Another servant interrupted Nightingale's words: "He was discharged from the army 7 years ago, and he came to the front line again as a member of the accompanying medical team, so he has no military position, if I have to say, he is at most a field volunteer." ”

There was a moment of silence.

"Miss Nightingale, we respect you, so please stop doing unnecessary things, kill the servants of the Light, no matter how hard you try, the fate of that person will not change anything."

Nightingale slapped the table hard, and she stood up, unable to give any reason to refute it, but to express her conclusion strongly:

"I don't agree."

This time, no one responded to him.

The entire conference room fell silent.

Long

"Alright, adjourn!"

In the communicator, the voice of General Patton finally came out, he did not say any conclusions, did not indicate which side he was on, and even from beginning to end, he just said such a sentence.

Immediately afterward, the communicator heard the sound of the signal being cut off.

People walked out of the room one after another, it was cold outside, and Nightingale was usually followed by Watson, but now, she was alone. One walked to the confinement room of the camp, and there were two soldiers standing in front of the door, they looked at each other, and then took the initiative to open the door of the confinement room.

In fact, this door has never been locked.

Nightingale walked in, and then came to Watson, his expression a little dripping.

"You've gone a little too far this time."

"yes." Watson smiled: "But don't worry about it, I know that you are a person who respects life, but my psychology is more or less abnormal, so please don't be sad because of this kind of thing, I don't regret it, and even I still think that it was quite refreshing at that time." ”

Nightingale was very angry when she heard this, she seemed to be about to shed tears, and then laughed because of the other party's relaxed tone, all kinds of complicated thoughts made her a little confused, and subconsciously sighed:

"You're really crazy"

"You two, you're fucking lunatics!"

"Aqiu~~"

Sherlock sneezed.

At the other end of the space-time rift, a full eight hundred years have passed, and no matter how strong his reasoning ability is, it is impossible to know that in another time period, a beautiful woman is crying, smiling bitterly and scolding herself.

He rubbed his nose and felt that the smoke around him was indeed a bit big.

It had been a whole day since this breakout battle on the edge of the city, and the tenacity of the Survivor Alliance army was somewhat beyond his expectations, and the entire city was already in chaos, but he didn't expect to be able to draw so many troops to stop him.

And, after a day of fierce fighting, he found that it seemed that the armies of other places had begun to deploy in this direction, and these people had completely ignored the defensive lines of the demons in other places, and were desperate to hunt him down.

Sherlock himself was a little surprised, it turned out that his life was so valuable in the eyes of this group of guys.

The people around him fell one by one, and although the guns circulating in the underground dark channels were useful, they still couldn't compare with the weapons of the army, and those outlaws and killers did have some skills, but they couldn't compete with the professionally trained army.

The battle has been able to survive until now, mostly thanks to the demons controlled by Sherlock.

But even so, the situation of the war is still gradually declining.

Although the number of demons in the second stage is large, it is still much worse than the large demons in the third stage, but now there are only three third-order great demons in his hands, and whether it is individual strength or combat quality, it is incomparable to his own crimson.

"Hey, if only Crimson was by his side now, even if he couldn't beat it, that guy might be able to carry me out by himself."

Sherlock couldn't help but think

(End of chapter)