Dante has no military rank, nor is he a political dignitary with command, but he just told the soldiers in the ancient Roman city that there is no need to patrol tonight, so 70% of the city's security personnel have left their posts directly.

They didn't even know why they were doing this, but it didn't matter, Mistress Dante had spoken anyway.

So, a few minutes later, the door to the Emperor's mansion was pushed open, and more than 30 deacons of the Adjudication Division entered the building, and no patrol officers stopped them, and no one reported to the higher officers, who may have reported, but were ordered to let them go.

These papal law enforcement officers, dressed in dark blue robes and blood-colored notices, walked through the uninhabited corridor, and walked all the way to the reception room where Sherlock was, during which they crossed the old butler standing at the edge of the corridor, and the old man who had been with Mr. Franklin for half his life flashed a trace of displeasure in his eyes, probably as a butler, which made him naturally disgusted with these people who broke into the master's house without telling him.

But there was still nothing to be done, because it was Dante's will.

In this way, Sherlock was surrounded, and the whole process, both the people of the Inquisition Division and Sherlock were surprisingly calm, the handcuffs made of special steel were firmly cuffed to Sherlock's wrists, and a needle mixed with powerful demonic sedatives and soothing potions pierced Sherlock's veins, and the cold liquid entered his body, which was used to limit the terrifying power of the third-order contractor.

Sherlock didn't resist, and Dante stood in front of him, although he was already one of the most powerful contractors in the world, he knew very well that he still couldn't defeat the old man in front of him.

He raised his hand and let the person next to him tie his joints with high-strength restraints, and then tied a 10-centimeter-thick restraint device to his ankle with a thick steel bar in between.

When I was at the bottom of the blood prison, I didn't have this kind of treatment.

Finally, after all the tools had been used on him, the deacons of the Inquisition Division seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but the strange atmosphere in the room reached a climax.

The empire is a place that respects the strong, especially the army, or the Judgment Division, and everyone knows very well what kind of person the man in front of him is, especially after he returns from hell, he has become an existence almost comparable to human heroes, so the deacons do not have the usual arrogant posture at all, but they only feel respect and even fear for Sherlock, and when they see him tied up as a prisoner, or Lord Dante personally ordered, these people's hearts are about to tremble, I don't dare to speculate at what happened during this period.

After a minute, they silently escorted Sherlock out of the room, then through the hallways, across the courtyard, and finally into a specially modified armored combat vehicle.

At this point, only Lord Dante and Emperor Franklin were left in the entire reception room of the official residence.

For a moment, the old man's kind and calm face seemed to show incomparable exhaustion, and his body, which was not very bent just now, suddenly stiffened, and let out a sigh like that of countless old men.

In fact, Dante enlisted in the army at the age of 16, fought on the battlefield until he was nearly 40 years old, and then went deep into the Antarctic continent alone, broke into the gates of hell, and then returned to the world, and it has been more than 30 years.

In this era, people who can live to the age of 80 are considered to be long-lived, and the age of soldiers who can retire healthily on the front line is generally only about 60 years old.

Dante is approaching 80 years old, and his strong contractual abilities have not increased his lifespan.

The moment of a lifetime of racial responsibility gave him unprecedented pressure and self-blame, he was afraid of death, afraid of making mistakes, afraid that after he closed his eyes, the human society that he had guarded for decades would suddenly collapse.

But all these emotions, no one else can empathize, and in the end they can only turn into a sigh.

"Where are they going to take Sherlock?"

Mr. Franklin, who had not said a word from beginning to end, suddenly asked.

"Just go to the prison of the Inquisition for a while, no one will do anything to him, I just want to give him some time to think more, and give the responsibility and glory to a young man who is accustomed to being free and easy, and he really doesn't accept it so quickly"

Dante said softly, suddenly feeling a little dry in his mouth, probably just smelling the smell of blues cigarettes that he hadn't smoked for a long time, and suddenly, he realized that Sherlock was really similar to himself.

This thought rippled a little in his heart, and then quickly expanded, and the old man subconsciously began to recall the few times he and Sherlock had met over the years, the newspaper reports about each other, the newspaper messenger's evaluation of this guy, and the fact that he had broken into the gates of hell and disappeared for more than a year before returning like a god.

The old man raised his head and looked at the empty seat in front of him, and somehow, suddenly, a sense of powerlessness and loneliness came to his heart, and this feeling lasted for a long, long time, until he reacted, and then looked to the side, and found that Franklin was gone, and there stood an old butler about the same age as himself.

"What about His Royal Highness the Emperor?" Dante asked subconsciously.

"Your Highness still has important business tomorrow and needs to rest, so I don't want to disturb you, so I left first." The old butler lowered his gaze slightly, and responded.

"Oh." Dante nodded in dismay

"Are you going to stay overnight at the mansion tonight?"

"No, me. I went out for a walk. Dante continued, getting up from the couch with difficulty, and walked alone and without any support, through the rooms and corridors where Sherlock had been escorted, and finally pushed open the door of the mansion in silence, and his back disappeared into the night of the old city.

A few kilometers away, an equally lonely armored fighting vehicle drove through the streets of the city, and the surrounding buildings looked so majestic and heavy during the day, but at night, they looked so cold and thin, as if the starlight in the sky could not fall on the surface of those stone walls.

Yes, such a central area that carries the political operation of the entire empire is as cold as a machine.

Friends, lovers, and families can all have feelings, but the society as a whole cannot have feelings, because there will be deviations, deviations. There is an element of instability.

The autumn wind passed, occasionally bringing down a few leaves that did not have time to turn yellow, and the light from the few stars in the sky was submerged under the miserable white street lamps before landing, and some government workers who had just had time to get off work were wrapped in coats and walked through the night road intertwined with light and dark, watching a car drive from the direction of the emperor's mansion, and then from the side of the road, new armored combat vehicles continued to merge in, more and more, until a convoy was formed, quietly moving towards the wilderness outside the city.

An executive officer of the adjudication department sat in the dark carriage, looking at the man who was tightly bound in front of him, and the panic and uneasiness in his heart never dissipated.

Just around his waist, there was a large-caliber hand cannon filled with hot melt bombs, his arm was always on his waist, not daring to stay away a little, the entire vehicle was filled with demon sedatives, and even in several cars around, there were also several third-order great demons in case of accidents.

In normal times, it was hard for him to imagine that this kind of formation was just to escort a person who had already been bound.

But now, he still felt dangerous, and he didn't even dare to look at the face of the person in front of him for a long time.

That's when it happened

"Hehe~"

The person in front of him laughed, that Sherlock. Mr. Holmes actually laughed!

It's terrifying, a few drops of cold sweat oozed from the executive's forehead in an instant, his hand pressed on the hand cannon, and his heart beat wildly.

"What are you laughing at?"

The executive officer asked.

"It's nothing, I just feel that the past few years have been very fulfilling, so I'm very satisfied." Sherlock twisted his stiff neck, causing the shackles on his body to rattle, and his hands were tightly cuffed, but fortunately, his fingers could still move, so he stretched out two fingers: "Your Excellency the Executive, I have a box of cigarettes in my left jacket pocket, can you please light one for me?" ”

The executive's face became even more nervous, and he shook his head: "Sorry sir, if it is not a very urgent situation, I can't get close to you, let alone touch you, this is the rule." ”

Sherlock's expression was very serious: "Believe me, I'm in a good mood right now, so I need a blues to keep my mood going, this is the most urgent situation for yours at this stage, this entire fleet, and even the entire empire."

Please light a cigarette for me.

I need to keep my mood alive."

However, the executive in front of him couldn't understand how a blues cigarette could be connected to the entire empire, he was so nervous that his heart was beating out of his throat.

Subconsciously, he tightly grasped the hand cannon on his waist:

"Mr. Holmes, please be quiet, we have been tasked with sending you to the Inquisition, in the meantime."

"I want the blues." Sherlock interrupted, "He's in my pocket." ”

"I'm sorry sir."

The executive in front of him finally became a little more stern: "Also, please, be quiet! ”

So.

Shylock

Silence fell.

(End of chapter)