I founded Tantric Buddhism in London

Time goes back to one hour, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-six seconds ago.

At this time, Watson was still holding a short celebratory party in the hospital dormitory building, and nearly half of the Crossroads secret believers seemed to be immersed in a moment of drunkenness - even though most of them were silently cursing the lucky John Watson in their hearts, they pretended to be happy for him on the surface.

And Winfreys Morgan was still staying in the dean's office on the top floor of the hospital, as if he had never left the place, or perhaps no believers could see the figure of the leader when he left - but it was precisely because he had been staying in this not-so-spacious dean's office that he could see everything going on inside the hospital and within a 500-yard radius around it.

Including the simple cocktail party held in the dormitory building behind the hospital at this moment, the heartbeats that were more eager and excited than before were clearly presented in Winfreys' mind.

The smile on his face seemed meaningful, but he just sipped the still warm coffee in the cup. The rich and fragrant dark red coffee liquid was mixed with pure clear gold medicine liquid. After drinking this cup of coffee, he could invigorate his spirit and activate his vitality.

Compared with the busy/happy leader and other church members, the staff responsible for the night duty of the hospital seemed a little bored.

The hospital's business was particularly quiet tonight. Since the handover of the day and night shifts, almost no one came to consult. Only one or two customers approached the triage desk every half an hour, and they were all minor illnesses such as mild colds, dizziness, and headaches. They only took some painkillers and left in a hurry-although they said they were in a hurry to go back to work, their pale faces had exposed their true purpose-these people were undoubtedly drug addicts wandering the streets.

"Alas... It's so boring. If it's like this tonight, I might as well apply to Mr. Nello to transfer to the headquarters to work overtime." The young lady in charge of the triage desk complained.

She had been sitting at the triage desk for an hour and a half without moving. She even dozed off out of boredom, and recovered a lot from working at the underground headquarters during the day.

However, as the fatigue faded, the desires of her heart began to stir.

Such a boring daily life made this energetic heart reader feel as if there were thousands of insects and ants gnawing at her heart, especially when she was the only one on duty at the triage desk at night. She was so bored that she couldn't help but dance briskly behind the triage desk. At first, she maintained a dignified and elegant sitting posture, and only her toes hidden under the table were tapping the ground gently. But as time passed, she hadn't seen a patient who came to consult for more than half an hour, and the restless secret believer was getting more and more bored.

She had adapted to the rhythm of life in the cult, and the busyness and restlessness had been deeply engraved in her mind.

Suddenly idle at this moment, the lady at the triage desk didn't know what to do. She just felt as if there was a breath stuck in her chest that couldn't be released, making her feel full of energy but with nowhere to use it.

"Exhale - inhale - exhale -"

"Calm down, you must calm down. According to the master's teachings, my mental state is very dangerous. It is very likely that I can't suppress my restless mind because I suddenly have nothing to do. I must learn to calm down and relax my tense nerves... Tonight is so free, maybe it's a good opportunity for me to practice adjusting my spirit."

Thinking so, she sat back at the triage desk, closed her eyes slightly to slow down her breathing rhythm, and her mind seemed to have gained a rare tranquility... It turns out that it feels good to not work occasionally.

Charlotte Holmes looked at the secret believers who were dancing and jumping around at a distance of 560 yards and then sitting quietly. Her brows seemed calm and solemn. She put down the telescope in her hand and said softly: "Report the current situation." "Yes!" X211 standing next to her replied immediately. He has been completing the work of detective assistant for Mr. John Watson, who is lurking in the cult. He opened the notebook in his hand, which recorded every report information of this eradication operation in detail. "So far, after a total of 17 undercover visits today, we can confirm that there are only seven inpatients in the Crossroads Cult, three of whom are disguised logistics operators."

"And we have intercepted a total of 56 people who intended to go to the Crossroads Hospital for treatment, and have given them appropriate amounts of money to persuade them to go to other clinics - there are no other clinics in the hospital at this time."

"And through the special telescope in the bureau to observe the dormitory building behind the hospital, we can see that Mr. Watson just carried a box of premium whiskey into the cafeteria area and is currently holding a simple cocktail party inside - this part of the action was not recorded in your previous plan steps, Miss Charlotte, but I presumptuously speculate that perhaps Mr. Watson wants to help us relax the vigilance of these cultists?"

The female detective just shook her head in disappointment when she heard such a superficial reasoning. "This is a failed deduction. X211, you really are not suited to be a detective... You have also read the characteristics and danger files of cultists in the bureau. You should know that cultists have vitality far beyond that of ordinary people. They are also more resistant to alcohol or toxins than ordinary people... How could Watson try to paralyze the cultists with alcohol? In my opinion, this is just an excuse. The next step should be to go to Nello Bacchus' bedroom under the pretext of some celebration and find out the password for tonight for us."

"However, Watson did not disclose this part in detail. I am also a little curious about how he was able to convince the deputy leader who was severely brainwashed by Winfrey Morgan for his reasons... He just said that Nello has not completely lost himself. , and still maintain a good relationship with him... Judging from the previous incidents at the sailing ship and the tobacco tavern, there is not much flaw in his statement. "

"There are no big flaws... Miss Charlotte, do you mean that Mr. Watson might be rebellious? He might be hiding something?"

When the female detective faced X211's question, she did not answer or explain. She just shook her head slowly and did not continue the topic... She looked at the night farther away, as if she could see the thin figure, although her legs and feet were already worn out. He regained his flexibility, but at the cost of his left eye.

Watson... always seems to be covered in bruises.

However, is this injury just a ploy to deal with Winfreth, or is it a ploy that also involves me... I hope this is just a moment of paranoia on my part.

Charlotte shook her head gently, temporarily letting go of the part of her self-awareness that was always used to doubting everything. She turned back to face the waiting Anti-Suppression Bureau officers and ordered in a deep voice:

"Send the order, let the logistics operators continue to maintain the blockade, and don't let any innocent civilians enter the Cross Road Hospital! At the same time, let the extermination team on the other side of the river bend check the status again."

Charlotte Holmes stood up slowly. She was now standing on the top of an empty apartment building, in a tent wrapped in a dark curtain.

She slowly walked out of the command room and stared into the distance. Her eyes seemed to be able to penetrate the thick night, travel a distance of 560 yards, and land on the top floor of the gray-white building in the distance. The dean's room was also hidden in the dark curtains. .

"Two hours later, the annihilation operation of the Crossroads Religion will officially begin!"

However, just as the female detective finished speaking, there was a warm sound of horse hooves hitting the ground from behind, and the blockade was suddenly breached by a rampaging carriage!

The buttocks of the four skinny brigade horses had been torn apart by the coachman's whipping, and the four pairs of horses' eyes were filled with painful bloodshot eyes. They neighed and wailed wildly, but they could never beg for the coachman's mercy. The red-faced coachman just He waved the riding crop wantonly, whipping the horse's thick and bloody buttocks again and again.

The logistics operator in charge of vigilance has raised the crossbow in his hand, aiming at the four carriages that are rushing towards the blockade. As long as Charlotte Holmes gives the order, he can use the crossbow to silently shoot those carriages. A rampaging carriage made a sieve like a honeycomb.

Several glances asking for permission looked at the female detective. The steel crossbow arrows were already placed on the tight bowstring, and they could kill this intruder who came from nowhere with just one command.

The female detective frowned slightly, and her keen eyes were fixed on the coachman, whose expression was fanatical and seemed to be dementia. She saw that this innocent civilian, who was obviously affected by the power of the cultists, had a thick hemp rope tied around his waist. The rope tied the coachman and the other person behind him tightly together, like a father carrying an infant baby on his back.

From her point of view, she could not see the appearance of the person being carried by the demented driver. It was obvious that the person was extremely petite, perhaps a woman.

"Do you want to use the lives of civilians as a cover to break through the blockade?"

The necklace under her neck seemed to glow with an imperceptible glow. The female detective's slightly frowned brows suddenly relaxed, and a trace of perseverance and determination flashed in her eyes.

"You underestimate my determination!"

She raised her arms upright and raised her arms to the sky, her fingers clasped together like a knife, like a beheading knife about to fall.

The logistics operators holding heavy crossbows put their fingertips on the trigger, waiting for the commander's decapitating knife to fall, and their fingertips would also be pressed.

However, the female detective suddenly caught a sharp glimpse of a strand of pale hair flowing out from behind the demented coachman, twisting and swaying wildly in the wind, like a desperate little hand asking for help.

The beheading knife did not fall after all, but remained swaying in the air, just like the heart of the knife holder.

The solemn look on the female detective's eyebrows became more intense. Based on the strand of unusually pale hair, she had already deduced the identity of the person being carried by the demented coachman.

"It's Anna Morgan...the daughter of Winfrey."

"Why would she, who was paralyzed in bed and unable to move, appear here, on a carriage trying to break through the blockade?"

"This extermination mission... it seems that an unknown third party has appeared... Which force is responsible for the sudden appearance of Anna?"