Operation Red Book

The iron door was locked tightly, and Holmes and Jacob tried to break it open several times but failed.

"The key is with the prison guard. We have to find him." Joshua said to everyone anxiously.

"But we don't know where he is."

"I'll go find him! And take a look at the situation!"

Thomas raised his right hand, and his high-spirited voice stood out in the silence.

After getting Holmes's consent, Thomas dissipated into fluid and disappeared through the crack in the door.

When everyone waited for two minutes, Bell frowned and said, "Why hasn't he come back yet? This shouldn't be the case. Thomas is very quick."

When everyone waited for five minutes, Jacob took out his pocket watch and wrapped it around his finger.

He spread his fingers, the dial swung regularly in the air, the hands spun rapidly, and an invisible time barrier rose in front of everyone, blocking the continuous influx of clear water outside the barrier.

After waiting for nearly ten minutes, they finally heard the sound of a key turning outside the iron gate.

The iron gate suddenly opened, and white light shone into the dark prison. The silhouette of Thomas, with his back to the white light, fell down.

Joshua hurriedly caught his small body. Thomas had a big cut on his chest and blood was constantly gushing out of it.

He coughed up a mouthful of blood and handed the bunch of keys in his hand to Holmes.

Seeing this, Belle hurriedly took out her suitcase and searched inside for a bandage to stop the bleeding and a potion to restore her body.

Thomas gasped weakly and tremblingly described the situation inside: "All the cell doors were opened, and everyone in uniform was dead... cough cough, except for the prison guard with the key. He had a big black... scythe, cough cough cough."

Thomas coughed up blood again. Bell first poured a bottle of shiny powder on Thomas' wound, and then coaxed him to drink a bottle of black potion.

"Thomas is fine now. I will continue his treatment here. What should I do inside?" Bell looked up and said to Holmes.

Holmes frowned, and his black hair fluttered in the wind.

He thought for a long time, then stood up and grabbed Jacob who was praying.

"Bell, contact Alexander and Luna for support, report the situation to Victor, and have them call Scotland Yard and inform Lestrade."

"Joshua, take good care of Thomas and make sure the treatment goes smoothly. At the same time, we will get support to the scene."

"Me...me?" Joshua pointed at himself in disbelief.

"That's you. You must have carried with you the weapon Hilda gave you." Holmes patted Joshua on the shoulder.

"I'll go buy some time for now. I'll leave this to you."

Joshua nodded heavily and took out a flashlight-shaped iron rod from his pocket.

Jacob picked up the Bible on the ground, tightened the pocket watch on his hand, opened the iron door and walked in with Holmes.

The iron gate slammed shut, and only Joshua and the other two were left in the huge open-air prison.

The thick fog blocked his vision. Joshua adjusted his black-framed glasses and stared at the black building in the distance.

Thomas had a bandage on his chest, and blood seeped through the white color, blooming on Thomas' body.

Thomas' upper body lay in Joshua's arms, his orange curly hair piercing Joshua's neck. What attracted his attention was Thomas' painful expression.

His eyes were closed tightly, his orange eyebrows that matched his hair color were furrowed, his golden eyelashes rested on his freckles, and he kept mumbling, as if he was trapped in a nightmare that he couldn't get out of.

"Ms. Bell, how is Thomas?" Joshua asked anxiously.

Belle was fiddling with the bottles and jars in her suitcase. She took the time to reply: "The scythe of the god of death cut his body. Thomas is physically fine, but he is suffering mentally."

"How could the Grim Reaper's scythe hurt his spirit..."

"The Grim Reaper's scythe harvests the souls of the dead. They will cut open the bodies of the dead, on the one hand to separate the soul from the body, and on the other hand to take out the revolving lantern of the dead. The Grim Reaper will take both to the first level of hell for judgment."

"But Thomas is so innocent and cheerful..."

Joshua gently ruffled Thomas's orange curls with his hands, hoping that he could bring him some comfort.

In the black prison, Holmes and Jacob closed the heavy iron door.

It was a pity that there were fights of all sizes going on in the prison and no one noticed Holmes and Jacob in the corner.

A man with a mouth full of sharp teeth was frantically biting the black wings of the man on the ground. The winged man didn't move, and green blood splattered all over the fanged man's face.

A man with an axe in his left hand chopped down hard on the fanged man's head.

The fang man's head split in two in an instant, and red blood and yellow brain matter mixed with green blood flowed slowly on the ground.

The axe man stretched his shoulders and neck, raised the axe and chopped at the snake man who was crawling on the ground with his 5-meter-long body twisted.

The snake man dodged the axe man's attack, curled up and wrapped around the axe man's whole body, opened his mouth 180 degrees, and bit off the axe man's head in one bite.

Before the snake man swallowed the head into his stomach, his and the axe man's bodies were completely engulfed by flames and soon burned to charcoal. The one who spewed out the flames was a shirtless man with flaming hair.

The prisoners in the prison showed off their skills and rushed around in the square prison, destroying many railings and stairs.

Holmes and Jacob dodged left and right, and at the critical moment Jacob's pocket watch came out and stopped the pointed-mouthed man who was bounced over.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, it really looks like the concrete House of Commons."

Holmes frowned and muttered as he and Jacob walked to Dalton's cell.

Dalton's cell door was ajar. Holmes pulled it open and walked in without any hesitation.

The glass that originally trapped Dalton had already turned into shards scattered all over the ground. Now what trapped Dalton were chains and a huge black sickle.

The sickle was about two feet long, with a sharp gleam on the tip and a circle of white skulls on the handle.

The end of the sickle was pressed against Dalton on the wall, and the other end of the handle was held in the hand of a man with long blond hair.

The man sat on a chair with a red cushion, wearing a black cloak, his left hand resting on the handle made of black iron, and the diamond on his index finger looked even more blood red against his golden hair.

Dalton, on the other hand, had changed from his previous gloomy look. He was now gritting his teeth as the sickle pressed against the wall. He was unable to move, and his gray eyes revealed fear and dread.

"You are Alod? You are a chicken with a head of feathers, and you are worthy of being called the god of death?"