The Split-Actress in Conan's World

Conan carefully chose not to reply.

Even though he had learned a little German, there was still a gap between him and the real native speakers, and he was afraid that he would let the cat out of the bag as soon as he opened his mouth.

And he was confused by being addressed as "Mr. Sherlock".

After waiting quietly outside the door for a while, seeing that he had no intention of replying, the owner of the voice did not rush, but reminded him: "Please don't forget to have breakfast downstairs, His Highness Hohenzollern is waiting for you."

After speaking, he left.

Conan sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about the meaning of this sentence and the identity of the person who said it.

Could it be a maid?

However, the attitude towards him did not seem to be respectful, just ordinary politeness.

Or is this not Sherlock's territory?

That was possible; he might just be a guest of "His Highness the Hohenzollern."

But speaking of the name Hohenzollern...

This isn't Prussia, is it?

Conan decided to go down and take a look. There would be no progress if he stayed in the room all the time. He had to find a breakthrough.

He also planned to further understand his current situation.

Having made the decision, Conan searched around the room and found a formal suit from the closet.

He was a little surprised because it was a khaki windbreaker, and he also found a deerstalker hat of the same color on the coat rack nearby.

Now all he needs is a pipe to become a real "Sherlock".

Conan smiled wryly and changed his clothes.

After tidying himself up, he took a deep breath, opened the door and walked out.

Then he realized that it was not the room's decoration style that was retro, but the whole house was in a retro style, or perhaps at this moment, this style should not be called retro.

The corridor was lit by oil lamps. Not only was the light dim, but there was also a smell that he was not used to, like burnt plastic.

Conan stopped, squatted down and knocked on the varnished wooden floor. The echo was obvious.

From what the man just said, we can tell that this is at least on the second floor, the floor is made of wood, and it is hollow, which shows that the water-repellent and moisture-proof technology has matured and has been put into use in people's livelihood.

According to preliminary speculation, it should be around the 17th or 18th century, not as old as the Middle Ages.

After meeting the Hohenzollern, I will have to ask him indirectly and tentatively to see if I can ask him about the current social and economic situation, so that the time to be released will be more accurate.

Of course, it would be better if you could ask the year directly.

Walking in buildings that are hundreds of years old is also a novel experience for Conan.

But the experience didn't last long, as he had just walked down the stairs when he was discovered by a maid with her apron hanging.

The maids of this era were different from the maids in later literary works who wore black and white short skirts. They wore a white apron that covered most of their bodies, and plain thick cloth underneath. Their entire bodies were covered tightly, except for their sleeves which only reached above their elbows to facilitate cleaning and working.

And not young either.

The wealthier the family, the more maids there are in the house. At this time, a special head maid is needed to share some of the housekeeper's work and manage the servant team. Based on experience, the head maid is often an elderly person who has worked for a long time.

The one in front of you is him.

The head maid looked him up and down and nodded with satisfaction.

"Good morning, Mr. Sherlock."

Conan nodded politely and said good morning.

"Last time you told me that we didn't need to arrange for someone to come to your house to help you wash and change clothes. I didn't expect that you actually took good care of yourself. It was surprising."

"......You're too kind?" Conan didn't know how to answer for a moment. As a maid, aren't you a little too familiar?

"You are indeed different from ordinary people." The head maid smiled implicitly and looked more like a kind old grandmother.

She led Conan for a while, stopped outside the restaurant, knocked on the door, whispered an order, and then the maid inside the restaurant opened the door.

The head maid did not go in, but stretched out her hand in front of Conan and made a gesture to invite him in.

"Your Highness the Hohenzollern looks forward to dining with you."

"Me too?" Conan forced a smile. For some reason, he was inexplicably infected by the wonderful atmosphere here and became a little confused about etiquette.

Forget it, never mind.

Conan stopped hesitating and strode into the restaurant. Then he saw a figure sitting on a chair, crossing his legs and reading a newspaper.

That should be His Highness Hohenzollern as mentioned by the maid.

Hohenzollern was not the wealthy man he had imagined, but a young-looking man with flowing brown curly hair and a monocle on his right eye.

Judging from the way he crossed his legs unrestrainedly, he was not a man who was strict with etiquette.

"Good morning."

Without more information, it was impossible to estimate the relationship between him and "Sherlock". Conan thought about it, chose the least wrong way to greet him, and sat down opposite him.

Hohenzollern glanced at him, squinted his eyes in surprise, then released his right hand holding the newspaper and pulled out a pocket watch from his coat pocket.

"You call 10 a.m. early?"

Conan gave an awkward but polite smile, put a piece of sausage into his mouth with a fork.

Putting down the newspaper, Hohenzollern stood up, leaned towards him, and looked at him curiously: "Where did you go last night?"

This was not a questioning tone, but rather meant that in Hohenzollern's impression of him, he did seem to run out and wander around in the middle of the night.

And judging from their attitudes, they should have a good relationship?

At least it's not a superficial friendship.

Conan's somewhat broken German did not arouse any doubts. Could it be that "Sherlock" is not a local?

Yeah, there is no German with this last name.

Conan nodded ambiguously, then shook his head, and continued to eat his food, leaving Hohenzollern to scratch his head.

It’s a good thing this is in Germany. If it were in England, he probably wouldn’t be able to finish this breakfast.

Conan didn't like greasy barbecue, so he just ate two sausages, then moistened his throat with scented tea and put down his knife and fork.

"Let's not talk about this for now. What are our plans for today?" Conan tried to get Hohenzollern to answer using this vague statement again.

Hohenzollern didn't notice anything wrong. Instead, he became excited and said mysteriously, "I'll take you to a place I discovered recently. It's very interesting!"

Conan nodded, and took advantage of Hohenzollern's relaxed state of mind during the meal to obtain the information he wanted bit by bit.

After breakfast, he learned a lot of useful things.