[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

"Oh, have I offended you?"

Atum lowered his eyes:

"But even if I mess with you, what can you do, growl at me? Scream?"

He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her up from the coffin, and smiled softly at her:

"Or like those jealous and crazy women who kicked, scratched, and smashed precious antiques on the wall as if they were dollar-a-piece Chinese plates?"

He lifted Ludwig's shoulders, and suddenly let go.

His loose hand has the power to push forward.

Ludwig fell back onto the coffin again, the gun behind him collided with the wooden coffin and made a sound, but it was covered by the sound of her skull colliding with the iron chain.

Ludwig pursed his lips, feeling the taste of blood in his mouth.

When a woman and a man collide head-on, most of the time it is the woman who suffers because of her inherently weak physical strength.

But it's also fair.

Because when she and Sherlock collide head-on, it is mostly Sherlock who suffers, because love is inherently weak.

...That's enough, she can't win everywhere.

Just this time, whether she can win or not, she will win.

……

"Oh, look at your face, it's white with pain."

Yatum held her face distressedly, but didn't care about the blood oozing from her hair:

"Are you okay? Do you want to lie down and rest?"

lie?Where are you lying?Use her father's coffin as a bed, lie on it and rest?

Pain is beneficial and wakes one up.

……

"I have always disliked physical torture, because there is no wisdom in it, it is just an invention of a group of reckless people."

Yatum raised his head, glanced at the camera hidden in Napoleon's eyes with a half-smile, and made a mouth shape——

"I will burn your heart."

Then he lowered his head again and looked at Ludwig with a gentle smile:

"Physical punishment is rude, but now I find that it is a good method under certain circumstances... You say, if I hang you on an iron chain, drain the blood little by little, or cut you piece by piece with a blade The delicate skin on his arm, will Sherlock go completely crazy?"

He sighed with a smile:

"Oh...I can't wait to show him this video."

"Whether he will go crazy or not, I don't know, but I'm sure you will go completely crazy, because Sherlock will peel off your cerebral cortex... He has peeled off the skin of several brains, and the technique is quite skilled."

Ludwig sat up half propped up and licked the blood off his teeth:

"And you don't need to bluff...you can't kill me."

"It's impossible for me to kill you? Where did you get your confidence?"

He puts his hand gently on her arteries:

"Strangling you is as easy as strangling a chicken, I don't even have to use force."

"No, you dare not."

Ludwig shook his head:

"Have you forgotten? I am a sacrifice...how could you kill the sacrifice before it was put on the altar? After all, the Egyptian church is not your power. After all, they rely on you only because they need your help." Wisdom, it's the same reason you use them against Sherlock..."

Her tone was so calm, as if the finger on her neck was just a decoration:

"Yatum, this is not your power. Using each other is not surrender but trading... They still need me as a sacrifice, so you dare not touch me."

Atum smiled:

"Sweetheart, my purpose is to destroy Sherlock, and when I killed you, he was already destroyed... Then what am I still doing with the Egyptian church?"

"Have you forgotten what you said? You are a man who claims to be a god. Sherlock is just that you can't win over and you can't defeat him. You are so frightened that you have to try to destroy him...He is your goal, but not your ultimate goal. Purpose."

Before she finished speaking, Yatum had already grabbed her neck.

Atum pinched her with one hand, but smiled slightly:

"continue."

"you sure?"

Ludwig looked into his eyes and smiled:

"Be careful I pull you off the altar."

"How many people wanted to pull me down from the altar, including your father, mother and uncle...but they all died in a terrible way."

Atum said softly:

"I don't mind you being the fourth in your family."

...want to disturb her mind?

Ludwig patted his hand on her neck:

"If you want to listen, relax a little bit, I can't speak so tightly."

She said with a smile:

"Mr. Yatum, before you become a god, I have three... no, it should be four things, and I want to discuss them seriously with you."

at the same time.

The biggest stumbling block on Atum's path to becoming a fairy, Sherlock Holmes is striding in the middle of the road.

It was almost dawn, but the lazy Europeans still didn't run out of taxis, at least not in this block.

Not far away, a private car drove up the road.

Sherlock stood in the middle of the road, the bright headlights shone on him, and the horn sounded again and again.

But instead of avoiding it, he walked towards the car.

There was a tooth-piercing sound of brakes, barely stopping ten centimeters in front of him.

The owner of the car was wearing a decent suit, opened the car window, waved his fist at him, and said in English:

"Fuck! You son of a bitch, please change the street... oh god, I locked the car door, what the hell are you..."

"Then obviously your door locks need to be changed."

Sherlock calmly pinned the needle back to the corner of his coat - he didn't originally hide the lockpicking pin here, but since his little girlfriend seemed to prefer the corner of his coat, it was also the most convenient height for her hand to reach.

Therefore, pinning the needle back to the position chosen by his girlfriend instead of the position he is used to is definitely not a subconscious accommodation of Mr. Holmes-he is a man with careful logic, and it must be believed that this must be the result of his deliberation.

But at the moment, this meticulous man's style of acting is a little hasty and rough.

He lifted the owner out of the driver's seat like a chicken, and said succinctly:

"BORROR car."

The owner of the car grabbed the car door and refused to let go:

"Fuck! Why the hell did I lend you the car..."

"Because I have you in my hands. I lost all my money betting on the horse a month ago and had to borrow usury. Now the usury is still not paid, so you embezzled your boss's company funds, and the company funds are still not paid, so you have already asked your boss. The relatives are, to be precise, the factual evidence that your siblings committed fraud."

Sherlock pulled his hand away and sat in the cab, still succinctly:

"Driving without a license, please give way."

"..."

So on the streets of France in the early morning, a French-British man wearing a decent black suit on his upper body and a pair of Hawaiian beach shorts on his lower body, stared dumbfounded at his car being stopped by a man halfway. With a gesture of drag racing, he flew out with a "whoosh".

This is the rhythm of turning a car into an airplane, which is amazing and so handsome!He completely brought out the performance of his new Bugatti to the extreme!

That's how a man should drive!

But what did this man just say?

No, no... driving without a license?

Oh fuck!His new car!

Sherlock skillfully shifts gears, brakes, accelerator, and clutch.

It was his first time driving and it didn't feel good.

too slow.

But he can't drive fast.

The tires of this kind of private car have limitations. The heat consumed by the friction between the tire and the ground can be obtained from the difference between the power generated by the oil cylinder and the speed of the entire work, combined with the material and friction coefficient of the tire... He drives a little faster, the tires It's about to smoke.

An ordinary family car is really not his style, he is right not to drive.

It seems that when his little girlfriend who is making an independent revolution comes back, she will learn to drive.

Sherlock slammed the steering wheel to the left, and the car turned dangerously into another road, roaring towards the way they came from.

That's right, it's the way.

His girlfriend's father is obviously a real professor and scholar. In addition to his own history, he is familiar with all kinds of literature, cryptography and religious knowledge.

There is also an extremely important point.

Professor Ludwig is good at using puns.

He just asked his little girlfriend a question not long ago, and she commented that "this kind of thing is worth talking about and asking me."

She was wrong, the question was of the utmost importance.

What he was asking was why, when her father was a heavy smoker, why did the packs he had left in their own house be brand new?

And her answer was that because he liked the cigarette case, he didn't use it.

She also added that Professor Ludwig's favorite pen is also hidden in the drawer, clean as new.

……

For Professor Ludwig, the things he likes are not for use, but for collection.

So much for things... So, what about religion?

His bookshelves are all-encompassing, but only Catholicism is missing... This is not because he is unique, on the contrary, he is the most faithful believer in Catholicism.

Because of faithfulness, so do not study.

Because I love it, I only treasure it.

In the Gospel of God, the apple is a special image. It was Eve who ate the apple, and mankind was exiled from the Garden of Eden.

And so the world began.

The world began with an apple.

The human journey also begins with an apple.

The apple is the beginning, the gate, and the entrance.

A beautiful pun.

Sherlock stepped on the gas pedal to the bottom, and the Bugatti's door spun too fast and the centrifugal force made an unbearable clicking sound.

Yes.

Another entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is at the Center Pompidou.

It was five thirty in the morning.

The other side of Paris.

"...Just when you said that my parents' lifelong wish was to complete the Nile River ritual to awaken the gods, I suddenly remembered something."

Ludwig leaned on his father's coffin and smiled, with blood on the corner of his mouth:

"My father's ashtray and pen, both new...he doesn't use them, like he doesn't see God on his bookshelf."

Atum raised his eyebrows: "So?"

"Dogs that bite people don't bark. My father is so low-key that none of you know that what he worships is not the Egyptian sun god at all. What he worships is Catholicism at all...Catholicism, do you understand these three words?"

Ludwig raised the corner of his mouth:

"Then the question is, my father, who worships Catholicism, took his only daughter as a sacrifice to the Nile River? Are you kidding me?"

If you like Egyptian culture, you must worship Egyptian religion?

At first glance, it seems difficult to jump out of this circle, but after thinking about it, the fact is that simple.

"Just because he doesn't have God and an ashtray on his bookshelf? Sweetheart, family affection blinds your eyes, but I fully understand that you can't accept that you are an outcast."

Atum looked down into her face:

"When you get to Egypt, you will understand the fact that you are a sacrifice, and you will be bound on a wooden frame to be burned... To be honest, if Sherlock hadn't stopped you, you have already hinted at Erich that you are going to Egypt Falling into a hunter's trap while rescuing him."

What does he mean... Ann and those cryptic words about Egypt implying that she went to Egypt to be a living sacrifice for these religious fanatics?

With contemptuous and pitiful eyes, Yatum looked up high:

"You're right, the church and I are just using each other, but even so, I know them better than you... Lamb."

Long black hair covered his cheeks, and after a moment of silence, Ludwig suddenly laughed.

Atum's hand was still on her neck:

"what are you laughing at?"

"What a good story to tell, Atum, as true as you've seen it happen."

Ludwig stretched out his hand and brushed aside the long hair that fell again:

"How old were you when my father went to Egypt to study history as a professor? Five? Six? Sorry, if Sherlock told me these stories, I would have believed it...but you, I don't."

Her black, sparkling eyes stared at Atum without blinking:

"Because when he was five or six years old, he was better than you when you were in your 20s... The traces of your doing things are so obvious that even I can see it. How dare you call yourself a criminal genius? How dare you even want to become a god alongside Sherlock? With all due respect, Scotland Yard is useless enough, and you, even Scotland Yard."

... Not long after, when Inspector Lestrade saw this video, his face was bloodied.

Scotland Yard has been lying on the gun.

Atum smiled slightly, but his eyes were a little gloomy.

He patted Ludwig's cheek tenderly:

"I defend your right to speak, because you won't be able to speak for long... Honey, go ahead."

I defend your right to speak.

Namely, I disagree with every word you say.

Ludwig glanced behind Atum.

Her palms were cold, trembling slightly, she was afraid—of course not because of Atum.

"I don't believe a single word of what you said...except for the part where Erich was killed by you."

Ludwig took a deep breath, suppressed the great panic in his heart, and quietly moved his eyes away from the black corner of his clothes in front of him.

If after today, she is still alive.

Then in the days to come, she should never be afraid of ghosts again.

……

"Really? People don't believe because of fear, not for solid reasons."

Atum smiled even more happily.

His fingers brushed across her collarbone ambiguously:

"If Erich is innocent, then how do I know that you are from China?"

"That's the second thing I want to discuss with you."

Ludwig stared into his gray-blue eyes and said slowly:

"Do you remember that lily I took upstairs?"

--lily.

Before she went to the hospital to meet Ann He for the first time, a sick little girl downstairs gave her a lily.

She was a little strange at the time, because the little girl's mother left after sending a flower to her daughter... Even if they don't love their daughter, in order not to take responsibility, most people will wait for the father of the child to come and finish the work After handing over and leaving, how could you leave the child alone in the hospital hall?

……

"I didn't realize this until you pretended to blow up the hospital... Sherlock responded immediately after receiving your threatening text message. My relationship must have been closely monitored by Mycroft and Sherlock."

Atum smiled at her.

He wasn't afraid of her rebuttals, it seemed that the more she rebutted, the more pleasure he got.

—It seems that he doesn't care about these things.

It seemed his face only darkened when she said he was inferior to Sherlock.

——If I can't get you, I want to keep pace with you?

True love doesn't explain.

"Under their strict surveillance, it is impossible for you to take advantage of the loopholes. There are only two ways to know the content of the conversation between me and Ai Ruixi... One is like you said, Ai Ruixi is your person at all, and the other leaks the secret way..."

Ludwig raised his head, his long black hair fell on Atum's fingertips:

"it's me."

Even if she doubted herself, she would doubt An He... She would never doubt him.

"The things you know are all from me."

Sherlock can inspect all the people and things that enter the Ann Ward, but he cannot inspect the bouquet of flowers she brought in and the bugs installed deep in the petals.

"Erici's bed sheets and quilt covers have to be changed every day, and the drawers are filled with his own things. The bugs installed on the walls will be discovered by Sherlock..."

Only that lily.

"Sherlock suspected that he belonged to you. At that time, I thought about it and found that only the lily plant I brought in was there from beginning to end, from blooming to withering."

An He didn't discard the withered lily until she died...it was always there.

It was because of her again.

The information was leaked, the secret was discovered, and based on the information she leaked, Yatum made a complete plan...to murder An He.

Very painful, right?

Even if he died by taking sleeping pills, the way of death would not be easy, not to mention that the medicine that the doctor injected into An He's arm was to make him die as soon as possible within a few seconds.

Because when he died, the needle had not been pulled out.

...how painful it must be.

And all of this, all of this, all this pain and parting... is all because of her.

All because of her.

……

Atum stretched out his hand, his thumb brushed across her cheek:

"Look, you're crying."

cry?

No, she didn't cry.

It's just that big drops of tears condensed on her long eyelashes, and her dark eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of mist, like a whirlpool, trying to suck people into the darkness without a trace of light.

But her eyes were wide open, staring at Atum, the light in them was terrifyingly bright.

——Sparkling.

"It's like this...it's like this..."

Atum leaned down, kissing her lashes softly.

His voice was as soft as a sigh:

"The way you cry... that's right, that's what I want to see, not the panicked eyes of the lamb before slaughter, not the regretful and fearful eyes of people when they die, but... your eyes."

He slowly helped Ludwig up, and gently rubbed her face:

"Tell me, are you in pain now?"

pain?

Of course it hurts, how painful it is.

Thoughts are breathless because of the pain, as if the internal organs are burned to ashes.

The peaceful appearance of her little brother before his death, the thin sunlight, the white sheets, the withered lilies... These scenes are like being carved in her eyeballs with a knife, and they can't be shaken away.

She sits on a painted coffin.

And in the coffin lies her last relative in this world.

She sat there, her white sleeves covering the eyes of the puppet on the coffin like butterfly wings.

"If I say I'm in pain."

she said quietly.

She didn't look at Atum, but behind Atum:

"Are you going to do it now? Are you afraid that you won't be able to explain to your organization if I die?"

"All the blame will be put on Sherlock...I'm not that stupid.

Atum laughed, and he took her in his arms:

"do not be afraid."

Ludwig looked at him for a while, then suddenly said:

"I said I would tell you four things, but now there are two things I haven't said... You promised me to defend my right to speak."

Yatum smiled, and gently stroked her hair like a big brother facing a vexatious child:

"It doesn't matter, we have time, when did you finish talking, where do we start... What method of death do you like? I personally recommend the small dagger."

"A small dagger would work too, I don't mind its small size if you're going to go straight to the arteries."

Ludwig nodded:

"Let me talk about what I want to say first... Do you remember, when you led me to the underground casino, you told me that God does not have only one face."

Atum rubbed her chin affectionately against her hair:

"Well, I said so, but so what?"

"Of course not, it just reminded me of something."

Ludwig tilted his head and smiled:

"God doesn't just have one face... so should I call you Artum, or should I call you... Stuart?"