[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

Ludwig's fingers firmly grasped the railing, supporting the weight of his body so that he would not be completely dependent on the person behind him.

She has no time to care about the people behind her.

Sudden fall, sudden death, sudden blood.

The impact of all this on her was too strong.

Jiro Uehara died... In "Sherlock Holmes", a man who had never appeared before died.

Is this true?

If even the death in front of your eyes is not real, then what is real?

She seemed to see that in that world, Li Sanque was holding a coffee cup, nestling next to her cat, holding a book, and spoke calmly and calmly:

"The existence of matter depends on the senses—for example, you have a long dream. In that dream, there are alternations of cold and warm, pleasure and pain, birth, old age, sickness and death, and you have spent your life like this..."

She smiled slightly, looked up, and looked directly at her:

"So, what's the difference between it and the real world?"

Ludwig closed his eyes.

From between Sherlock's fingers, the missing ray of light also disappeared.

And she just felt that she had never been so enlightened.

Plants can only feel one dimension, ants only two.

For us, the real three-dimensional space does not exist for them.

...so, what is real?

Her previous world, her current world... As long as she can still touch it, then it is real to her.

Blood is red, the sun is warm, and human life is limited.

And when a person dies, he dies.

Ludwig's mind turned back and forth, but for Sherlock, it was just a short moment.

Before he could confirm the vital signs of the person in his arms again, the hand he put on her eyes was roughly pulled off.

Ludwig glanced downstairs, his eyes were calm, and he could no longer see the slightest fear.

Then, she broke free from Sherlock's arms.

There is no expression, and there is no fragility and fear that she should have at her age.

She didn't even look at him, turned around and ran downstairs.

Sherlock stood where he was, looking at his hands for a second.

Immediately, the long legs strode a few steps away from her, and when she had reached the door of the top floor, he grabbed her.

"Where are you going? I said it's not your fault, your negotiation knowledge is close to none, and failure is an inevitable result..."

Ludwig stopped and turned to look at him with dark eyes.

"I could have grabbed his hand."

She said calmly:

"However, the moment I was able to catch him, I hesitated, because I found that I was likely to be pulled down by him... Because of that half-second of hesitation, I watched helplessly as he fell from my hand. down."

Sherlock's gaze was firmly on her face, and he was keenly aware that there was something different about her.

When she first came, she stood at the gate of Baker Street, holding his mobile phone.

She knew that the mobile phone was an important tool for him and that it was a matter of human life, but she still chose not to go to the scene of the crime and returned the mobile phone to him.

Sherlock looked at her and said slowly, "I thought...you wouldn't care about any of this."

"That's why I suddenly care."

Sherlock looked into those bright eyes, and suddenly it was difficult to say the following words.

"That's not your fault either... The title of the book, the dialogue, and the information revealed from you, combined with all of this, it's a matter of fact that he wants to commit suicide."

He pursed his lips, and still said:

"But I wouldn't bother to save a man who wanted to die, I didn't stop him."

Ludwig stared at the tightly clasped hands of the two, and an indescribable... sense of disharmony welled up in his heart.

"I guessed it."

She shook Sherlock's hand, but didn't.

"How can you not know the fact that even I can deduce it...I said, what are you doing holding my hand?"

Sherlock was still staring intently into her eyes.

He sullenly said, "Then why do you have such an expression? Why did you shake off my hand? No matter what I say, I saved your life..."

But you didn't even give me a look.

Ludwig was simply out of temper:

"Because I want to go downstairs! I just want to go downstairs to see the scene. Why do you keep me from going down? Are you going to camp on the top of the [-]th floor at night?"

Kneel to the inexplicable Mr. Holmes!

By the time we got back to the performance hall, the sun was almost dark.

After submitting Sherlock's certificate to the policeman at the door, Ludwig walked into the empty performance hall.

There are rows of dark red seats and dark red curtains.

Under the huge stained glass window, Anna Takemura sat alone in the middle of the auditorium.

The twilight is all together, people go and the tea is cool.

Thin to transparent, dark yellow sunlight smeared on her lonely silhouette.

Ludwig stepped lightly, approached her, and said softly:

"Mr. Jiro Uehara... is dead."

She sat there like a sculpture for a long time before she spoke softly:

"I see."

A policeman Ludwig had never seen before walked in, and Anna Takemura quietly stretched out her hand, allowing him to handcuff her slender wrists.

When she turned around, Ludwig couldn't help but say:

"Before he died, he was holding that cigarette case... the cigarette case you gave him."

She stopped in her tracks, turned around slightly, her seaweed-like long black hair covered half of her beautiful face.

"These are not important anymore."

Her calm tone was as light as a sigh:

"He has followed her death and left... So these are not important anymore. All I can do is to help him atone for his sin."

Ludwig has been watching her, watching her walk along the long dark red carpet, past rows of empty chairs, and around dark corners.

Finally, it disappeared at the end of the corridor, in the deep darkness.

"I've closed the case for you, and it's time for Scotland Yard to oil its brains. I want to take a rest."

As soon as Ludwig came out, he was faced with the entangled scene of the kid Sherlock, who refused to cooperate with the elder Lestrade to the death.

Lestrade: "I don't see where you need to rest at all...Vichy, can you please let Sherlock speak? You are the only one here who has this ability."

Ludwig, who has been leaning against the wall and holding his forehead:

"...Inspector, I'm not Mr. Holmes' remote control...Sorry, I'm going to the bathroom."

You can get shot while lying down, and urine escape is the kingly way.

Sitting on the only chair in the interrogation room, Sherlock, who had been playing with his mobile phone indifferently, suddenly said:

"This dismissal—you won't be able to go to the bathroom alone in the future."

Ludwig: "...So, you plan to follow me to the women's bathroom?"

Sherlock looked cold: "If necessary."

Lestrade: "Please stop arguing... Vichy, you don't need to be a remote control, you just need to say a word softly and let him tell me what is on that sheet of music."

Ludwig was silent for a moment.

What he said in the next second was beyond everyone's expectations.

"Sorry, but I cannot compel Mr. Holmes to reason, as this is his freedom."

Sherlock looked up at Ludwig, narrowing his eyes.

She frowned slightly:

"I don't intend to offend...I just feel that Mr. Holmes' contribution is not equal to your attitude towards him."

Lestrade kicked Sherlock under the table.

He felt that the current scene was too interesting, but he had to put on a serious face:

"It's a two-way street—in order for Sherlock to get into the crime scene, I broke almost all the rules."

Ludwig looked up:

"It's not a kindness, Inspector. It's supply and demand that determines the market—the more you pay for it, the more it shows how much you need him."

As she spoke, she didn't notice Sherlock's eyes.

Ludwig said that if she knew what kind of eyes Sherlock was looking at her at this moment.

She will definitely run away, even if she is killed, she will not quote the words from the original book.

"Because he's a consulting detective, the only consulting detective in the world, isn't he?"

……

That's right, that's it. If you defend Sherlock more, the relationship between the two will be more stable.

Lestrade thought.

For the sake of his efforts to match the two, on the day of Sherlock's wedding, he must visit the Holmes' manor.

Officer Edgar stopped sorting out the documents in his hands, put on his glasses, and looked at Ludwig seriously, as if he had discovered that she was also a beauty for the first time.

He smiled and said:

"I'm sorry, Miss Ludwig, I just want to ask one question—is it because Sherlock has the right to remain silent that the truth should be covered up?"

"With great power comes great responsibility...that's just a line in the movie, police officer. In reality, we only say that rights and obligations are equal, and he does not have this obligation."

She shrugged, ignoring Sherlock's overly intense gaze, and smiled slightly at the young police officer:

"Of course these are my thoughts. Mr. Holmes is distasteful with aloofness, arrogance, arrogance and anti-social - you can't do too much for him."

Lestrade kicked Sherlock quietly again, and the corner of his usually serious mouth evoked a teasing smile.

Sherlock still ignored him, he touched his fingertips and placed them in front of his nose, his eyes firmly grasping Ludwig's figure.

She didn't look at him, not even a corner of her eye.

She just stood there by herself, speaking up for him, arguing for him—even though he didn't need it.

……

Are you really speaking for him?

Is she speaking for the male god Sherlock Holmes of the 1900s, or is she speaking for her current roommate Holmes?

Ludwig himself couldn't tell.

She didn't notice Lestrade's little interaction with Sherlock at all, and just finished what she had been meaning to say.

……

Lestrade looked at Sherlock with pity, leaned close to Sherlock's ear, and after making sure that Ludwig couldn't hear his voice, he whispered:

"Aloof and arrogant and annoying, cocky and anti-social? ... Oh, Sherlock, are you really sure she likes you? I don't see it at all."

"Of course."

"I'm sorry, but her evaluation of you is too objective. This is obvious, and it's not the attitude you should have in a passionate relationship."

Sherlock didn't answer him right away, still looking at the back of Ludwig and Officer Edgar arguing.

Habitual reasoning in the brain, but the content is completely different from the previous cold reasoning.

She still dresses simple, but very stylish.

The unmistakably Italian-inspired top, three years old by the looks of it.

His hair cascaded down to his waist and hadn't been trimmed in at least a year.

The dark red linen trousers, judging from the color contrast of the pockets and other parts, have been worn for more than a year.

So Mr. Holmes concluded from his observations:

1. His little girlfriend Ludwig is really poor.

2. His little girlfriend Ludwig is careless about herself, at least she is in urgent need of buying some clothes at the moment.

3. His little girlfriend, Ludwig, hates having her hair tied up. Her hair is splitting like a bud.

……

Sherlock looked away from Ludwig and sat in a more comfortable position.

Then he said casually to Lestrade:

"Did Mary tell you that she accompanied her friend in New York to an abortion?"

Lestrade: "...Sherlock, whatever you want to say next, I don't want to hear it."

Sherlock was expressionless: "Really? I wanted to tell you that Mary actually went for the abortion herself, but if you don't want to hear it, just..."

Lestrade: "What!? Mary's pregnant?!!"

The voice suddenly raised, attracting a strange glance from Ludwig.

"Oh, Lestrade, don't be so unbelievable, the child is not yours."

Lestrade: "..."

Doubting Ludwig's feelings in front of Sherlock, such a stupid thing, must be blacklisted in life.

Sherlock calmly stabbed another knife in Lestrade's heart:

"And even if it's yours, it's been destroyed now."

Lestrade: "...Sherlock, I hope that one day your heart will be burned to ashes because of one person-as I am now."

Sherlock smiled innocently:

"Then you'll have to wait until the Third World War, Lestrade."

……

"...We are talking about duties and obligations, not conscience, Officer Edgar. There is no constitution that stipulates that people must have a conscience, but there is a whole law that gives Mr. Holmes the right to remain silent."

Ludwig ended the debate with a concluding statement, put his hands in his pockets, turned to look at Sherlock, and raised a somewhat smug smile.

Like to say again - you see, I won, in terms of vexatious logic, I ko Scotland Yard.

Sherlock curled up the corners of his mouth imperceptibly, raised his head, and said coldly:

"Winning Edgar can only show that your logical thinking has finally reached the passing line... But it's more fulfilling than beating Lestrade. Congratulations... So can we go home now?"

Edgar: "..."

Lestrade: "..."

Ludwig: "..."

……

In a word, everyone, Mr. Holmes, you are indeed the winner in life.