Chess and Goldfish

"I didn't expect you to take the initiative to contact me."

"There just so happens to be an opportunity for mutual benefit."

"A qualified transaction depends on whether the hunter is qualified."

……

The black umbrella rests on the ground, the handle is very long, and it forms a [-]-degree angle with the body, which makes the man's standing posture and the black umbrella reach a perfect balance.

"Do not provide motives, only provide means; do not directly participate, only indirectly cover up."

The little man smiled and chewed the gum in his mouth, "You are so cute, baby."

——*——*—*——*——*——

The curly-haired man stood at the window, holding a violin in his hand, with an elegant posture, but there was a sound of sawing wood.

"That's enough, Sherlock!" Watson rubbed between his brows with a headache. It was getting dark outside, and the time was 47:[-].

A man in a jacket appeared in sight from the window carrying a bag. He walked briskly, and his brown-black curly hair moved with the wind. Watson was stunned for a moment, realizing that this was probably his new neighbor, another curly hair?Therefore, he didn't notice that the sawn wood by his ear had become a serenade.

"Ma'am, I would like to thank you again for my rental." The sweet voice was inexplicably bewildering, and the small man smiled handsomely. He was Mrs. Hudson's favorite little boy .

"Oh, dear, you don't have to be so polite. I mean, just make this your home, London is very friendly! I think it's better than your days ago." Mrs. Hudson laughed Get up and hug him.

"John, Sherlock! This is Gent, the new tenant."

Watson stood up and stretched out his hand, "John Watson, military doctor." The man in front of him looked very cheerful and had a good personality. Watson felt that his ability to read people should not be bad.

The little brown-black curly hair blinked his sky-defying big eyes, showing his neat white teeth, "Nice to meet you, John. I'm Kingt, Kingt Eyes (kingt·eyes1)." He added , "It's a professor."

"That's really good." Watson smiled, and then as if thinking of something, he pointed to the man who was pretending to be playing the violin, "This is Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, a detective, and we rented the house together .—oh, I have a girlfriend."

Gent was amused, "He doesn't look like it, and neither do you."

Watson was a little surprised, and it was the first time someone said that. He looked at Gent with interest, "Why do you say that?"

The little brown and black curly hair pretended to be distressed and thought for a while, "Maybe it is the special intuition of Americans? You are not quite like "other" British people."

"Ha, you're so funny."

Gent shrugged and said nothing.

"Honey, you sit first. Coke or beer?" Mrs. Hudson was still very happy.

But someone will always spoil her mood - "A cup of coffee, two sugar, Mrs. Hudson, you forgot."

"Sherlock, I'm not your butler!"

"Thank you."

"Oh, this kid..." Mrs. Hudson shook her head and continued to ask, "What about you? Coke?"

Gent glanced at the man who had put down the violin, "emm... If it's not troublesome, coffee, thank you."

Mrs. Hudson said, "Of course, dear, you can have a nice chat."

"She's discriminating." Sherlock frowned.

Watson curled his lips, "You always order her around."

"You too, John." Sherlock didn't look at the intruder, "I unplugged the refrigerator before she left."

"God—you??" Watson didn't catch his breath. A woman's kitchen is not allowed to move around, doesn't he know?

"Mr. Horst needs to rest elsewhere," said Sherlock.

Mr. Horst, probably referring to the head who has been stationed in their refrigerator all year round?Watson thought dumbly.

And the next second, Mrs. Hudson's scream just confirmed this point.

Gent watched their way of getting along with interest, and didn't feel that he was left out in the slightest.

Until the kind doctor remembered, "Oh, sorry Mr. Ace, I think we might have scared you."

"Kingt, please." Gent laughed, "Probably not very good at it, I'm quite courageous. ——Is this the daily life of a detective?"

Now, the other curly-haired man finally let go of his aloofness and said, "I'm the only consulting detective in the world."

The voice was as silky as a cello, and the deep and magnetic voice was very pleasant. Gent touched his stomach, and he felt that he needed a super large piece of milk chocolate now.

"Interesting explanation."

"Financial or psychological?"

Gent froze for a moment, and looked at Watson, who was obviously used to this kind of Sherlock question and answer, but he still didn't understand what it meant.

"What are you talking about, Sherlock?"

The man wearing only a purple shirt repeated, and by the way, looked around Gent with his gray eyes that were slightly green.

"Finance." Gent said to Watson kindly, "I think Sherlock should be asking about my major, Mr. Holmes? — Sorry, you should be more used to Sherlock."

The words were blocked for a moment, and Sherlock moved his nose.

"You are an American. You have just come to London from the United States for a week. From your attire and accent, it can be seen that you have been living in a small hotel in the West End and rented 222b Baker Street three days ago. The reason is that you are a Professor of Finance at the Marylebone Department of the University of Westminster, so you need to find a place to live nearby. You are an only child, your parents are deceased, and you may have a respected senior, oh no, a bunch of them. You are the best at..."

Suddenly, Sherlock shut his mouth.

He walked past Gent and Watson with long legs, "Mrs. Hudson, don't throw Mr. Horst away!"

Watson: "Why did he stop?"

Gent said in a daze, "How does he know... I mean, he's always been like this?"

"Obviously." The doctor made a helpless gesture, "but he didn't mean anything malicious, Gent, please don't care, ah, if you care, I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh no, of course not."

Watson was surprised, "Don't you feel offended?" He thought of Sherlock saying that he "both parents died", would he not be happy?

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

The man who was moving Mr. Horst paused, his light gray eyes flickered, "...fake."

"This is unbelievable, you, you, him, you all!" Watson's eyes lit up slightly, and when he met Gent's questioning gaze, he said, "Because usually, people will just let him go away."

Gent smiled, "You are the amazing, John."

"John—"

Sherlock's yell came from the kitchen, and Watson was startled, and hurriedly said, "Sherlock? What's the matter, Sherlock?"

"I don't think we have time to wait until tomorrow." Sherlock said as he walked out of the kitchen, his eyes were shining brightly, as if he had found some treasure, he became excited, "Why didn't I think of it! It's fake, it's all fake. is fake!"

"Wait, Sherlock, what are you talking about?"

The tall curly-haired man held John's shoulders tightly, and said in a surprised tone, "Tiao Hu Li Shan! It is indeed Tiao Hu, not Li Shan! That corpse is still far away!"

"Ohhh?!" Watson opened his eyes wide, apparently in disbelief, "What did you say?"

"Fridge! I saw the compartment of the refrigerator! Simple blindfold - someone lured us away, did it without leaving a trace, made me think he really stole the body, under everyone's noses. No wires, no Steel wire, no replacement, no trace, how on earth did he manage to remove the body? I have never been able to figure this out. Obviously, when there is only the most incredible answer left for a thing, it is true, no matter how unbelievable .”

"So...?" John blinked. "You mean, the body was in the coffin the whole time?"

Sherlock began to look for his suit and coat everywhere, "Yes, yes, use your little brain, John! As I said, it is a simple cover-up, just like the compartments of the refrigerator, the coffin has compartments, and the corpse is in the At the right time, I was turned over and fell into the compartment, and we, misguided, they led me away and manipulated the corpse."

After Sherlock put on his coat and scarf, he straightened his collar and raised his neck, like a cat that won a fight, "The truth can never be covered up, and what is fake is always fake."

Saying that, he deliberately looked at Gent, who smiled innocently, causing Sherlock to grind his back molars hard.

"You've been to Holloway." He stood in front of Gent, looking down at him.

The other party nodded indifferently, "Afternoon."

To Watson's surprise, it was Holloway they were going to in the afternoon.

"Is the apple pie good?"

Jin Te blinked in disappointment, "No, I don't think I recommend that one if you haven't finished your meal now."

"...be careful, boy, you'll always show your feet."

You are the boy.

Gent licked his lips maliciously in his heart, and glanced lightly at a certain part of the detective.

Then the excitement materialized, and he tried to restrain the corners of his lips, but Watson still felt a chill.

"Errrr, Gent, do you want to join us? Investigate the case, you seem to be interested." Watson said uncertainly, he was always so kind.

Upon hearing this, Sherlock turned around sharply, and the black windbreaker was lifted up, billowing like a black cloud, he let out a heavy breath through his nostrils, his light gray eyes became much deeper, "John, Follow up!"

"It seems that he doesn't welcome me, it's obvious." Gent shrugged his shoulders, and he didn't expect this person to be friendly to him. After all, he must have put himself, the pretender, in the memory palace. Then start a little dissection.

But Gent didn't care, because it was all voluntary. He fully hoped that he would be interpreted by Sherlock Holmes with the basic deductive method, as if he was peeling off the cocoon, how interesting it was!

Thinking about it, I trembled with excitement.

"You'd better have seen dead people, corpses, lots and lots of corpses, university professor."

"Honey, I can't wait."

Sherlock paused, waved his hand angrily, and hailed an eternal black taxi and got in.

Gent smiled, patted the embarrassed doctor, and got into the co-pilot of the taxi.

# # #

Misleading is the most basic means of magic.

The hardest thing in the world to be exposed is a half-truth.

——*——*—*——*——

— hooked, baby.

—Hmph, stupid.