Chess and Goldfish

Ken Quint looked sullenly at the people from Scotland Yard who suddenly broke into his office.

"In what name are you arresting me?" He said in a low voice, "Is this your attitude? Treat cabinet members like this? You will regret it, because you treated a future prime minister of the British Empire like this!"

"You are not yet." The leading man's expression is not serious, "Allow me to remind you, respectable Mr. Kent, the list of candidates has not been announced, arresting you now will not cause big news."

Ken Quint seemed to be insulted, his eyes were wide open, extremely red, staring at the person coming.

Inspector Lestrade hesitated for a moment, stepped forward and stabbed his boss in the back, "The other side said that it would be fine to just take it away."

"Did you hear that?" The man representing Scotland Yard gave Ken Quint a friendly smile, then turned his head to signal the people behind him, "Take it away, go to MI6."

Ken Quint stretched out his hands expressionlessly, and was forced to put on his most disgusting handcuffs. This reminded him of the rainy night many years ago, when the tightly closed iron door closed his life.

His pride and self-esteem made him unable to resist fiercely. He didn't even try to break free. He pursed his lips tightly and was taken out of the office with red eyes, and then was rudely stuffed into the car like throwing a sack.

Office of MI6.

The man in the classic three-piece suit was a little surprised. He raised his head from piles of documents and took the documents handed over by his subordinates.

"What did you say? He has a history of mental illness?"

This is ridiculous!

Mycroft thought it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, "God, what are those people doing!? A man with a history of mental illness is running for Prime Minister? What do they want Britain to be?" He dared not Confident and extremely angry, he still put the document on the table, "It's still the past without concealing it! Are they crazy? Or am I crazy?"

The information clearly stated Ken Quint's biography, including his parents divorced when he was a child, because her mother had mental illness, and Ken also inherited this mental illness, and was even in a mental hospital because of it. received treatment.

"How did he pass the audit?!"

The subordinate's forehead was covered with cold sweat, "Boss, this is only found out. It is said that the attending physician of the mental hospital was shot and killed, and the information is kept by the doctor privately, which is related to privacy."

Mycroft calmed down a little, he knocked on the table, "I'll go see him."

"Yes, I'll go get ready."

The high-ranking government official, who was already inferior to young people, felt that he was ten years older all of a sudden. He leaned on a black umbrella, straightened his spine, and followed behind his subordinates.

"Anthea?"

The female secretary was stunned for a moment, "Boss, you have an appointment with the doctor in the afternoon."

"……To shut up."

"You can't keep me here—" an angry male voice roared, slamming the table loudly, "what are you kidding! Where is Holmes? I want to see him!! How dare you—dare to treat me like this ?!"

Mycroft stopped the female secretary who wanted to follow, and walked into the room with his subordinates, "I heard you want to see me? Mr. Kent, we seem to have met once. After all, the fields of management are different, and some intersections have already happened. Very good."

When Ken Quint heard what the person said, his hands on the table slowly dropped, but his muscles were tense, and he stared angrily at the man who made him want to eat a mouthful of flesh and blood.

"Mr. Holmes..."

Mycroft gestured to him, "Sit down and talk, Mr. Quint." He walked across to Quint, leaned the black umbrella against his chair, straightened his bow tie, sat down gracefully, and folded his hands Put it on the table, "I'm glad you're still sensible, if I had encountered something like yours, I'd probably go crazy."

The person opposite did not speak.

"—Well, this is not very funny." He shrugged, "Mr. Quint, you don't seem to understand your current situation." Mycroft played with his fingers slowly, "We have nothing to talk about , Everything you have done has been exposed, candidate? That is a joke. No one will come to your rescue, of course, even if they did, they would not be able to rob people in my place."

These words are too straightforward, and people with poor psychological endurance will turn their faces directly.

That's why Mycroft said he was very happy, after all, the person opposite was a mentally ill patient.

This is the truth.

The other party was silent for a while, "How did you find out?"

"You are too arrogant, sir."

Mycroft chuckled, "I don't mind explaining to you clearly, but you have to understand one thing. After I finish speaking, you are about to go in, that black iron door." Ignoring the other party's sudden change of expression, he He continued calmly, "So there is nothing else to explain, I can satisfy you a little bit."

This is so frustrating.

The senior officials of the British government didn't care whether the other party spoke or not, and continued on their own, "Your 'Alexander Plan' is too arrogant, too ambitious but not capable. Any little person around you may make you fall." It's a big somersault, not to mention that she is not a small person, the charm of that lady fascinates me."

"...Irene Adler..." Ken Quint's face turned pale as he read out this strange yet familiar name word by word, "She's not dead."

"Congratulations, you got the answer right." Mycroft raised his eyebrows, "but there is no reward."

"Any candidate with such an ambition will not succeed. Become Alexander? Rule Europe? This is too unrealistic!" Mycroft sneered, "Your behavior is also very arrogant, is it possible that you are ignoring international law? Money laundering, public opinion, buying arms, smuggling drugs, trading human flesh, leaking national information... You are so bold, the British people will not agree to euthanasia for these crimes! "

The more he spoke, the angrier he became. The man in front of him was full of bad deeds, and he had been hiding from the British government for so many years.He is still a mentally ill patient, so he may have taken advantage of the loopholes in the law.

"Don't worry, neither Tony Nikoff nor Phoenix Maxim will escape." Mycroft approached Ken Quint and said softly, "You deserve what you deserve."

"Hehe..." Ken Quint laughed heavily, "I deserved what I deserved, but I didn't lose! Your brother, the great detective, was pulled down from the altar by me. He is just an ordinary person, poor man And that Napoleon of the criminal world, ha, he lost even more! If he chooses to help you, what can he get? He also lost his life in vain. I guess you have already got his huge underground power, Holmes, sit down! It feels good to reap the benefits of a fisherman, right?!"

Mycroft gave him a fixed look and shook his head.

"He's crazy, take it to Dr. Lecter."

He got up and left.

#####

With much of the mess left by Ken Quint still left to be cleaned up, London isn't exactly at peace.

The successive deaths of Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes have aroused too many people's attention. The duel of the century on the roof of the Barts Hospital made the whole of London tremble. no more.

When Sherlock decided to appear, he was told by Mycroft that he was "dead" and had no way to return to Baker Street. This kind of sourness made him feel for the first time what it means to be poor for words.

It is hard for John Watson.

"Why don't you secretly send a letter?" Jasmine cautiously gave a suggestion. She was an insider. Some time ago, Sherlock had been making his own "corpse" at Barts Hospital, and her assistant was her.

A gleam flashed in Sherlock's eyes.

"What about him?" He asked his elder brother who had become bald a lot during this time.

"Who?"

Sherlock frowned, "It's not funny Mycroft, your joke is too low-end, has your IQ dropped to such a level?"

Mycroft didn't smile. "Ask him. I wasn't joking, but now, I know."

His attitude is very suspicious.

Mr. Detective Baker Street's heart skipped a beat, and his expression remained calm, "Oh, answer me then."

"He's not here."

"You used was." Sherlock stared closely at the man behind the desk.

"Yes, do you have any questions? Do you need me to explain the usage of the past tense to you, a native Englishman?" Mycroft said lightly, showing nothing on his face.

"You are attacking me personally. We agreed not to do this. Mom will be angry at your attitude towards me."

"Why, you want to sue?" He didn't like his younger brother.

"Dead?" Sherlock started, but quickly denied himself, "No, no. He's just not in England anymore."

Mycroft ignored his words, and instead said, "You promised me to help me handle things in another capacity for three years."

"I can go back on my word."

"You have nowhere to go, and he's not here," Mycroft admitted at last.

There was a slight smile on the corner of Sherlock's mouth, but it disappeared quickly. He glanced at his brother and said, "Middle East, Russia, Philippines, where else?"

Mycroft cast an enigmatic look at his brother.

"U.S."

Molly went to Baker Street to help Sherlock pack his bags. He would have gone by himself, but couldn't, for the same reason.

Jasmine couldn't stand John's emaciated appearance. It happened that she had obtained the "dispensation" from Mr. Holmes, so she told John their plan—in plain language.

Sherlock told her so.

"You mean, Gent is alive, and Sherlock is alive."

After listening, the kind doctor was silent for a while, and then spoke slowly.

"Yes." Jasmine glanced at him cautiously, for fear that the doctor would explode suddenly.

"God—this, this is so..."

He seemed to be speechless, and Jasmine comforted him, but he didn't know whether to cry or laugh.

After calming down a bit, John sniffed, "Forget about Sherlock, why did Gent do this? Even if he didn't do it, Mycroft still has enough evidence to prove Ken Quint's crimes?"

Jasmine hesitated for a moment, "Well... I'm not sure, but Mr. Holmes said that he needs to clean himself up."

Wash away his former identity and become a brand new person.

John realized instantly that this was a condition for joining the Sherlock Holmes family. It turned out that he just wanted to say congratulations, and he was uncomfortable holding back because he was concerned about Jasmine's emotions.

Looking at the uncomfortable doctor, Jasmine burst out laughing, "I have a boyfriend, Dr. Watson."

"Oh, oh this... I mean, that's great, congratulations!"

"You're welcome." Jasmine pursed her lips and smiled, "I'm very happy. But now—please tell me where is Sherlock's grass?"

"What?" John was at a loss, "Grass?"

"Hmm, grass. If I heard correctly, it should be a pot of... catnip?"

John was speechless for a moment. It turned out that Sherlock was thinking about something in Baker Street, but it was just a pot of catnip?

He pointed to the corner of the room, next to the violin case, "There."

"Thank you."

When Molly left, John called to her, "Where is Sherlock now?"

"Russia? But if you want to find him, you may have to go to the United States." Jasmine smiled, "By the way, congratulations to Mary, and your daughter is so beautiful!"

"Oh, thanks!"

John Watson's smile was as bright as ever.

Mycroft wondered why his little brother was always holding a pot of catnip in a daze.

The people over there thought for a while, then threw the flower pot on the ground, and it shattered with a bang.

Mycroft was stunned.

The big detective squatted on the ground and scraped the dirt for a while, and found a small thing.

Sherlock stared at the chess pieces in his hand, wondering what he was thinking, and then jumped up with excitement.

"Where are you going?!" he yelled.

"America!" he replied with great air.

[Do you want to play a game?America is my home. 】

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The author has something to say: Cool_(:зゝ∠)_

There is a small chapter, probably

It's really small.

The pit was opened soon, I guess no more than a week.