The years I played survival games [Comprehensive Yingmei]

Through the little clerks of the British Government, Mycroft's little paltry little means.

These toffees have successfully become the latest promotional product of a certain candy brand. In order for this product to go smoothly, the boss slapped his thigh and gave it away for free!

Then there are scenes like this in the streets and alleys of London today. Countless cute children with candy bags give candy to everyone passing by on the street.

Although Britain is a country that pays attention to gentlemen and a sense of distance, adults always have some preferential treatment for children.

Who would say no to those cute little ladies or handsome little gentlemen offering you beautiful candies with their chubby hands?

The sweetness of toffee and the effect of refreshing the mind are very popular.

Don't say anything Some people don't like sugar.

The British generally like sweets, and many of their desserts are added with thick sugar to ensure enough shocking sweetness.

Of course, there is no absolute in this world, but for those bewitched guys who don't like sugar, naturally Mycroft sent someone to make them eat it in another way.

When the candy craze disappeared, basically all the bewitched people came to their senses.

They don't understand why they are crazy about those weird things these days, but this doesn't stop them from panicking and throwing out books and paintings that make them feel wrong.

And when they discarded things, the people sent by Mycroft would pick up those things and destroy them carefully.

"Magic curse in Latin?"

Willow looked at Watson suspiciously.

"I don't know either. Inspector Lestrade called and said. He thinks this is likely to be a breakthrough in the case."

Watson shrugged.

And Sherlock has put on his cloak and deer hat, ready to go out.

Willow hurriedly followed with short legs.

They arrived at a street, which was a small dilapidated house, with cars parked outside, and the police were coming in and out.

"Sherlock, you're here."

Inspector Lestrade was just going to say something about the case.As a result, I saw a little girl on the side.

Isn't this the little girl who was accosted by a pedophile that day?

He remembered that the pedophile was caught by himself.Why is the little girl here?

Willow also remembered him, and waved her little hand politely.

"Hello, Inspector."

"Uh... what's your relationship with this lovely little lady?"

Inspector Lestrade looked at Sherlock and Watson, who were sandwiching the little girl, and asked suspiciously.

"Friendship."

Sherlock said lightly.

"Okay, let's talk about gossip later, can I go in and see the crime scene?"

"Yes, but this little lady is afraid..."

"I'll be good."

Willow quickly promised.

But her assurances apparently had no effect.

Inspector Lestrade said very responsibly.

"Lovely lady, the things in there are not suitable for a little lady to look at. Maybe I can have someone take you to the cake shop in front."

It seems that it doesn't make sense.

Willow looked at Inspector Lestrade, and decisively hugged Sherlock's arm beside him.

Then I asked for help with my eyes, I want to go in and look.

She felt that Sherlock Holmes would definitely have a way.

Sherlock lowered his head and looked at her, then said to Inspector Lestrade solemnly.

"Let her in, she is my assistant today."

"Yes, I am Mr. Holmes' assistant. I know blood, murder and corpses very well. I will not be afraid."

Willow nodded vigorously.

"Sherlock..."

"I can promise."

A few minutes later, with Sherlock's assurance, Inspector Lestrade reluctantly led the man in, during which time he received many suspicious looks from the police.

But Willow is indeed very well-behaved as she said, just watching from the side, neither speaking nor moving.

Sherlock checked it carefully with a magnifying glass, and after a while he suddenly stood up, frowning in boredom.

"It's not a suicide."

"Look, there is still blood splattered here, hidden behind the sofa so it was not wiped off by the murderer, test the surroundings with the Lumilol reagent.

And the time of death is not 07:30 in the morning, but seven o'clock.

Those Latin words were not written by the deceased, but someone pulled her fingers to write them.

You can experiment, there is a significant difference between writing with your fingers and writing with your fingers. "

Sherlock said several suspicious points one after another, and it didn't take much effort to delineate the scope of a suspect.

Inspector Lestrade hurriedly sent for him.

It didn't take long to find two men who fit the bill.

Both were tall and thin, a pair of brothers who lived next door.

Sherlock glanced twice, then pointed to the younger brother among them.

"You killed Mrs. White."

"Are you kidding, how could I kill someone!"

The younger brother glared at Sherlock angrily, with a vicious look on his face, and his older brother was also very angry beside him. After all, no one wants to be suddenly regarded as a murder suspect by the police, and also be randomly identified as the murderer.

"Your sleeves are wrinkled, and your shoes are scratched. Mrs. White struggled before her death, and her fingernails were broken.

There's dirt on your feet, and there's the smell of rosemary, which just so happens to be growing in Mrs. White's yard, which is very close to your window.

Mrs. White's jewels, purse are missing.

I dug out the wallet in the dirt of the grass.

You have pinholes in your arms and the back of your hands, drug addict......"

Sherlock's speech speed will inadvertently speed up at this time, like a machine gun, and all the secrets will be revealed unexpectedly.

His words continued, but obviously the younger brother, the man who killed Mrs. White, was no longer ready to listen.

He looked flustered and terrified, looked at his brother who had already looked at him with strange eyes, he roared angrily, and then...

Caught Willow.

That's right, he focused on Willow, who looked the weakest in the audience.

He hid behind Willow and yelled at the policemen who were holding a pistol at him.

"Stand back, everyone back!

Or I'll kill her! "

Inspector Lestrade was anxious, and said to Sherlock.

"You still said you promised!"

Then he felt bad for losing his temper with Sherlock again, and he looked nervously at the murderer.

"Hey, don't do it, she's still a kid."

he whispered to Sherlock.

"Sorry, I'm not...... Hey, it's all my fault, a group of policemen can't see the safety of a child."

However, Sherlock glanced at Inspector Lestrade with some meaning.

The bull's head said something wrong to the horse's mouth.

"I promised."

Immediately afterwards, the murderer cried out in pain.

Willow is not a Valkyrie now, without the blessing of force, but so what, those fights with the Valkyrie before were not for nothing.

She jerked back a headbutt.

Because the man was hiding behind her, his head was covered by her as much as possible, so this move immediately hit the bridge of his nose.

The instant pain caused the man who just killed an old lady this morning to burst into physical tears, and he subconsciously cried out in pain and covered his nose.

But it's not over yet.

Taking advantage of the relaxation of his arm, Willow quickly got away, then turned around and kicked an unspeakable part.

"what!!!"

The screams almost penetrated the old house, and all the passers-by on the street looked in the direction of the sound in bewilderment.

Seeing an old house full of policemen, he suddenly showed an indescribable expression.

Could it be that the police are abusing lynching?

They shrunk their necks and slipped away.

At this moment, the policemen who were murdered by the wind commentary looked at the murderer who huddled on the ground cosplaying shrimp, all of them swallowed with their legs between their legs.

Inspector Lestrade looked at Sherlock, this time he understood the meaning of what he just said.

He was dumbfounded. Does the guarantee you mentioned mean the same as the guarantee I thought it meant? !

Willow glanced at the robber on the ground in disgust, and returned to Sherlock, thinking that she could find some different clues.

Who would have thought that it was an addict who thought he was smart enough to use this method to attract people's attention to the option of suicide.

The Latin curse that made her curious before was just written by that guy.

"Good evening, how is your day?"

Mycroft stood there gracefully.

Willow said unhappy. "Nothing."

"Then you may hear my news."

Mycroft smiled.

"With reliable information, the priest will start summoning Satan in three days."

"Isn't it NO.13?"

"Obviously, those people who have been deluded have lost their rational thinking, because of the cute candies we recently distributed, they are a little anxious."

When Mycroft said the words irrational thinking, there was some sarcasm.

Although he is a little bald and has a fat body, he has an innate British gentleman's inner taste, and when people see him, there are only two words, elegant.

Of course, Willow knew that he was actually not as gentle and gentle as he appeared on the surface. After all, a man who was secretly called the British would never possess gentle wrists.

What's more, this person has even higher intelligence than his younger brother.

So it's quite reasonable for such a person to look down on those who can't think with their heads after being bewitched for a while.

"That's really... great."

Willow's eyes sparkled and she smiled innocently and cutely.

"As soon as Satan appears, I will definitely beat him back to his hometown.

Chasing after him these days is killing me. "

"Of course, I just don't know how we can help you? As long as we can do it, please feel free to ask."

迈克罗夫特像是没听见一个可爱的淑女说要暴揍传说中的恶魔撒旦的话。

"Well, I think I can do it myself, but maybe you can help evacuate the crowd in advance, and if there is a fight, maybe the movement will be a bit loud."

Willow smiled sweetly. "