me and my vest

"Jonathan Klein?"

"Yes, the thing contained in the toy rabbit should be the hallucinogen he used." Bruce obediently held the milk glass handed to him by the housekeeper, not daring to say a word.

After all, the elder in front of me is x3.

"I tracked down a clue not long ago." The detective touched the pipe in his pocket, "Falcone seems to have purchased a batch of supplies. He divided the items into two batches at the port and sent a batch to Aka on Naihe Island. Tom, I think it's the dolls you're talking about."

"That's right, Mr. Paltrow, the batch he took away was drugs, hidden in the little bear doll."

"You checked clearly." The detective looked at Bruce with admiration, "I went to Naihe Island last night just because I noticed something was wrong with Klein. I haven't figured out what he's doing yet."

Bruce coughed twice, embarrassed to say how he knew it.

—Batman hangs Falcone's men in mid-air all night.

Of course, I played so many times.

Gently.

Bruce got the truth by force, of course a little faster than detection and reasoning.

"So the next question is, we have to find out what the use of the batch of hallucinogens purchased by Arkham is, they are far beyond the amount that patients can use." The detective has become interested, "There must be There's a bizarre, colossal conspiracy."

"I have to go and find out." Shi Li stood up abruptly. He really didn't know what Klein was preparing. If he wanted to know, he still needed to investigate.

As the butler of the manor, Alfred naturally stood up, "I'll see Mr. Paltrow off, Master Bruce, you can stay and have breakfast first."

"Ok."

Bruce, who had already stood up, had to sit down again. He could sense that Alfred seemed to have something to say to the detective alone.

Wayne Manor was built on high ground, with long marble steps to the main entrance, and trees and green areas and fountains and things like that on both sides.

"Mr. Holmes."

The detective's mind was obviously already on the case he just got. He didn't care about the scenery of Wayne Manor at all, and he didn't even notice Alfred who came to see him off. He just walked down the steps.

"Well, over there at the port... oh, what did you say?"

"Can you let me know when you find the clue?"

"Of course." The detective stopped in a hurry, "After joining the police department, I can understand Gotham's problems more deeply. Bruce's choice may not be the most appropriate one, but I think it is the most effective one. "

"I'm just as proud of him."

Alfred showed a very happy smile, "I think Master Bruce will be very happy to know your evaluation."

"It's great to fight crime," the detective said. "If there is any intelligence or reasoning, I will definitely contact you as soon as possible."

After saying this, without even saying goodbye to the butler, the detective hurriedly pushed open the gate of the manor and went out.

Alfred also turned and walked back.

Although Mr. Holmes didn't give any guarantee about Bruce in the conversation just now, Alfred knew very well that his young master had another asylum in the city.

A keen detective with extraordinary intelligence and perseverance who will never stop until he achieves his goal.

The heart that the housekeeper has been raising can be relieved a lot.

------------

"Doctor Hardwick, what are you looking at?" Anthony glanced out of the window, and stopped the pen he was using to keep writing the medical records.

In the outpatient department of Gotham City Hospital, in the open space on the right, stood a man in a black coat.

"Oh...is that your friend?"

As a true London gentleman, Watson was well received by all doctors and nurses with his elegant conversation and excessive politeness stuck in the nineteenth century.

Perhaps the constant reassurance of his partner's guests also allowed him to exercise this basic skill.

"He seems to come to pick you up often." Anthony said with a smile, "at least three out of five days."

"I think it's because of the city," Watson said. "You know he and I have just arrived in Gotham, and we haven't learned to adapt well yet."

Anthony nodded. He really couldn't figure out how anyone would be willing to go to Gotham, but it was someone else's choice. "Doctor Hardwick, your work for today is done, you can go home."

"But it's not time yet."

"Anyway, there is no job, you can leave earlier, no one will care about it."

"Okay, thank you." Watson put the surgical book in his hand into his bag, told Anthony and went downstairs with it.

"Sherlock?"

"Watson." The detective withdrew his gaze from staring at a passerby, "You got off work very early today."

"That's because Anthony saw you."

"

Then I should think about this, do you want to stay longer?Maybe I should wait for you in a place where he can't see it. "

"No, what I mean is that you don't have to wait for me anymore." Watson said, "Aren't you very busy at the police station? I don't seem to see any gangs doing business today."

"What are you talking about, Watson, of course it is more important to ensure your safety." The detective looked at Watson with the same eyes as if he had caught a seal in the river, "Of course their trading location will be changed temporarily, in case What if you just bumped into it?"

The detective walked forward by himself while talking. Sometimes he would just ignore the doctor's opinion like this, and no one would pay attention to his own speech.

A pair of bloody hands suddenly grabbed Watson's white coat.

Watson was taken aback, and touched the gun in his arms like a conditioned reflex—thanks to Gotham, Watson is already familiar with this emergency response process.

"Don't take a gun, help me, please." The blood-stained man said in horror, "I have no malicious intentions, help me, doctor."

Hearing the title of doctor, Watson immediately calmed down. He has never lacked the belief in helping others.

"What happened to you? Shot or knife wound?"

"I was stabbed, in the stomach."

The man clutching his stomach kept curling up, struggling to raise his head after confirming that the doctor would save him.

His face was also covered with bruises and blood, and he seemed to have been severely beaten, but his facial features could still be seen clearly - he had a slightly pointed nose, and his hair stuck to it like some bird's feathers On the forehead, the eyebrows are thick, and the mouth is tightly pursed, which seems to be suffering.

The man who asked Watson for help was wearing a black suit, and his abdomen had been stained darker by blood. It was strange that his feet stood like a penguin, separated to the sides, maybe there was some defect.

"Help me, don't go to the operating room, only you, save me! Otherwise they will find me!"

A traitor to the gang?

Watson supported Oswald Copperpot, "Sherlock!"

The detective who had been staring at the man finally responded, "Watson, let's take him to deal with it. I remember that there is an operating room that is vacant at this time."

"But the equipment in that room hasn't been installed yet."

"He's just taking a bullet, Watson. We don't need such a strict environment."

Of course, the detective had inspected Dr. Watson's workplace long ago, and took the two of them to the room with ease, and hung a sign that was in use outside.

"Are you going to be anesthetized?"

"No, thank you, that's it, I don't need it."

"Are you sure? That's going to hurt."

"I'm sure."

Watson then began to put on gloves, and then took scissors to cut open Oswald Copperpot's suit. That part of the clothes had been glued with blood, firmly stuck to the skin.

The detective looked around and picked a hospital bed to sit on.

Seaweed stained the trousers.

Hair is wet.

The bruises on his face were made by a stick-shaped object, which should be a crowbar commonly used by gangsters.

The blood is so dry...

"Sherlock, help me get the tweezers." Watson began to order the detectives, and he was much more professional in this regard.

The detective had to jump down from the hospital bed and search for something in the box.

Of course, even if the detective is being instructed, his mouth will not stop, and his head will always be thinking.

"You came to Watson on purpose."

Oswald Cobbot's expression froze in anguish.

"It's been a long time since you were shot and injured. There are many black clinics here from where you were injured." The detective calmly pointed out the problem. Not strong, and in gangsters, you're the brains type."

"Tweezers, Sherlock."

Watson automatically blocked his partner's reasoning.

"..." The detective obediently handed the tweezers in his hand to the doctor, and then continued to reason as if nothing happened, "If a person like you is taught a lesson by the gang boss, it must be because of planned betrayal."

"You walked all the way here to watch Watson's off-duty time."

The detective's dark gray eyes seemed to be able to read people's hearts, "I don't think there is any place in Watson that would allow you to behave like this and come here even at the risk of infection and being discovered?"

pat.

A bloody bullet was taken out by Watson.

"You took a fancy to my identity in the police station?" The detective took out the gun from Watson's pocket, "Or do you have something for me?"

Penguin - this is of course another super villain, namely Mr. Oswald Copperpot, who trembles and looks genuinely scared.

After all, that's who he is.

When you are cowardly, you are really cowardly, when you are tolerant, you are more tolerant than anyone else, and when you are ruthless, you are terribly ruthless.

"Mr. Paltrow." Oswald Copperpot's eyes were frighteningly bright—just like Edward Nygma in the police station, he rubbed his hands, "Yes, that's right, you are the same as the rumored Just as sharp."

"Ah, I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself first. My name is Oswald Copperpot, and I work for Falcone."

His hands waved excitedly, "Listen to me, I discovered a secret, war, war is coming, war against Gotham!"

"What is it?" asked the detective.

Watson began to bandage Penguin.

"I can tell you." Oswald Cobblepot licked his lips. "I want to tell you. I mean, I won't lie to you. I want to be your most loyal friend."

"I can see the situation in Gotham clearly!" His voice was a little louder, "Batman, the vigilante who appeared recently, he has already made the gangsters start to panic, and you are here at the police station, Gotham wants to Ushered in a change."

"I mean, you know, Gotham is inseparable from gangsters, and if I were to manage it, everyone would be satisfied."

"What chips do you have?"

the detective asked quietly.

The sunlight comes in from the window and hits the consulting detective's face. The shadow and the light are divided equally, just like the lighting effect commonly used in film and television works, which symbolizes that the protagonist begins to step into the darkness and stands at the junction of gray zone.

Gotham made consulting detectives make the necessary compromises.

"I have information, all kinds of information," said Oswald Copperpot, "where the drugs are stashed, and the rules of the gang's trading, and I also know that someone stole Wayne Enterprises military microwave vaporizer .”

The detective dug out a bag from the pile of discarded building materials in the corner, and began to fill it with the blood-stained gauze and medical equipment that Watson had used.

"Watson, bandage him up firmly."

"Oswald Copperpot, I'll take you to see Batman tonight."

The author has something to say: Congratulations to Penguin for developing a new branch!

The branch line that makes the joker jealous is played out!