me and my vest

Jonathan Crane is a born criminal with a penchant for keeping people in fear and a strong sense of vigilance.

When Shilu stepped into the stairs, there was no electronic equipment to be seen. All the surveillance cameras were removed, and there was not even a single electric light here. I am afraid that it was done so desperately to prevent someone from secretly using the circuit.

The detective looked at the bottomless passage and took out a flashlight.

Isn't it normal to carry a flashlight with you in order to investigate various hidden places?

According to the direction of the wind, Shi Li quickly determined the approximate direction and the location of the exit, ran along the wall to make a mark, and soon saw a place that should be an office area.

One of the rooms was still lit.

"Have you finished your work today?"

Jonathan Klein asked indifferently. The glasses on the bridge of his nose reflected faint light in the dim environment, making him look even more... evil.

However, he combed his hair meticulously, put on a suit, and looked like a gentle scum.

"Three barrels have been poured."

"Put it down twice more, and then lock the door." Klein picked up the white coat on the chair, "I still have a few patients to treat."

Of course we all know the method of "treatment".

"By the way, that John Hardwick, did Falcone send someone to take him away?"

"Not yet." The younger brother who followed Klein shook his head, "They said they have a deal tonight, and they will come to pick him up tomorrow."

"They wanted someone, and they're being so perfunctory now." Klein said dissatisfiedly, while putting his hand on the doorknob, "Don't they know how terrifying that consulting detective at the police station is?"

"You will call them later."

The door opened.

A black shadow struck Klein's head and face, and hit Klein's neck heavily. Naturally, the younger brother behind him was not spared either.

Shi Li threw away the steel pipes that he temporarily requisitioned from the ground.

Clang.

Metal products fell to the ground and hit the concrete floor, making a crisp and cold knocking sound.

Klein fell to the ground, and his consciousness gradually fell into darkness. Before he passed out completely, he heard a word from the consulting detective he had met once.

"Actually, I don't think there is anything scary about me. By the way, Doctor Klein, do you feel how John feels?"

Shili was the only one present who was still awake, so he didn't deliberately maintain his personality, but even if the real Sherlock Holmes was here, he would probably do the same.

He regarded Klein as a floor, and stepped heavily on it.

The detective's partner needs to be cherished by the detective.

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

"Watson, Watson, are you all right?"

Watson felt that someone had untied him from the chair, and that person had removed the hemp rope that was tied to his body, carried him down, and made himself half-lying on the ground.

Great, this improves blood flow and allows the patient's body to...

No, where am I?

"... Sherlock?"

"It's me." The detective put his overcoat on Watson, and the two of them were sitting in the corner. He half put his arms around Watson, and Watson leaned on his chest, "How do you feel?"

"Fortunately, it may be a slight concussion, where is this?"

Watson covered his head. At such a close distance, he could clearly see the detective's gray eyes in the dark, which reflected the iron railing of the door.

"Arkham Asylum on Naihe Island."

"Damn it, who brought me here?"

"I'm sorry about that, Watson." The detective lowered his voice, and put his own hat on the detective's head. "It's a psychiatrist named Jonathan Crane - he uses hallucinogens and controls Enemy, obviously because I tied you here."

"I prepared when I jumped out of that damn hole with you, Sherlock." Watson sat up propped up. "The good thing now is that I haven't been persecuted by that hallucinogen."

"Of course, I came early enough."

Under the moonlight, the dust was rising and falling in the air, neither of them spoke, the detective was thinking, and the doctor was trying to make himself less dizzy.

"Have you dealt with it?"

In the silence, Watson suddenly asked.

"Not yet." The detective replied immediately, "But I have already figured out the general route. When you recover, we will leave. Gordon is waiting for the special forces outside, and they will be here soon."

"I think I'm done, let's go."

"Really? It will take a while for those idiots to react, are you sure you don't want to take a break?"

"No, I can move freely."

"Okay, then let's go, you follow me closely."

Shi Li stood up, took out a bunch of keys and opened the locked door, "Watson, there are many mentally ill patients here, if you happen to see one or two strange ones, be careful not to shout out. "

"I understand."

The detective led the doctor straight to the depths of the basement in a quick and quiet manner, and he heard Jonathan Klein and his men say that they wanted to pour two more buckets of something.

Apparently the scarecrow is not taking out the trash, it could be drugs, it could be hallucinogens, or it could be a bucket of money, whatever.

The sound of rushing water became clear, as if a stream was flowing at the bottom of Arkham. How could there be such a loud sound of water in such a place?

Shi Lu gestured to Watson to stop, and sneaked his head out to look over.

There is a lower large room, surrounded by large stone brick walls, a few old electric lamps are hung from the ceiling, and the generator is rumbling, and this is probably the only place in the entire basement that provides electricity.

A couple of tall men in red overalls were pouring something into a bathtub in the corner, and a few others were sitting at tables with steel basins, mixing something in gloves.

It looks like a black heart workshop here.

Of course, the most important thing was the barrels Klein mentioned—several barrels were being poured into the huge ruptured water pipe.

That water pipe connects the water supply system throughout Gotham.

"I remember Oswald Copperpot saying someone stole the Wayne Enterprises microwave vaporizer."

"You mean...they're pouring hallucinogens into the water system?" Watson asked in a low voice, "and then use that machine to spread it all over Gotham?"

"I think so." The detective also answered him in a low voice, "Watson, it seems that your reasoning level has really improved a lot. Although a lot of it is based on intuition, it is also very good."

Is it normal for a detective to carry a small camera with him?

Shi Lu took out his camera and started taking pictures. For the convenience of prosecution, these are all evidences.

"Watson, you go along this road first. I have a gun here. You can use it first. I'm going back to do something."

"Ok."

"Wait, you get my police officer ID, if those people need to see it..."

Watson groped in the dark and found the holster on the detective's waist.

Sherlock has always been reluctant to reveal his plans to me, and no one can figure out what he is thinking, but he is almost infallible—that's what Watson thinks, and he has always believed in him. I don't understand.

Watching Watson walk away, Shi Lu installed the camera and went back. He was afraid that something might happen to Watson. Now that he has settled down, he has to go back to see the situation of Jonathan Klein and the clown.

The lantern in the office had been blown out by Shi Li, and he swept over with a flashlight, and the bright white light shone on the Scarecrow.

He hasn't woken up yet.

Very good, tied up with hemp rope and stacked with his little brother.

The detective continued to walk forward. At this time, he also heard the chaotic voice behind him getting louder. If the special forces came in, even if they were divided into several teams, there would be rules. Running around.

He walked inside, so it doesn't matter.

The clown's room is almost here.

Going around a gray-white wall, the detective saw the iron gate.

The bolt of the iron gate was still there, but the cane on it was gone, and a hole came out in the wall next to it, so the clown was naturally nowhere to be found either.

A small patch of blood dripped on the ground, and the detective crouched down to find a playing card with the joker on it.

The blood was drawn by the clown himself with an iron sheet, and a few large characters were written on the ground with it.

Thank you.

The clown's smiling face almost appeared.

He knows he will come back.

Thanks for the cane or for the commotion that got him out?

The detective stood up again, raised his legs and stepped into the room.

Klein would not install electric lights in the patient's room, not even for a special patient like the clown. The detective could only observe bit by bit with a flashlight.

There are nonsense carvings all over the walls - not to mention pipes and bats, lots of smiling faces, an entire wall painted in green and white, and even a map of Arkham's inner basement .

Scarecrows... can't play with clowns at all.

He should know everything that goes on here, from the microwave vaporizer to the hallucinogens.

"Mr. Holmes."

A hoarse and deep voice sounded, and the characteristic black cloak hung on the ground, and Bruce appeared like a real nocturnal creature.

"Dr. Watson is not at Falcone's."

"Well, I understand. Watson is out. I found him here." The detective turned back. "Bruce, someone is trying to diffuse hallucinogens through a microwave vaporizer."

"..."

"It's not the gangsters in Gotham. They just want to make money, not destroy this place. The threat is from the outside. You need to check."

This time came the sound of neat footsteps.

"I'm not familiar with this place after all, you need to look for clues."

"I see, sir."

Someone kicked the door open, and Gordon surrounded the room with heavily armed special forces, pointing their guns at the two people inside.

"Paltrow?"

Bruce pressed the mechanism and quickly went up. Before the military flashlight could reach him, he had already left.

"Doctor Hardwick is already in the medical vehicle." Gordon glanced at the leaving Batman habitually. "The machine has also been confiscated. What else can we do?"

"some."

"Gordon." The detective smiled, and took out a bunch of crumpled documents from nowhere, and no one knew when he pulled them out of Klein's office, "Are you interested in destroying Gotham?" Biggest gangster?"

The author has something to say: Let me share with you the candy I ate in the original book.

Holmes: I was alone at the time, because Watson was not with me because of marriage.It was the only selfish act of his in our association.

Watson: Even when he is dying, he is still the master. (The part where Sherlock pretends to be sick)