prince and his shield

Royston was still uneasy after returning home, so he quickly called Natasha.After confirming again and again, she didn't say anything, and she was still not at ease after hanging up the phone.

Oulos looked at him frizzy and asked what happened.

Royston suddenly let go of the finger he was gnawing, and turned to look at her: "You already knew he was Steve."

Olos defaults.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rose Eaton wondered.

"I don't want to." Olos said honestly.

This reason is actually impeccable.

Royston was helpless.

It seems that there is no need to ask why you want to mislead Steve, just want to do it.

"You... forget it. No one can go back to the past." Rose Eaton nestled on the sofa, huddled together, dejected.

Oulos looked at him, they really couldn't go back to the past: "Indeed."

Royston hugged the pillow into his arms and curled up into a ball.

Olos looked at him, with reluctance and regret hidden in her eyes.

But if you lose, you lose, and there is nothing to criticize.Malicious snatching doesn't really get her what she wants, she's been taught that since she was a kid.

Royston buried his face in the pillow and rolled his head on the sofa.

The smell of his emotions...it turned out to be wine.Actually not very good.

Oulos looked at his exposed red ears, pursed her lips and shouted.

"What?" Ross Eaton threw away the pillow.

"Mom misses me." Olos said softly.

Royston froze for a moment: "Do you want to call her?"

"No, they want me to go back." Olos didn't lie.No matter when, they all hope to go back by themselves.

"It's been a long time this time." Royston touched his chin, "All right. I'm going to make a report."

He bared his teeth, very dissatisfied with those who enforced this rule.

"Then I'll go first." Olos looked at the time.

"Okay." Royston got up and looked for the special mobile phone he didn't know where he had thrown it.

did not find.

Standing in the living room with his hands on his hips, he looked around and pondered.

It's been so long I don't remember where I put it.

No, did he move once?I won't lose it!

With a hiss, he began to feel around.

It is conceivable that he could not find it.

3 minutes before giving up.He took out his laptop, went to Google, and typed Sherlock Holmes.

He could have called him directly, but someone didn't bother to answer his phone at all, thinking it was a waste of time.

Use the case to leave a message on his website, and his response can be quicker.It just so happens that there are quite a few that I can talk about recently.

In the past, the first Google that popped up this time was not his own withered deductive website, but a blog named John Watson.

He stretched his neck and hummed, and clicked in.

"...Damn it—" After turning a few pages, he slowly widened his eyes.

Has Mycroft finally found a guardian for his younger brother?How lazy is it?

London, 221B Baker Street.

Watson poked at the keyboard, finger by finger, intently, recording the case he had just solved.

"Sherlock, your phone!" He yelled when he heard the voice.

"Busy!" came the response from the kitchen.

Watson waited for a while, and the ringing stopped.

He pursed his lips, shrugged, and continued to focus on poking each word.

Soon, the phone rang again.

He closed his eyes, oh, and got up to find Sherlock's cell phone.

Grabbing the phone, he glanced at the caller ID, and he let out an uh.

"Sherlock!" There was a hint of excitement in his voice that smelled of adventure, "Someone with the note 'devil' called you!"

For a moment, he didn't know whether to be surprised that someone in Sherlock's address book had a note, or that the note was a demon.

Sherlock, who was cutting a wrist muscle at the dining table, looked up and called, "Call Mycroft."

Watson grabbed his phone and walked into the kitchen.Glancing at the hands on the table, he tilted his head and ignored them calmly.

"Didn't you hear?" Sherlock wondered what he was doing in here.

"Hear what?" Watson was dumbfounded.What else had he missed besides calling Mycroft?

"Call Mycroft," Sherlock repeated.

"I'll talk about that later—" Watson perfunctorily looked down at the darkened screen and pointed, "You have a 'devil' calling you."

Sherlock turned to him with his gloved scalpel and pliers spread out at his sides, mouthing exaggeratedly: "Call, Mycroft."

"But you have a call, devil." Watson was so curious.

"John!" Sherlock closed his eyes and lowered his head heavily, "You didn't listen to me at all."

"I also said, you have a call!" Watson also became annoyed.

When Sherlock finally condescended to explain to him the direct cause and effect of calling Mycroft when a 'demon' called, Watson still hadn't figured out what the hell he was talking about.

On the verge of punching Sherlock, the phone rang for the third time and he answered it.

"Hey - Sherlock isn't -"

"John Watson?"

Watson choked and looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock looked like you answered and saw what I was doing.

"You, who are you?" Watson scratched his nose, and looked away awkwardly.

"My name is Royston Bowen."

The voice on the other side sounded excited.

"...OK." Bewildered even more by the acquaintance on the opposite side, Watson replied, his voice permeated with strong doubts.And the name always feels a bit familiar.

"Nice to meet you."

"...Thank you." Watson became more and more at a loss.

"How is Sherlock?"

"It's okay." Watson looked at Sherlock, silently mouthing an 'explain to me'.

"Indeed, it should be much better than Olos." Royston grabbed the phone, lay down on the sofa, and sighed.

Sherlock is still cute.Mycroft isolated him from himself, presumably because of this idea.After all, it was not easy for the Sherlock Holmes family to be a little more normal.

"Do you have anything to ask Sherlock?" Watson couldn't bear it anymore after the thoughtless exchange of greetings, and asked directly.

Royston finally remembered his business: "Help tell McCoff that I'm going to bring Olos home to visit relatives."

Watson... So that's what he meant by calling Mycroft.

He looked at Sherlock with disapproval all over his face.

Sherlock looked back at him, frowning: "I told you, call Mycroft."

Watson twitched his face.If you say a few more words and explain clearly, your mouth will rot, right?

"I see. I'll tell Mycroft." Watson responded. "Is there anything else you want?"

"No more." Royston replied.

"OK..." Watson licked his lower lip, waited for a while, but the other party didn't intend to hang up the phone, "Then, I'll hang up first."

"it is good."

"Okay, bye."

"Looking forward to meeting you." Ross Eaton remained undiminished in the face of his indifference.

"...OK." Watson nodded reflexively and put on a forced smile.

After a few more daily words, I successfully hung up the phone.

Holding the phone, he looked at Sherlock: "Who is this?"

"Didn't he tell you?" Sherlock concentrated on his own business, "I thought the first thing you did was to exchange names. It's not very reasonable."

"No. I mean, what does he have to do with you? Why did he ask me? What did he have to do with McCoff? Why did he call you and ask you to call McCoff? Who is Ou? Rose?" Watson sorted out all his current doubts.

These are by no means all.

"Besides, why did you mention devil to him?" Watson flipped through his address book, looking at another special reference he found after 'thewoman'①.

Sherlock put down the surgical tools in his hand and turned his head: "You really have a lot of questions."

"Yes." Watson said firmly.

He had to make sure that Mr. Bowen, the 'demon', would not be another troublesome figure to break him down.

"Remark the devil because he is." Sherlock showed an expression that clearly expressed that he was now accommodating Watson's IQ.

Watson bit his lip and endured it.

"He has no blood relationship with me." Sherlock shook his upper body, sorted out his questions, and spoke quickly, "I should have seen your blog on Google. This is an inference, and the probability is 90.00% Nine. Because your sensationalist blog gets more hits than my professional website.”

After finishing speaking, he pursed his lips: "Mortal."

Watson chuckled, "You can find a job by relying on my blog."

Sherlock interrupted him again at a very high speed: "He is Mykoff's old enemy. He should have lost the mobile phone that Mykoff left him again. It is also an inference, with a probability of 80.00%. The remaining 20.00% %, he is more curious about you.

Olos is my sister. "

Watson understood that Sherlock was solving the questions he asked one by one.But he really didn't listen much.

Except for the one who was not related by blood at the beginning and Oulos who was his sister in the end.

"You have a younger sister?" Watson had a ghostly expression on his face.The last time he'd seen Sherlock's parents, he'd been taken aback.

While it's really rude to question whether Sherlock was actually born to his parents, he admits his mistake.

"Yes." Sherlock nodded, picked up his scalpel, and then said, "Because he just called you. I guess, you will be able to see her in less than three days.

Try not to talk to her. "

Watson was speechless: "Come on, that's your sister. I won't hook her up."

Sherlock looked up at him, and chose to let go without much hesitation between explaining the misunderstanding and letting go: "...well, that's good."

This caused Watson to be incapable of facing women normally for a long time after getting along with Olos.

"You have no blood relationship with him." Watson tried hard to recall what Sherlock said just now, but he basically only remembered that his mouth would move, "But, he is Mycroft's...enemy?"

Watson questioned his memory: "Aren't you the only enemy of Mycroft who is still alive?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes: "Don't use your dramatic ability here. He's my enemy, I'm not his."

Watson hummed.No one can match Sherlock's dramatic tension in everyday language.See, he's just scratching the surface, and that's all the blog hits.

"So, why are they enemies?" Watson was genuinely curious.

"He did what Mycroft couldn't do." Sherlock was very optimistic about this matter, and it was rare that he didn't ridicule Watson's memory like a goldfish.

"What?" Watson couldn't help opening his mouth.

Who can make McCaw deflated?

"Restrain Olos." Sherlock smiled.

"..." Watson... felt like expecting a big meal but only getting a hot dog.

But later, he knew that it was a real feast, but he lacked imagination.

"So, he seems to have robbed your sister, and that's why he was hated by McCoff?" He couldn't be pressed to death.

Watson felt that this made perfect sense.He would also be angry if one of his sisters was taken away by another man.

It seems that the elder brother of the Holmes family is still somewhat normal.

Once again, Dr. Watson completely forgot how special Sherlock Holmes was.

"Yes." Sherlock was completely unaware that Watson's snatching here was an exaggeration.

Regarding custody, they did fight for a while.

Watson suddenly relaxed when he knew Royston's identity.

As for Sherlock's words, he decided to ignore them.Just say it's my brother-in-law, it's childish to be a devil.

Could it be that he thought that the one who snatched his sister was a demon, and he wanted to destroy him?

I can't see that Holmes is still controlled by sisters.

Watson thought happily.There is a secret joy knowing that the gods still have to go to the toilet.

No wonder he called Sherlock and asked himself.Without a certain degree of understanding of the vices of the Holmes family, it is impossible to be so proficient.

No wonder he kept wanting to chat with himself.Talk to him more next time.

He also began to feel that he would have a lot in common with him.

Sherlock glanced at him, sure he had misunderstood something.

But what does it have to do with him?

The author has something to say: Watson: ... I am too young.