Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

A pile of firewood was crackling and burning, the surroundings were dim, and the man in black robe whose face could not be seen clearly sat beside him, staring at the flames jumping up and down.

He didn't speak, so everything was quiet.

This is what Elena saw when she woke up.

At this time, she realized belatedly that she seemed to have been kidnapped.

She was covered with a clean and soft quilt, and she seemed to be leaning on the haystack. It wasn't very comfortable, but it was passable.

Subconsciously moving her limbs, Elena realized that she wasn't even tied up.

There were no marks on the body, not even a mess on the skirt, and the T-square pinned under the bustle was intact.

Not even his own small satchel was confiscated.

She glanced at the people over there and did nothing. Is this the way of kidnapping in the new era?

Or is it a trend?

Elena's fingertips slid into the bag, touching the gun she was carrying.

This gave her a little more confidence.

Seeing that the man in black didn't respond, he seemed to be asleep.

Elena thought for a while, turned around and wanted to leave, but after seeing where she was, she froze in place for a moment.

It was a layer upon layer of honeycomb-like pipes, mixed together with the oppressive darkness and filled with mist, creating a damp smell.

This is London's sewers, underground London.

"Look," the person behind walked slowly to her side, "this is your new sewer."

He snorted coldly, "British, ha."

This deep voice carried some strange charm, and Elena felt as if she had heard it somewhere before.

She looked at the person beside her, "Who are you?"

Her intuition told her that this person was not hostile, but Elena didn't think that the person who kidnapped her without authorization was a kind philanthropist.

No matter what, kidnap her just to watch the sewer with her?

"You helped me once many years ago," the black-robed man beside him answered irrelevantly, "I came this time to take you away."

Elena frowned, "I don't remember."

Most of her memories from many years ago have been forgotten, and she can't remember who this is at all.

"It doesn't matter," said the man, "I just remember."

His voice was low, almost singing.

But Elena really couldn't remember.Where did I hear this voice before?

"Simple, simple way of speaking," she asked, "why did you take me away?"

"In London, there is a conspiracy against you that is starting," the man in black replied, "I can take you back to Paris."

He turned around and sat down slowly.

"What conspiracy?" Elena also sat down, "Who created this conspiracy?"

She looked at the flames in front of her calmly, "I don't think there is any conspiracy to make me leave my job."

"That person," said the man in black, "this is not my home field."

He roasted the thing in his hands again before handing it to Elena.

"That person?" Elena frowned, "Who?"

She took it, only to realize that it was half a roast chicken.

"I can't tell you," he replied, and urged, "Eat."

Although the voice is cold and hard, it has a little warmth.

Elena shook her head, and returned the food in her hand to him.

"I won't eat," she said in a steady voice, "thank you for your kindness, but please take me back. I disappeared suddenly, and my friends must be in a hurry."

The man in black looked at her, and the shadow covered his face under the hood.

He almost asked with great interest, "Even if you go back, your life will be in danger?"

"A brick falling from the sky can kill people, choke on drinking water, and choke on food..." Elena pulled out the T-square on her body for self-defense, "If you worry about these things, it will be endless."

She flipped twice, "I don't worry about this, if one person comes, I'll send a pair to the police station."

"What about conspiracy?" the man asked, "poisoning, assassination, slander..."

"Then let's conspire," Elena said quite indifferently, "I don't care. All I care about is the building."

She tossed the T-square in her hand, and then caught it firmly, "Besides, I don't harm anyone, but I will never allow others to harm me."

Since this mysterious man in black had no intention of taking her back, Elena rolled up her sleeves, planning to find her own way back.

Although it may be a bit slow to find it by myself, but Elena knew the map by heart, and she was driving around in a public carriage every day a while ago, as long as she found a sewer pipe and climbed up, she could determine the approximate direction.

"You can't find your way back," the man said firmly.

Elena got up and took a few steps, and when she heard this, she turned around again.

"Will you take me out?" she asked.

The man stared at her. "If you wish."

Elena breathed a sigh of relief, but the chicken that was still hot was stuffed into her hand.

"Eat it," he ordered.

Elena sighed and took a bite of the chicken in her hand.

The taste is actually not bad.

The black-robed man packed his things in twos and twos, and Eileen clapped her hands after eating, buried the chicken bone in the embers, and wiped her hands with the sketch paper in her pocket.

"Don't you cherish this kind of thing very much?" Seeing Elena's movements, he asked mockingly.

"I only cherish it when I'm drawing," Elena replied, feeling that this person was a bit baffled, "other times it's just ordinary paper."

"Did you build the tunnel?" she changed the subject. "I don't think that was the original design of the house. Oldek couldn't do it. You're very talented."

The man turned his head and glanced at her.

"Yes, it's me," he admitted bluntly.

Eileen looked at him again and heard the voice. He was probably only in his 30s or [-]s. Most geniuses are proud of their talents, so they probably wouldn't want to be inferior to others.

But she felt a little sorry to see the well-behaved seedlings burying themselves in the underground industry instead of doing business.

"So," Elena came up with an idea, "You said I helped you?"

She raised her head and looked at the hooded man beside her, "I happen to be short of an assistant beside me. Do you want to try being an architect?"

After saying this, Elena pursed her lips subconsciously.

Why do you feel like you said that?

It seemed that the person in front of him was also enraged, he pulled off his hood suddenly, revealing half of the silver-white mask.

Then without pausing at all, he pulled off his mask.

Holding the lamp in her hand, Elena could clearly see that the half of his face covered under the mask was scarred, pale and terrifying.

"You said the same thing many years ago," he mocked, "but how can a person with a flawed face appear in front of people openly and become the guest of the client? I used to be the guest of the Sultan King, but I can only enjoy the feast when no one is around, the emperor marvels at my talent, but privately tells the waiter 'his face makes me sick', tell me, don't you feel scared when you see this face?"

Elena remembered.

When she traveled Europe with the earl, she had been to Paris and the most famous opera house there.

It was a rare opportunity, and Elena walked around with the company of the theater manager. Not only did she highly appreciate the architectural art of the theater, but she also fell down because she touched an unknown mechanism.

And then there's this weird guy who calls himself "Eric."

He was just being kind by accident, and originally planned to send Elena back directly, but at that time, Elena grabbed his clothes and asked him if he was the architect who designed this place.

Then Eric nodded annoyed.

At that time, little Elena casually took out a brooch engraved with the family crest from her body.

She handed it to Eric, and said in a dignified manner, "It's really convenient to work alone, but there is also a lack of business sources, and you can't receive many orders. If you want to join an architectural firm, come to Manchester to find me, I will I quite like you."

After a pause, she added, "To be precise, I really like your buildings. Look, the souls of these buildings are shining."

It wasn't a handout tone, it was more of an "I think you're doing a great job! Come join us" solicitation.

Then I was threatened by taking off the mask in the same way, although it didn't work.

How old was she then?twelve?fourteen?

It feels like it's been years, and Eric the weirdo hasn't changed much.

He's really, really well cared for.

Seeing that Elena didn't answer for a long time, he cornered Elena and asked, "Fear! Shrink! What this face brings to me—"

Elena pressed against the uneven wall, the cold came through her clothes.

She blinked her eyes, and still answered in the same way as last time, "Oh."

The angry flame was poured a basin of cold water directly.

Eric was stymied again.

The two looked at each other awkwardly.

Wordless silence.

After a while, Eric let go of her uncomfortably, and Elena straightened her clothes.

After walking a few steps forward, Elena was a little surprised that the strange man was standing there.

"There are so many idiots in the world who think that smart people are wasting air to live in the world," she sighed, motioning for him to follow, "seeing your talent, they will be jealous, and then they will take a point to attack you. I thought you After so many years, I should have thought it through."

Eric didn't move.

Looking at the shadow in front of him, he said slowly, "Someone is coming."

Elena seemed to hear it.

She subconsciously looked at the thick fog ahead, then took a few steps back and raised her gun.

The sound of boots stepping on the hard floor was clearly audible, and it seemed that it was not the same person.

The distance gradually narrowed, and the figure in the thick fog slowly appeared.

"You're all right," said the leader in an old and hoarse voice, but with an air of demagogy, "my dear niece."

Sherlock was still groping along the sewer, he always felt that something was wrong.

Oldek, who murdered the homeless man and burned him undefended, has been sent to jail to await trial, and McFarlane has been exonerated, but there seems to be someone else behind it.

He didn't really believe that this was Oldek's conspiracy. With such a level of detail, there was someone to help clean up the matter afterwards, and even added so many details.

Is it just revenge for an old lover?

No, it's more like killing multiple birds with one stone.

Originally Oldek's plan should be to use suspended animation, change to a new identity, erase those things on the account, and then take revenge on the lover who betrayed him.

The only difficulty lies in the purpose of Elena's kidnapping.

But what if someone behind the scenes did it on purpose?

Disclose a little information about the ledger, know that Elena will not just sit idly by, and then take this opportunity to use the underground passage to kidnap Elena...

He quickened his pace, secretly hoping he'd arrive in time.

On the other side, upon hearing the news of his daughter's disappearance, the Earl secretly stuffed a biscuit into his mouth with a dazed expression.

He swallowed the biscuit crumbs in his mouth, and hurriedly asked, "Is it from the shipyard? Are you here to snatch someone?"

The author has something to say: cold jokes:

Q: Why didn't the rice bucket drive his boat this time?

Answer: You need to declare tax when you take a boat abroad (x)

At that time in Paris, the Earl was supposed to go to the Opera House with Elena, but there was no way, the French desserts were too delicious (x)

In the comment section of this chapter, ten people are randomly selected to give out red envelopes! !Ulla!

**Tweeting time, it is in vain, super beautiful, handsome and full of beauty! !

The world needs more heroes

Author: White shirt is still

Philomena silently looked at the tattoo on her wrist, which suddenly appeared after being hit by a bullet two days ago.

She was helpless with this thing, so after making up her mind, she pressed the tattoo with her right index finger again.

Almost instantly, she heard a voice that no one else could hear except herself.

[The hero system is officially launched, hello, I'm Athena. 】

【This world needs more heroes. 】

Speaking of which, the cover of "This World Needs More Heroes" is also a must-have skill for me to hook up wives (x)

Reminiscing that other people hooked up with their wives because they praised Wen Hao. I was hooked up because Lydia’s book cover was beautiful. I can only say that tears flowed down