[Comprehensive British and American] Chaldea Reconstruction Documentary

What girls are made of.

Tears, flesh and blood, and hopeless laments and cries?

You are so beautiful with blood-red flowers blooming in the mud on a rainy night.

Time flies, and soon came the day agreed with Mycroft. The 'British Government' was not capable of working, and it went through all the formalities for Rhea's entry perfectly.

The last time I went to the UK, Rhiya, who was a smuggler with a spiritual child, sat obediently on the seat of the plane, staring at the white clouds outside the window, feeling a little melancholy about leaving home.

The plane landed, and Mycroft, who had arranged it properly, sent someone to pick it up early, until she got in the low-key black car, and Rhea didn't know where her destination was.

Sitting with her in the back seat was a neat and capable woman in business attire.

"Excuse me, where are we going now?" The serious atmosphere made Rhea speak cautiously.

"You'll know when you arrive." The secretary, who abides by her duties, obviously won't talk too much.

After nearly an hour's drive, Rhea was taken to a rather dilapidated warehouse. In the middle of the dilapidated environment, a middle-aged man stood upright, with his hands folded on a straight black umbrella, calm and pretentious.

This should be Mycroft Holmes.

The moment he saw Rhea's face clearly, a bit of surprise flashed across the intelligence chief's face.

He has seen this little girl, from the surveillance video at Sherlock's door, she visited 221B Baker Street that day, and then left with a girl who appeared out of thin air.

Mycroft will carefully review all the information about his younger brother, let alone these two strange girls who are obviously involved in the supernatural field. Rhea was listed as a key point by Mycroft without knowing it. Observe the object.

But no matter what channel he used, Rhea's identity was still a mystery, and since she never appeared near Sherlock again, Mycroft slowed down his investigation.

The 'British Government' did not expect that it would be able to reap unexpected joys in dealing with Moriarty's matter this time.

In other words, if the little girl had some kind of supernatural power, the odds that she could help him catch Moriarty skyrocketed.

"Are you Mr. Mycroft Holmes? I'm Rhea." Seeing that the person in front of her seemed to be immersed in her own thoughts, Rhea couldn't help breaking the silence.

Mycroft nodded as an admission: "Miss Rhea, to be honest, I am very curious about your identity. There are few existences in this world that even I can't figure out the details."

Is this a different kind of compliment?

"I'm just an ordinary game planner." Facing Mycroft's temptation, Rhea could only give the answer that she had discussed with Da Vinci. Ya thought, she could be an ordinary game planner.

"Okay." Mycroft has his own way of dealing with humans with superpowers like Rhea. When he is sure that the other party is not malicious, he can't push too hard.

"Then what help can Miss Rhea provide me in the process of hunting down Moriarty?" This was the question that Mycroft was most concerned about.

"Although I know what kind of person James Moriarty is, what I can do specifically is to provide some military assistance." Rhea thought about it and gave her own thoughts.

Mycroft let go of the paradoxical point that the game planner could provide 'military assistance'. He was just thinking about how to maximize the effect of Rhea's free labor.

"Sherlock Holmes, you must have met Miss Rhea. My worry-free younger brother always likes to cause some troubles beyond my ability to solve. It is really incompetent for me to supervise him personally, so I don't know. Can you help me look after him for a while?" After thinking quickly, Mycroft made his request.

"Yes." Rhea, who understands what protective surveillance is, nodded lightly, expressing that she is just a brick, and she can move it wherever she needs it.

The meeting with Mycroft was over, and the sky was getting dark.

London at night seemed to overlap with that fog-shrouded singularity. Rhea felt the magic power belonging to Jack the Ripper roaring and boiling in her magic circuit, and her throat suddenly became thirsty, as if she was longing for something.

This is her, what's wrong?

[When the master uses the power of the heroic spirit, there is a certain chance that he will be affected by the experience and personality of the heroic spirit himself]

The red handwriting appeared, solving Rhea's doubts.

During the Battle of New York, Matthew's strength was the same as her pure personality, clean and pure.So Rhea didn't feel any burden when she used it, but Jack was different. She was a collection of resentment. Although she paid extra attention when lending her power, Rhea was more or less affected.

Rhea calmly accepted the reason for her sudden discomfort. Not all the heroic spirits summoned in Chaldea were named "heroes", and there were also existences with blurred boundaries like Jack.

And she chose to accept all the differences of these heroic spirits, and because of this, she was also accepted by the heroic spirits.

After returning to the hotel that Mycroft had booked for herself and resting for the night, and after adjusting her state, Rhea was about to fulfill the agreement with him: hide in the dark, protect Sherlock Holmes, if it is convenient, Look after John Watson.

For lurking and concealment, there is nothing more convenient than Assassin's inherent skill [Breath Blocking], the magic power permeates the body to make a disguise, Rhea's whole body directly blends into the surrounding environment, and the sense of presence is instant Insignificant.

With the help of Heroic Spirit's high mobility, Rhea quickly got into 221B Baker Street and started her voyeuristic, no, surveillance mission.

221B is no different from the last time Rhea came to visit. The spacious living room is connected to the kitchen, and the messy bookshelves complement the dining table full of experimental instruments.

Rhea chose to squat next to the bookshelf near the window.

The angle of view here is wide, not only facing the chair where the 'client' is sitting, but also monitoring the outside of the window and the stairway at any time.

From Rhea's perspective, the long-armed and long-legged curly-haired detective was nestled on the long sofa, obviously bored because he didn't have any cases he was interested in.

The simple and honest blond military doctor diligently updates the mysterious case he and Sherlock solved together on his blog.

Just when Rhea lamented that these two people had quite a peaceful posture, someone rang the doorbell of 221B.

"Go and open the door, I hope this goldfish can give me some surprises," Sherlock, who was slumped on the sofa, called his good partner unceremoniously,

The good-tempered Watson was obviously used to Sherlock's unsophisticated posture, and without any complaints, he got up to receive their client.

Going upstairs with Watson was a blond woman with slightly revealing clothes. Years of training made her lose her beautiful face and figure, and she was obviously crushed by life.

"Prostitute." Sherlock glanced at her, and said her occupation unabashedly.

This is not judging by appearance, but reasoning with reason and evidence.

The haggard woman was not surprised: "You are indeed as Bob said, and your judgment of people is terrifyingly accurate, Mr. Holmes."

Bob is one of Sherlock's many homeless eyeliners, and he is also the bottom of the society. It is Bob who reminds her that she can come to Sherlock when she encounters unresolved incidents.

"Can you tell us what you entrusted." Watson, who was equally gentle and gentle towards everyone, moved a chair for the somewhat down-and-out client, just like he treated Rhea at that time.

"As Mr. Holmes said, I am indeed a prostitute, and my name is Lucia." Lucia didn't seem to have any grudges about her career, "I live in a slum in the east. Recently, many people in the slums have no explanation. They disappeared miraculously. At first I thought they just found a regular employer, but the girl who has been missing for the longest time has not been seen by anyone for more than a month. I think something happened to them. Please help me. I just want to know if they're okay now."

"Has Scotland Yard been informed?" Watson demanded.

"I've been there, but the police there said they just fell in love with good money owners. Let me not make a fuss. They haven't received any missing person reports." Lucia, who was still calmly narrating before, answered this question Couldn't help but twitched the corners of his mouth and smiled wryly.

No one cares about how many less people there are in the slums.

"How many people are missing?" Just now, she didn't care much about Sherlock suddenly moving to the chair closest to Lucia.

"Six, six girls." The frightened Lucia replied stumbled.

"Six gangsters will find stable employers within a month. What do you think is the probability of this, Watson?" The detective suddenly became emotional and asked his partner.

"...Very low?" Watson, who was always torn down by the harsh Sherlock no matter what he answered, said his answer with some hesitation.

"The possibility is almost zero." As soon as Watson finished speaking, Sherlock picked up the conversation. "Interesting, six victims, the prisoner has not revealed his flaws so far, interesting." Meeting his satisfied commission, Sherlock clapped his hands and walked around the living room.

"Sherlock!" Watson raised the decibel, trying to remind the detective in front of him that the six girls might still be alive and there was no accident, so don't irritate the client in front of him.

Looking at Holmes who was in a state of excitement, Lucia didn't say anything, but just took out a pack of loose pounds wrapped in a silk scarf from her handbag, which was all her savings, and Lucia handed the money to Watson. "Mr. Holmes has accepted my commission. He doesn't seem to have a fixed commission fee, but that's all I have. If it's still not enough, please allow me some time."

Watson was a little embarrassed holding the money in his hand.

Looking at Lucia who was a little embarrassed, Rhea who was secretly watching from the side wanted to help her pay directly, but Sherlock didn't care about this, and he didn't continue the topic of entrusting money, but asked her to leave her address, and then they Will be visiting.