Miss Watson of the Sherlock Holmes

Some of us killed London.

The people present couldn't help looking at each other. They felt a sense of confusion for a moment. They didn't know whether the gentleman was talking about the past tense or the present tense, or what was going to happen in the future.

"Which London is it?" James Bruno frowned: "No, no London is dead."

"Since there is no dead person, how can we talk about finding the murderer."

"No?" The gentleman smiled, and he tilted his head. Ursula strangely received the meaning of the other's action. Did she ask her to open the curtain?

She hesitated for a moment, and her eyes met with this gentleman, as expected, she was signaling to herself that she was too self-conscious about calling this "Moriarty" around.While Ursula was thinking, her body moved involuntarily, until when she opened the half-covered curtain, she suddenly realized a problem.

He is definitely not Moriarty. As a "tenth-level comprehension player in "The Collection of Sherlock Holmes", Ursula can swear that the professor in the original book is definitely not this character, and the other party's natural little movements, It is definitely Sherlock Holmes himself, no, it should be said to be his shadow.

Then comes the question, why is the shadow of the great detective so active, and calls himself Moriarty.

In Ursula's cognition, although Mr. Holmes regards Professor Moriarty as an opponent, he also admires the resourcefulness and methods of the criminal leader, but you have to say that the dark side of Mr. Detective admires this It is absolutely impossible for the professor to inherit his name after the other party dies.

There is nothing new under the sun.

This is a favorite saying of Mr. Holmes. The murder of Professor Moriarty and his gang is undoubtedly a milestone in his detective career, but the other party also said that "reading the chronicles of criminal cases for twelve hours a day, most crimes can't be skipped." Out of the box, because things are reciprocating—even Professor Moriarty is just refurbishing." (Quoted from "Uncanny Valley") In this way, in the history of human depravity, Moriarty Just another Jonathan Wilder (real, 50s, self-proclaimed "chief bandit-catcher of Great Britain and Northern Ireland").

And, with the pride of Sherlock Holmes, he certainly disdains the reputation of others.

In this way, Ursula recalled Mr. Holmes's own character with a sudden insight.

If the shadow of Mr. Holmes declares himself to be possibly the bad guy, there's only one case...

"Don't be in a daze, miss." The shadow of the great detective stood up suddenly, pulled Ursula away, and reminded: "At least don't be in a daze in front of the window at this time."

"What?" Ursula didn't feel unhappy at all when the other party was torn apart by the other party, but was full of joy in her heart. This warning made her completely confirm the other party's identity. She is a "bad guy" who can easily sit back and watch her be unlucky.

But on the surface, Miss Witch still controlled her expression.

"It sounds dangerous, so why draw the curtains."

"Of course it's to give you clues." Holmes' shadow glanced out: "Shh, from now on, just watch, but don't talk."

With a snap of his fingers, he extinguished all the light sources in the room, including the warm coal fire in the fireplace, and at the same time extinguished everyone's hesitation to speak.

Everyone stepped forward and carefully found a suitable position in the dark. All the people present were smart people. After watching what happened just now, they all chose a straight line that did not exceed the station of the gentleman, and quietly looked at the person who was caught. open the window.

The scenery outside the window has not changed, and it is still the street scene of Baker Street that is no different from reality, except for the astonishingly large "full moon" hanging in the sky, and the too clean air, which is full of industrial poisonous gas that plagues the people of London in reality , always emitting an ominous gray color, the dense fog that shelters the dark side of the city does not exist in this world.

The shadow world of the famous Fog City does not have those tumbling dirty fog, which is simply contrary to the name of shadow, but this abnormal phenomenon proves the conclusion that "London is the reflection of London's dream lake", since it is The projection of the dream, this kind of poisonous gas that is disgusted by the people of the city is naturally impossible to appear.

This also allowed Ursula and the others to clearly see the scene on the street—just as when Ursula was lurking on the window sill, it was empty.

Miss Sophie wanted to ask after she couldn't see anything after lighting up her magic eye.

But the Miss Witch beside her held her down when she made her first gasp.

In the darkness, Sophie closed her mouth again, because the other party's sudden increased force made her aware that her friend was nervous.

Miss Sophie thought when Ursula saw it, but she saw it too, or heard it first, the next second.

The sound of the accordion gradually approached them, and she could clearly hear the wheezing of the bellows, then the torches, the lights, the laughing clowns on stilts, and the gypsy girl on drums waving colored cloth. Bar, and behind it is a group of children cheering.

They followed the team closely, running, their faces full of curiosity.

No doubt it was a circus parade.

Sophie covered her eyes, she could only see them now through the cracks of her fingers, because the parade was too bright, too bright for her to say the word suspicious.

Whoa!

"Wow!"

There were sounds of doors being pushed and windows being opened from all sides, as well as people's exclamations, and the street suddenly became lively.

Sophie closed her eyes completely, buried her face in Miss Witch's back, and stopped to look at the street scene.

The color of London itself is in stark contrast to the brilliance erupting on this street now. Her current state is like an ordinary person who suddenly sees a bright light, half-blind. However, she is still in the In the palm of my friend's hand, letters were slowly scratched.

"Reality."

This is the answer given by Miss Paladin, who has a natural magic eye.

reality.

Ursula quickly glanced around the people on the opposite second floor who poked their heads out or opened the door to watch, and then carefully observed the children following the parade, and looked at Mr. Shadow with his arms folded in surprise.

At this time, the other party was also looking out of the window seriously, the iron gray eyes reflected the flames of the torches in the hands of the circus members on the street and the dots of the street lamps with halos.

Ursula froze, her breath came short of breath as she remembered something.

In order to confirm her thoughts, she looked at her companions. They were also looking at the beautiful scene on the street, but none of their eyes also reflected the color of the light and shadow outside the window, but it was the color of moonlight. , not that piece of reality.

Ursula suppressed her excitement and produced a small handleless round mirror, admitting that using mirrors in this place was risky, magical or not, but... she needed to look at hers now. Face.

So, by the light of the dial, she saw her own eyes in the small mirror.

Oh my goodness.

Now Ursula could only suppress her screams by covering her mouth.

The tall, thin gentleman with an alert and resolute face seemed to sense her excitement and turned his head.

Then, he showed her a particularly reassuring smile.

"It's really lively!" A new parade entered the area of ​​Baker Street. This time, there were fire-breathing acrobats in the lead, and the orange-red flames lit up most of the street.

Dr. Watson's attention was a little distracted, but before he could do some self-examination, his friend left their discussion group and walked to the window.

"Knights," Holmes asked his brother, raising his eyebrows, "they are not actors."

In Dr. Watson's opinion, this tone was not so much a question as a complete affirmation.

"Look at the costumes on those white horses, and the performance of the gems on them under the firelight. Tsk, remember that sapphire we got from the belly of the goose? It has the same fire."

After being surprised, Dr. Watson quickly looked at the knights: "Oh, Holmes, you are joking!"

"Of course not, ha, I guess this kind of priceless equipment must not be something that your department can have." The big detective rubbed his chin: "The people from your wife's side?"

"This feature..." He laughed, his eyes lingering on the face of a young knight who had been urging into the street for a while before putting on his helmet under the urging of his companions: "The same clan, oh, not just the same clan."

"To help maintain order," Holmes began to say to himself: "No, judging from their demeanor, they don't care much about maintaining order. It seems that they do it casually. The main task is... aha .”

Sherlock Holmes looked back with some joy at the man who must have known the inside story.

"Exactly what you think," replied Mycroft.

"Interesting, interesting." Holmes laughed, but he didn't say what it was. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the bustling parade on the street with his characteristic expression and posture.

"Holmes!"

Curious about what his friend said, Dr. Watson has been paying attention to Holmes from the corner of his eye, so he can support the detective's upper body at the first moment when he collapses, so as not to let that precious smart head directly hit the floor.

"Don't worry, doctor." Mycroft comforted him calmly, there was no expression of concern for his brother's health on the face of this real family member.

"Sherlock was just asleep."

"What just fell asleep?" Dr. Watson repeated mechanically, and then reconfirmed his friend's situation with a new mood.

It really seems to be falling asleep thinking, or deep sleep.

However, how could a normal person fall asleep standing up like this?Judging by Holmes' tolerance for staying up late, his sleep state has not reached its peak intensity during this period of time.

not so...

"Come on, doctor." Mycroft put his hand on his brother's left shoulder: "Let's put him in the bedroom first, it's not good to sleep on the floor like this."

"What's going on here?" Dr. Watson found that Sherlock Holmes was really sound asleep during the process of carrying him, and he was not awakened by their not-so-gentle movements at all.

"He just found the passage."

"aisle?"

"Yes, the passage to London." Mycroft sat by the bed, watching his brother sleeping peacefully, and said, "What a lucky guy, he is actually one step faster than those Ximen who followed half of London. .”

"I hope you mean the knights? They followed the procession to find their way to London."

"Yes, thanks to Sherlock, they found it. It's really unexpected." The elder brother, who was praised by his younger brother to his friends for being more capable than himself, shook his head: "I really didn't expect it, The junction of the two worlds is actually on Sherlock."

At this moment, out of sight of the two men, those knights who seemed to be shining broke away from the parade and began to rush towards Baker Street.

Eric raised his head thoughtfully, the wind element became active, and the breath of the same family appeared in this world.

"Advance?" Holding the chessboard that Ursula "forgot" in his hand, he took a deep look at the sky and started to run.

After obtaining the authority, he quickly returned to the outer city. The chubby Mr. Egghead was still riding on the wall, maintaining a precarious posture.

"I'm going to fall!" he suddenly screamed, "I'm really going to fall."

"Here they come, ahhhhhhh!"

There was a rapid and clear sound of horseshoes, and Eric jumped onto the city wall, looking into the distance, a white cloud was moving quickly, accompanied by the swirling wind.

"Fatty is riding on the wall, accidentally stumbled, and all the king's men and horses came..." Mr. Egg sang, and finally couldn't sit still in the storm brought by Xishen's army, he swayed Go down, Baji broke the eggshell.

Eric tried to reach out, but it was obvious that the established facts would happen here, which could not be stopped. When the king's men and horses approached the city, the poor fat man would definitely fall.

He stared at the eggshells with an ugly look on his face, making the leading Greek soldier wonder whether he should greet the other party or not.

"Are you okay?" the other party asked cautiously,

"Not very good." Eric replied bluntly: "Why is it early, you shouldn't have arrived so early."

"Thanks to your uncle." The leader, Xi Jun, took off his helmet, revealing long platinum hair and blue eyes, and smiled in Eric's surprised eyes.

"I have good news for you, he also came in."

"Okay, the inspection time is over." After the lights and shadows of the parade on Baker Street disappeared, the gentleman turned on the kerosene lamp again, flipped it with tongs, and Ursula took the initiative to light the fireplace with magic before sitting back. In that wide armchair.

"You can tell me your answer."

"..." There was an awkward silence.

"No one said it?" The gentleman looked at these young people: "Then I can only reason. If I say the reasoning and it is correct, then I won the game."

"You mean you don't know who the murderer is?" Ronald Thompson, who hadn't commented much in London, noticed this problem.

"This statement is not accurate. It should be said that the victim disagrees." The other party gave him a strange look in Ronald Knight's eyes before slowly answering.

"...I want to answer." A faint voice sounded.

"Please, Miss Ross."

Miss Ross raised her head and took a quick look at the questioner, then lowered her head and said in a very low voice, "I think the murderer is... Moriarty."

Snapped!

Eric quickly threw the chessboard into the air, watching a grid explode like fireworks.

"What's going on." The Greeks who had been waiting for Eric to use the chessboard to send them into the battlefield raised their heads and watched the loud explosion.

"The chessboard is not safe anymore." Eric lowered his eyes: "We have to change the way, we can't walk through it one by one."

Grid in Baker Street.

After listening to Miss Rose's speech, Ursula raised her hand: "But I hold a different view. I think the murderer is Miss Rose!"