Miss Watson of the Sherlock Holmes

"Isn't this point a bit too emmm, how to say, exciting?" Ursula trotted behind the striding Eric Holmes with her skirt in her hands, panting.

"Just looking for excitement." Little Holmes replied without looking back. He had long legs and fast steps, and soon Ursula was too tired to talk.

"Here we are." He turned a corner and stopped suddenly.

Ursula almost stopped, but was grabbed by little Holmes beside her and steadied herself.

"Oh, thanks." She breathed heavily, trying to calm down.A method like Eric Holmes who only takes shortcuts and does not choose a good path is too embarrassing for a physically weak legal system.

Eric Holmes waited for his companion to recover. He turned sideways and carefully looked at the house in front of him, which was said to be the residence of the witch doctor.

Ursula bent over, rested on her knees for a while, and followed his observations.As a result, she felt that it was as ordinary as other houses in the village, and there was nothing unusual about it.

She also tried to learn not just to see, but to observe, as Sherlock Holmes told Dr. Watson.

But counting the number of bricks on the wall obviously does not play any role in understanding the owner.

"Eric, have you found anything?" Ursula decided to do Watson's duty and ask more questions.

"On the contrary, I found nothing," replied Eric Holmes, though he said with an expression of interest that was the exact opposite of the answer.

Ursula looked at his silver-gray eyes that were glowing with excitement: "Then what are you happy about?"

"It's because I didn't find something that I find it interesting." Little Holmes touched his smooth chin and said suddenly. "Ursula, you're a witch. A real witch, not one of those liars in the back alleys of London, are you?"

"That's right, what's the matter." She tried not to touch the laurel crown on her hair.

"Then please tell me, a professional, what your home is like."

"It's just normal. How can I make such a big splash about my specialness, it's only been a few years since the Witch Hunt." Ursula replied, and then she realized what the problem was.

"Oh, ordinary, ordinary! It turned out to be this. Generally, guys who claim to have superpowers will make the place where they live weird. But this witch doctor's home is very normal, too normal."

"So he might be really capable?" Ursula looked at the house again, feeling different. Maybe this is really a house of powerful wizards?

"Perhaps." Little Holmes did not comment. "Have you recovered yet? Let's knock on the door."

He took two strides up the steps and rang the doorbell.

The door opened quickly, and a young man stood behind it, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Who are you?" He asked harshly, with the look of intending to close the door at any time.

"We are friends of Mr. Opal. We also study history and culture. I would like to meet Mr. Alec." Holmes said solemnly, without the slightest hint that he was making up nonsense.

"I'm very sorry to disturb you so late, but because we may be leaving here tomorrow, I really want to chat with the old man about the story of this village."

"Opal? Edward's friend." The young man's complexion improved and his tone softened. "I thought it was those noisy tourists again. Come on in, Uncle Alec just happens to be free to meet you. But I'll only give you an hour, he needs to go to bed early."

It seems that in the eyes of the three parties, this witch doctor has a different image.Ursula followed and young Holmes glanced curiously at the bulging muscles under the rolled up shirtsleeves of the young man who opened the door.

Mysterious to the blond aristocrat, madman to the innkeeper, perhaps a gentle old gentleman to the folklorist Opal?

Yes, she thought so 10 minutes ago, but now, she is going to take back her last sentence.

When Ursula was holding hot tea and sitting in the warm and comfortable living room waiting for her master, the door creaked.When an old man in a cloak, with feathers on his head, and a string of jingling ornaments on his body came out staggeringly.Thinking in disbelief, it's actually a bit crazy.

She tried not to look at the pile of mahogany charms, small Buddha statues, silver crosses and lucky cats hanging together.It's too spicy for the eyes. What kind of witch doctor is this combination of Chinese and Western medicine?Also, the feather crown on the opponent's head is modeled after the Indians, but why do you use chicken feathers.

As the old Alec sat across from her with a deep and mysterious look, Ursula tried hard to control her expression so as not to be rude.

After the old man approached, the carved silver medal on his neck was also clearly displayed in her sight.

A silver medal clearly in the Huaguo style is engraved with a big blessing character, surrounded by hundreds of "bat" patterns.

It really doesn't have the atmosphere of a professional Western wizard at all.

She can actually guess a little bit why the other party chose this.

Mysterious people in this era like to use oriental things as magic weapons the most.The old wizard who didn't know the Chinese characters and culture at all must have regarded the silver medal with the bat pattern of Fuga as a dark existence like a western vampire.

Although Eric Holmes could not read Chinese, he could understand Ursula.After quickly observing the old witch doctor, he began to see the reaction of Ursula, the real witch, when he saw the corner of her mouth twitching.Little Holmes realized it immediately, and then began to chat with the other party in a soft voice with a pedantic attitude.

He started chatting with the other party about the origin of a bunch of local myths and legends, all in all very academic topics.As if, he is really a professional historian.

Ursula was listening, and found that although the witch doctor was dressed strangely, he knew a lot about the history and culture of this village, and many things were much deeper than what Mr. Lando said.

Eric listened carefully, and took out a notebook to write down something from time to time.It was only when the visiting time was approaching that he asked the real purpose of this visit.

"Actually, it's a coincidence that we also stopped here because of the train. On the train, we heard a very amazing thing about you, old sir, from the passengers on the same train."

"Are you talking about the curse of the sea monster?" A thick voice rang out, and the young man who had been sitting quietly at the side finally spoke.

"Yes. That's what the other party said, that the old man cured his fiancée." Eric Holmes made a look of disbelief. "I think it's ridiculous."

"Of course. It's very absurd." The strong young man echoed, "My uncle just prescribed a herbal medicine for that weak girl to take care of her body and let her stay alone for a while to relieve the pressure from her family and the outside world. That’s all. If you feel better, your illness will naturally heal.”

"I just said, how could there be some kind of siren's curse." After receiving the scientific explanation, Holmes nodded in satisfaction, and then he looked up at the clock. "Oh, it's so late. We won't disturb your rest." He took Ursula and left.

When the young people sent them out, Holmes seemed to have suddenly remembered, and asked the other party apologetically: "I'm really sorry, I didn't ask your name just now. What's your name?"

"El Mannay." The young man replied lightly.

"Are you a witch doctor too?" Little Holmes asked curiously.

"No, I am a fisherman." The other replied. "Goodbye, sir, ma'am. There are no street lights in the village, please be careful on your feet. I wish you a sweet dream."

The young fisherman closed the door.

Eric Holmes let Ursula take him on his arm and walked slowly towards the hotel.He didn't stop until he couldn't see the roof of the witch doctor's house.

He took a deep breath, and said to Ursula. "Borrow your handkerchief. No, it's not for someone else's spare. It's your own, the scented one."

Ursula had to put back the spare handkerchief which had been unwrapped and unused, and gave him her own.

Young Holmes put his handkerchief to his nose and took a deep breath of the lavender-scented handkerchief soaked in Ursula's homemade herbal laundry detergent.Let out a long breath: "Finally I can breathe."

"What's the matter?" Ursula watched Eric Holmes sucking on the handkerchief like a black cat addicted to catnip, dumbfounded.

"It stinks. It smells like fish," complained young Holmes.

"Huh, is there? You mean that Mr. Fisherman?" Ursula rubbed her nose, why didn't she smell it, maybe it was because the two were far away.

"Tsk, he is not a fisherman." Little Holmes said meaningfully. "He sounds like your kind."

"But he said he wasn't a witch doctor, so he lied?" Ursula recalled.

"I'm not talking about the same kind, but in a broader sense." Eric Holmes folded his handkerchief and put it in his pocket, reminding him. "Think about the nobleman's story where there's another important character, the supernatural kind, where everything originates."

"Mermaid? No, siren?" Ursula and Eric said that the smell of fish soon became clear. "No, I really dug out a big fish. No, aren't you a Sherlock Holmes? Why did you suddenly switch to the supernatural channel?"

"Because the truth is the truth, no matter how impossible it is." Eric Holmes pulled her and continued to walk towards the hotel. With his good night vision, he led Ursula far away from a puddle. "After all, I have already partnered with a witch, so the influence of supernatural powers will naturally be counted."

That's not the case. Your uncle will definitely explain all monsters and monsters into scientific phenomena. Please learn from them too.Ursula Blackline.

"The question now is not whether that Al is a mermaid or some kind of siren, but Mr. Lando. What is he planning to do?" Little Holmes said, "To be honest, I smell crime from him. "

"So you still rely on your nose to detect the case." Ursula joked when she heard that the other party recognized the siren by the smell of the fish and confessed the criminal by the smell.

"From this visit, I learned something worth exploring, about the purpose of the circle and the real reason for the legend of the mermaid." Little Holmes continued without paying attention to her joke.

"However, as for what it is, I plan to tell you tomorrow."

At this time they had reached the door of the hotel, Eric stood under the sign light and raised his eyebrows. "I have to reason with my nose, after all. Good night, dear Ursula."

Three hours later, Ursula, who was put away by Holmes, who was actually dead, lay on the bed in the hotel, tossing and turning pancakes.Recalling the legends and history told by the old witch doctor, I have no clue.

Ahhhhhh, she is really curious!

Nasty Sherlock Holmes, whet your appetite!

She can't sleep!