save Sherlock

The cold wind, mixed with a lot of water vapor, pierced through the bridge hole fiercely. A homeless man was curled up in a dark and damp corner, and there was a disgusting smell in the air.

Watson tugged on his black jacket and walked into the bridge hole with his arms folded. A blue wine bottle slowly rolled out of the homeless man's hand and hit a mouse on the opposite wall.

"Zhizhi—" the disturbed mouse made a dissatisfied sound.

When did the mouse become so arrogant?

Watson glanced at the filthy homeless man, and took out his mobile phone to check the time with some irritability.

That's the way it is with junkies, they're never on time because they might hit a cracker on their way.

"Hey, it's me, look this way!" A little boy poked his head out of the hole.

Watson put the phone back in his trouser pocket, frowned and walked towards the little boy.

The appointment was obviously a middle-aged woman, why did a child come?

"Come with me." The little boy wiped his nose with his red hands, beckoning Watson to follow him.

"What about that woman?"

"Mom is working, so I came here." Seeing Watson's impatient expression, the boy immediately said, "She is really working... well, she is addicted to drugs, and a regular customer just came, You know that to do her job, you have to greet the man first!"

"Is she really your mother?"

The little boy lowered his head, raised his head after a while and said, "Anyway, I'm only responsible for delivering letters."

Watson took out a piece of money from his jacket pocket and handed it to the little boy, who immediately took out a note from his worn trouser pocket.

After the little boy left, Watson just stood at the entrance of the bridge, letting the cold wind cut his face fiercely.

His mind was full of the old wounds on the little boy's wrists, as well as the burns from cigarette butts. These hideous and terrifying scars just overlapped and piled up on the thin wrist.

Therefore, drugs are the most disgusting thing. They eat away not only the human body, but also the human soul.

I really don't know, why did my sister do this?And Sherlock too...

Watson collected his emotions, put his hands back into his trouser pockets, smiled self-deprecatingly, and then looked at the three homeless men in front of him.

"It's just you?"

The three homeless men rushed over and attacked Watson indiscriminately, but Watson easily dodged.

One of the homeless men seems to have practiced before, but their bodies have been hollowed out by drugs. Under this thin layer of skin, there are black and smelly internal organs.

Watson's gaze froze suddenly...

But...even if it is a blackened organ, there must be red blood, and the thick blood flowing in the blood vessels will always exude a seductive aura.

When the sweet smell of blood disperses in the air and scurry in the brain, it will evolve into an unparalleled pleasure.

Coupled with the sound of broken bones, the screams of pain, and the desperate eyes... that is a wonderful symphony!

Watson was stunned suddenly. He raised his trembling hands and tried his best to calm them down, but the bloodthirsty desire followed...

A long and thin face appeared in his mind. Although it was covered with wrinkles, the eyes were very sharp, like a sharp knife that could be inserted into the heart at any time.

The owner of this face is Watson's grandfather. He said with a disdainful smile, "You are my grandson, and you have the blood of the Fang family, so you are also bloodthirsty from the bottom of your heart. You don't need a psychiatrist at all. Need to kill!"

Watson clenched his fists tightly, restraining his desire to tear the tramp apart.

No... my sister and uncle wish me well!

Watson suddenly raised his head and slashed a homeless man with his palm, followed by a side kick, another homeless man also fell down, and the last homeless man was also kicked by Watson.

"If you want to rob, you should improve your physical fitness, otherwise, just like you, robbing children is not enough!"

Watson raised his left hand and straightened his hair. Looking at the vagrant who had fallen to the ground, a strange smile hung on the corner of his mouth.

... After meeting Sherlock, there is actually another way to live in life.

That bloodthirsty impulse is just a clown, I was never the so-called Fang family!

It was getting late, and it would be too late for Mrs. Hudson's meal.

Watson held the note he got from the little boy tightly in his hand, with unbearable excitement on his face.

Dinner or something may not be that important anymore!

Watson was carrying a black plastic bag, and pushed open the door of the living room with one hand, only to see Sherlock sitting cross-legged on the sofa, holding an uninterested bulldog in his arms, pouring it over again and again. Shun Mao.

"Are you abusing my dog?"

Sherlock looked back at Watson, then turned away slowly: "Where have you been?"

"Don't worry, I didn't go to Moriarty alone!"

"Aren't you angry anymore?"

"I'm not angry."

Sherlock finally let go of the bulldog that was crumpled into a mess, stood up, looked at Watson and said, "You threw my chemicals."

"I do not have!"

"Then why is there less?"

"Are you sure the chemicals mixed by the police can be used?" Watson raised the black plastic bag in his hand and shook it in front of Sherlock's eyes: "I bought you a new one!"

Sherlock froze for a moment: "Oh...I...thank you!"

"So can I go back to my room?"

"You haven't cleaned the kitchen for two days!"

"Okay... Sherlock, I'll clean up in a while!"

Sherlock reached out to stop Watson's progress: "Have you forgotten your odd and even numbers and symmetry?"

Watson raised his head and squinted at Sherlock, and said gloomily, "Then can you stop messing up all the time? You do it on purpose every time, and I'm too lazy to care about you!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and after a while, he turned and walked to the French window, picked up the violin...

In an instant, the air in the room suddenly condensed, and the sound of the violin, which was comparable to the magic sound, was simply outrageous. Watson just wanted to stop Sherlock...but what came out of the violin turned out to be a beautiful and melodious tune.

The high-frequency rhythm hangs people's hearts in the air, and the cheerful and tense melody tests the superb skills of the performers...

Watson couldn't bear to be disturbed, and slowly retreated to the room, turned on the computer...

The clue he got today, he tapped the keyboard quickly, and the keyboard keys undulated rapidly under Watson's fingers, making a "da da" sound, as if it might break at any time.

Finally, after pressing the Enter key, Watson stood up slowly, put on a black leather jacket with a smile, and just opened the door when Sherlock's piano sound stopped abruptly.

Watson smiled and said, "Very good! Why stop? I didn't expect you to play the violin so well."

Sherlock turned around and said, "Sorry, where are you going?"

"It's from Bach. You like him too?"

"You said it last time."

"what?"

"You say 'there's always going to be a genius in the limelight, unless you want to be like Van Gogh or Bach'."

"Then...you think I like him?"

"No, I don't think so! Your computer password is his birthday." Sherlock put down the violin, looked at Watson and said, "Where do you want?"

Knowing that it was impossible to fool around, Watson shrugged helplessly and said, "Maybe go to the SOHO area for a while."

Sherlock turned around in displeasure, and grabbed the violin again!

Watson exhaled lightly, quickly left the room and went downstairs...

He had already dealt with it when he came back, presumably Sherlock would not have noticed Ni Duan!

Behind 221B Baker Street, there was a sound of sawing rotten wood, and pedestrians couldn't help but quicken their pace...

The side door of an abandoned warehouse was ajar, the iron door was covered with ugly rust, and a wrist-thick iron chain dangled quietly on the iron door.

Watson sneaked into the side door of the warehouse, and accidentally rubbed the red rust with his palm.

Immediately he patted off the rust, immediately took out his black gloves and put them on...

Can't leave any evidence for Sherlock to see!

The four corners of the warehouse were guarded respectively, and there were two gangs standing in the center. Behind the leader on the left was a black suitcase.

Such a box can hold a lot of heroin, which is worth a lot of money. I didn't expect it to be a big crocodile this time!

Watson lay on a container by the side door, quietly watching another group of people inspect the goods, and when everything was ready to pay, he held his breath.

Suddenly a bullet shot at the crowd. A drug dealer was hit in the chest and fell to the ground dead on the spot. The red blood soaked the white drug.

Immediately afterwards, countless bullets flew across the crowd, and the drug dealers immediately fought back. After a hail of bullets, the police suddenly appeared and surrounded the scene.

Watson watched the scene with a pursed smile, but his hands were shaking with excitement.

I just sent an email, but I didn’t expect the police to be so quick. They hacked the drug dealer’s trading network and hacked the police system in vain!

"Bang bang—" Two gunshots exploded beside Watson.

Watson raised the back of his right hand and wiped his mouth, spit out a mouth full of dust.

How can you be a policeman with such poor marksmanship?

Whoops, it's Inspector Lestrade, who actually saw an acquaintance.

Watson folded his arms and watched the police fight the drug dealers leisurely, just short of buying a bucket of popcorn.

The police surrounded them back and forth, but the drug dealers forcibly broke through a gap. One of the drug dealer leaders escaped to the side door because of the desperate cover of his subordinates.

Damn it, let him escape. If it wasn't for the fear of being discovered, I really want to shoot myself!

Watson took a quick look at his surroundings, making sure that his position would not be seen by the police, so he jumped off the container.

He took out a black cloth to cover his face, walked to the side door and took off the iron chain on the iron door, wrapping it around his left hand.

When chasing into the alley, he accidentally bumped into a drunk man holding a wine bottle.

"Why hit me again?" The man yelled dissatisfied.

The walls of the alley were cut with red bricks, and the corners were covered with moss, and several mice were circling around a pile of vomit.

... slippery, dark, and even gross, like these drug dealers!

The leader of the drug dealer who was alone was attracted by the man's yelling, so he stopped to take a look.

Watson snatched the man's wine bottle, poured himself all over, then immediately knocked the man unconscious, and ran up to stop the drug dealer.

"Who are you?" The drug dealer leader asked calmly.

Watson didn't speak, and stomped his foot into a pond in front of him. The sewage suddenly jumped up and splashed on the drug dealer's face. At the moment when the drug dealer's sight was blocked, Watson punched him in the chest!

The drug dealer took two steps back, immediately stabilized his figure, stepped forward with his left foot, raised his arms and clenched his fists.

Watson didn't give the opponent time, one flipped, threw the chain and hit the opponent's chest, and then bent his elbows to push the drug dealer to the ground.

"Who the hell are you?" The drug dealer said in pain as Watson pinned his neck.

An unbearable bloodlust flashed in Watson's eyes, and he raised the iron chain around the drug dealer's neck.

The drug dealer tried his best to break free, threw his head back, and knocked Watson away. Taking advantage of the gap, he immediately got up to distance himself from Watson.

Watson curled his lips in disdain, and he tightened the chain in his hand.

That's it, want to escape?

This is the biggest drug dealer in this area. As long as he dies, he will probably stop for a long time.

...see where Sherlock buys it!

"Bang—" A bullet hit Watson's left shoulder.

Watson looked up and saw the drug dealer holding a gun, and he covered his wound depressedly.

When are you still hiding one?Obviously remembering that he didn't have a gun, what a mistake!

"Don't move!" There was a gunshot behind him.

Inspector Lestrade stood panting at the entrance of the alley, with his pistol raised in his left hand.

Watson exhaled impatiently and couldn't help rolling his eyes.

Damn it!You didn't shoot on time just now, and now you come here to cause damage?

In desperation, he had no choice but to run up to the opposite moss-covered wall, and then escape through the water pipe.

……

At the entrance of the dark alley, a black car slowly stopped, and Mycroft walked out from inside.