save Sherlock

The raindrops fell into the Thames River and were swallowed in an instant. It is unknown where the river will take it... Then, the rain in the sky became heavier and heavier, and it all fell into the river, with the sound of "crashing" All over the world.

Watson stood in the heavy rain, staring blankly at the river, his fingers clenched tightly on the guardrail, his joints turned white and stiff...

What exactly needs to be done?

Now I am disgusted by Sherlock... What's the point of living without Sherlock?

The rain soaked Watson mercilessly, and the old injury on his shoulder became more painful under the erosion of the cold air... But Watson still stared blankly at the river, losing his sense of pain.

What went wrong?

Watson rubbed his shoulders, and finally twisted his body...

I thought it wouldn't hurt, but I didn't expect that my physiology would sometimes take over my mind. In fact, I am not that strong.

"Ding dong——" Watson took out his phone from his jacket pocket, and immediately realized that it was still in the rain, so he quickly pulled off his jacket to cover the phone, and lowered his head to check the text message from the bulldog.

[Don't say I didn't do things seriously, I found some things from Lestrade's police system, and I also found useful information from Mycroft. ] Watson wiped his palms on his wet trousers to remove some of the rain, and then immediately replied to the text message: [How is it? 】【Based on the information you found from the murderer, I checked Lestrade's computer and found that the murderer was related to Afghanistan, and Mycroft confirmed that the missile program was also related to Afghanistan. 】【what relationship? 】

【do not know. 】

Watson was about to bow his head to reply to the text message again, when he suddenly froze for a moment, then put the phone back into his trouser pocket, and said in his brain with disgust: [You don't know how to contact me directly, so you have to use the phone?And... are you really serious about doing things?I see you are getting more and more stupid! 】【Don't be like this... Lestrade is easy to handle, but Mycroft is not easy to handle! 】【Do you think I will boil you? 】

The tiger-headed dog squatted in the new nest that Lestrade bought for him, licked a mouthful of fresh milk, ate some beef-flavored biscuits, and said casually: [I really regret it, why are you not Lestrade! 】【Then you continue to enjoy it with him, but you will be at your own risk. 】【Okay...】The tiger-headed dog chewed a few biscuits angrily, suddenly remembered something, and exclaimed: 【I was on the periphery of Mycroft's computer system, and found that the man you escaped from prison last time...should be with you. The missile program is related. ] Watson lowered his head and pursed his lips, moving his shoes soaked in the rain...

In the killer's computer, I found that he was related to Moriarty, and the missile program was related to Afghanistan.

...In this way, to find out Moriarty's motives, he must find the man who escaped from prison last time.

After all, the man was an arms dealer. If Moriarty wanted the memory stick to sell to men, why did he use it as part of the game?

No... Moriarty cannot be deduced with common sense, he wants to play a game!

So Sherlock found out about the memory stick?

There was no reasoning back and forth, but now I must meet this arms dealer. Anyway, this is an opportunity to get to know Moriarty.

Worrying about not having a chance to learn more about Moriarty's criminal organization!

Watson sighed, shook off his heavy rain-filled shoes, raised his elbow to wipe his rain-stained face, and turned away while clutching his sore shoulder... Soon, he disappeared in the rain!

London is still cloudy and rainy today, the plane took off in the drizzle, and encountered a strong airflow as soon as it took off into the air...

Watson sat still in his seat, turning his head to look at the clouds outside the window.

It's good to leave now, at least you don't have to face Sherlock...

Watson changed to a military helicopter in India, but he never saw the arms dealer in the prison——K.

When the plane came over Afghanistan, a gust of heat quickly enveloped the person, and the sweat on his body was like a layer of airtight plastic wrap.

Although it is always rainy in London, but I am used to it anyway, and suddenly jumping from a temperate oceanic climate to a continental climate is tantamount to going from a swimming pool to a sauna.

At dinner time in the evening, K was still not seen, and smoke rose from the military tent... When the night was about to fall, someone handed Watson a plate of food.

Watson glanced at the visitor, and expressed himself as fluently as possible: "Thank you."

One day is not enough to learn their language, so I can barely cope. Language learning is not my strong point.

Holding the plate of pilaf, the staple food of Afghanistan, he looked around at the people grabbing rice with their hands, and couldn't help frowning... Soon, someone handed over a spoon.

"Thank you." Watson raised his head to thank him, but it was K who he saw.

"I didn't expect you to come to me directly."

"It's a bit urgent."

K bent his waist and looked down at Watson and said, "Is there a problem between you and your boss?"

"He..." Watson's hand holding the spoon suddenly paused: "If there is someone who cares about you and worries about you... But, it may be sick, yes, it is sick. Would you want to see him again?"

"If your boss is as nice as you say, I think he'll want to see you again."

Watson suddenly raised his head and looked at K expectantly: "What?"

"He has the ability to make you follow, so he must be a powerful person, so maybe you should trust him... Such a person would not handle things like this."

"Won't it?" Watson glanced around blankly, if Sherlock didn't hate himself...is this possible?

Then why did he say that to himself?

Watson pursed his lips tightly, swallowed, and made up his mind: [System, help me hack into Sherlock's computer. 】【What? 】The bulldog shook the water off his body: 【We are still at Mycroft's house, and Lestrade is bathing me. 】【Stop talking nonsense, or I will throw you into boiling water to wash. 】【I think I should seek refuge with Lestrade. 】

[The premise is that Mycroft does not dislike you. 】

The tiger-headed dog drooped its head aggrieved: [Okay...] Watson ate a few mouthfuls of pork rice, raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise, and finally tasted the taste...

Not bad, very delicious!

Then he took a few skewers of roast meat and sandwiched them in the bread, which tasted quite good.

After dinner, Watson lay in the military tent. The temperature difference between day and night in Afghanistan was huge, and the temperature at night seemed to be back to London... He couldn't help but step out of the tent, staring at the moon in the sky in a daze, and of course the bright stars.

I always feel that this kind of moonlight is quite cold, not as good as the rainy London...

At this moment, Sherlock is sitting in the living room, and there is a bright moon outside the window...

"Tat-tat-tat--" Mrs. Hudson came upstairs with two cups of black tea on the wooden stairs, and she pushed the door of the living room: "Where is John, I didn't find him in the attic."

Sherlock stared straight ahead, and glanced at Mrs. Hudson slightly from the corner of his eye: "Well...he won't be back for a while."

"Arguing?" Mrs. Hudson blinked suspiciously, and slowly walked to the table to put down the teacup in her hand: "You have to give in to John, it's not good to let him spoil you all the time."

Sherlock pouted, and said with a pride that he didn't even realize: "You think he spoils me?"

"Of course, he is very kind to you." Mrs. Hudson paused, then turned around and picked up the teacup and handed it to Sherlock: "You know, I was not so kind to my ex-husband, I think you can go a long way."

Sherlock smiled, lowered his head, took a sip of tea, and said casually, "Really?"

"Of course." Mrs. Hudson got up, patted Sherlock's knee, and said with a friendly smile: "Coax him back, he can't really leave."

"Ding dong——" Sherlock immediately hugged the laptop and opened it with a stern expression.

Moriarty: [I managed to design a game that both of you can play. 】Sherlock: 【He wants to leave by himself. 】

[You are such a touching couple, John is willing to die for you at any time...] [I hope that our war will not involve John anymore. 】【Are you begging me? 】

[No... I'm warning you, otherwise you will pay the price. 】In the computer, Moriarty twitched the corners of his mouth expressionlessly, showing a "brilliant" smile: 【Then what are you going to do? 】【I have already got the memory stick you want, you can come and get it anytime. 】【Have you ever thought that the three of us are the same kind of people?I know you're looking to be appreciated... I've seen your site and you're just thinking. 】Sherlock immediately showed a dismissive smile, and a trace of anger flashed in his eyes: 【I'll wait for you to get it. 】【Which musician do you like? 】

【what? 】

[We are going to meet, we must know more. 】【I think we've already met. 】

【Yeah... Do you like me playing gay?Why don't you call me, you know that number is sure to reach me. 】【You want me to call you? 】

[I really don't understand style, and I don't know how John can bear you. ] Sherlock's typing fingers froze slightly, and he tapped the keyboard vigorously in a rapid rhythm: [I said not to involve John. 】【Okay...well, it's really enviable...】Moriarty's face looking at the screen suddenly became distorted: 【It's still very enviable. 】【When will you pick it up? 】

[I'll think about it and send you the address. 】

[Waiting for your response. 】

Sherlock slowly closed the computer and found that Mrs. Hudson had long since disappeared. He raised his hand and drank the black tea...Suddenly, he raised his eyelids and his eyes were full of determination!

Moriarty could be more than just a memory stick...but how would he get it?

John will definitely not be back anytime soon, although he will understand sooner or later...

But is he doing okay in Afghanistan?

Sherlock walked to the window and picked up the violin with a painful expression... It was still a Bach piece, soothing with nostalgia or nostalgia, a touch of reluctance and sweet memories...

This "Concerto of Love" resounded in 221B Baker Street, and soon dissipated, floating on the dark street, the moon hanging in the sky seemed to become extremely soft without the slightest coldness of the cold night amidst the sound of the violin , some are just soothing gentleness.

Sherlock closed his eyes, slowly raised the corners of his mouth, quietly feeling the happiness in the tune, and soon a smile was fixed on his face, a smile of yearning and happiness.

The sound of the violin continued, and the evening wind blew the scores on the shelf. Unknowingly, all the scores had been replaced by Bach's, and Sherlock hadn't played his own piece for a long time... But the happy smile continued.

The author has something to say: Juan Fu, the comb is on your shoulders, I must reclassify and download your hard drive...

Hmph, you'll be the one to cry then! ! !