Just say you lack output [Comprehensive Yingmei]

London, England.

The horizon swallowed the last ray of light without a trace, and a fluorescing blue swirl-shaped time-space door suddenly opened in the midair, and the light blue light spread, as if an evil dragon hiding in the darkness opened an eye, A few butterflies with gorgeous scales flapped their wings and rushed out of the vortex, and then slowly floated out a faint blue lantern with candle flames.

The vortex-shaped time-space gate quickly closed, and then dissipated in the air without a sound. The glamorous beauty sitting sideways on the blue lantern looked around thoughtfully, and a faintly imperceptible look of confusion flashed in her pale blue pupils. , until a translucent blue butterfly flew down with a stream of light, she woke up suddenly, and murmured as if unconsciously: "Where is this place, and who am I? This is, the lamp? I seem to remember it, I am... Qing Xingdeng who is keen on ghost stories."

Qing Xingdeng stretched out a soft and white arm, and the quiet candlelight hit her beautiful side face. A few shimmering butterflies seemed to be attracted by the beauty of the demon ghost, and they flew and landed on her cold fingers. At this moment, a large amount of information came into her mind accompanied by sharp pain, and all the confusion was dissipated under the interference of a mysterious force, so that her consciousness could be restored to clarity.

"...Could it be instinct? After all, they are monsters who have been searching for and recording ghost stories since their birth. Maybe they have some special abilities, such as automatically confirming the target of ghost stories."

Qing Xingdeng gave up thinking about the source of these materials, crossed her legs gracefully, glanced at the Baker Street apartment not far away with a smile, and said to herself: "Sherlock Holmes, a man who can always find interesting cases My intuition tells me that following him will definitely hear more ghost stories, so as a reward, when the hundredth ghost story is recorded in the ghost story, his old enemy Moriarty will be led by a paper lantern Go to hell and wait for Yan Mo's judgment."

She raised her hand lightly, and the monster butterfly that had landed on her fingertips suddenly fluttered up, drawing a cyan streamer with a flickering posture, as if leading the way, it flew to Apartment 221B Baker Street. After Watson moved to share with his wife Mary Morstan, Sherlock, who "resurrected from the dead", simply rented this apartment by himself, and "come back occasionally for a few days to confirm that Sherlock is not Raise himself to death" Watson stayed in the room.

The glamorous ghost easily invaded the apartment, casually floated in the air on a green light, looked through the traces left by human life in the bedroom and living room, and waited for the return of the target Sherlock.

Qing Xingdeng is a monster transformed by human beings. She is not ignorant of the rules and common sense of human society, but the moment she was transformed into a ghost, her cognition and nature have changed. The goal of the mission can be unscrupulous, and the so-called moral principles of human beings are basically equivalent to empty words for her.

The apartment was very clean, maybe Watson had just cleaned it not long ago, it was so clean that it was almost spotless, but it couldn't be called tidy. From the sofa in the living room to the floor of the bedroom, a few silk pajamas and shirts were randomly thrown along the way, and there was a A large bath towel was piled up at the door of the bathroom... There were actually four coats of the same style hanging on the hanger!

Qing Xingdeng raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, and tapped his slender fingertips on his lips: "...Miss Tianluo, I like this story."

She opens the refrigerator.

A piece of bloody human viscera was placed neatly on the plate.

"..."

·

London time, 08:30 clock.

"Yes, Mary and I are very worried about you. She thinks that if I come back one day later, you will boil and swallow the evidence in the refrigerator."

Watson was carrying two bags of vegetables and one fish. He opened the door of the apartment with a helpless expression on his face. He took Sherlock's coat and scarf very naturally, patted off the snow before hanging them on the hanger, and then he looked up at the living room , a little surprised: "I underestimated the degree of your cleanliness. Although you don't look like a cleanliness at all, you actually hired a housekeeper? Or is it that Mr. Mycroft Holmes came? After all, he looks It's like being good at cleaning a room."

"'Looks like a good housecleaner' sounds like a compliment, and I'll remember to pass it on to Mycroft."

Sherlock stopped Watson who was about to go to the kitchen to prepare dinner with vegetables. He unconsciously exerted a little more effort, his expression looked quite vigilant, and his extremely light-colored pupils were like inorganic glass under the light, looking cold Almost indifferent: "Someone came into the apartment and touched my bedroom, living room, and personal items."

Watson noticed that the great detective unconsciously tensed his muscles and breathed lightly. He carefully checked the window and door of the living room, opened the refrigerator to check whether the evidence was intact, and then rarely showed his handsome face. With a confused look on his face, he frowned and said, "There is no trace left. Fingerprints, footprints, and even smells, all details have been erased. I can speculate on its activities in the room, but Can't find its purpose."

Then he took out the gun and walked quickly to the bedroom.

Watson immediately followed behind him, clenched his fists and was always ready for the hero to save the beauty, for fear that this big detective who was obsessed with reasoning would bump into the gangster who hadn't left and play himself into it, and then he quickly added: "To be honest, I can also speculate that, after all, there are only a few processes for cleaning the room, but the washing machine is actually working? Does anyone else do your laundry for you except me and the dry cleaner downstairs?"

"Mycroft? After all, he looks like he is good at cleaning the room. Cleaning clothes seems to be part of cleaning the room."

Sherlock stopped and stood at the door of the bedroom, and then he and Watson looked at each other. The latter reached out to hold the doorknob with a solemn expression to open the door, while Sherlock slowly raised his hand to the faint blue light shining through the crack of the door. Pistol/Gun, said word by word: "I don't remember when I changed the bedside lamp in my bedroom to such a terrible color."

Sherlock, who didn't know that he had already set the true fragrance warning flag, frowned and commented: "It looks like a KTV."

Watson: ...There is a little bit, but there is a problem. To be honest, Sherlock, who is good at fighting skills, is holding a gun, and he is holding a stool leg with a precise gun. There is always something wrong with this configuration.

Sherlock said simply, "Open the door."

Watson breathed lightly, and opened the door violently!

In the bright light of the room, there is a green lamp with a strange flame floating in the air. On the lamp sits a precious oriental beauty. Every item under the intervention is quite elegant, but such a beauty appears here, and people still can't help but feel the beauty of the humble room.

Highlights: Floating in mid-air.

Watson: "..."

Watson: "..."

Watson: "..."

"Snapped."

He closed the door back again.

The retired military doctor, with a collapsed world view, silently knocked his head on the door frame. He maintained this posture of refusing to communicate. After three seconds, he finally slowly put together his broken three views. The extremely difficult way : "Sherlock, there is a weird oriental girl in your bedroom, hanging in the air, and that lamp..."

Sherlock corrected his best friend who broke the concept of materialism for a second without changing his face: "It's not in the air, she's just sitting on the lamp."

Watson was almost driven mad by his focus: "I know! But the lights are suspended in mid-air, and there are glowing, translucent butterflies. I swear by my 5.2 vision without glasses, I didn't see them. Any mechanism, electronic projection can't reach such a realistic level, but God, why do you look so calm!"

Sherlock reached out to open the door. He looked calm and said calmly, "Because I don't want to be as shocked as a goldfish discovering the water world for the first time? Really, this is really stupid."

Watson: "...Well, goldfish can't cook, it seems that your dinner today is the evidence in the refrigerator, Sherlock."

Sherlock acted as if he hadn't heard of it, and he didn't take his friend's weak threat as a thing at all. His attention was completely focused on another place, because when the bedroom door was slowly pushed open again, he didn't pay attention to it for the first time. Some details came back to his eyes.

Watson was keenly aware of the changes in Sherlock immediately, his beautiful blue eyes lit up in an instant, like a cat stepping its paws on the snow for the first time, suddenly aroused by the unknown world interest, and decided to put all the effort into exploring it.

...All right, this is also one of his unique charms.

Watson turned his head to look at the source of his worldview collapse——

It's like a bedroom filled with quiet epiphyllum, and the glamorous beauty bathed in the pale blue candlelight is holding her slender fingertips with a smile on her eyes, casually teasing a few beautiful butterflies with scales and wings, her slender waist and long legs, Blooming epiphyllum is tied on the ankle, a large piece of skin is bare/naked, delicate and fragile like white porcelain, no matter the curve of the shoulders and collarbone or the undulating curvature of the chest are flawless.

Sherlock's expression is clear, there is almost no difference between looking at a beauty and looking at some strange object, he is not confused by the beauty at all, and he seems to have no intention of opening his mouth, while Watson, whose aesthetics is Mary and Sherlock, is polite Look away: "Ma'am, who are you and why are you breaking into someone else's apartment?"

Qing Xingdeng smiled slightly, looking at him as if looking at some cute little animal, with a gentle and friendly smile, she asked softly: "How is the world on the water, little goldfish?"

Watson: "..."

I shouldn't be here.