Boyfriend Development Program

On the night of the first ten days of December, John really experienced the coming of severe winter on this day.

The icy air enters the lungs from the nasal cavity, and the whole body is cold in just a second. When it turns around, the white breath is clearly visible.

The footsteps of "slapping" gradually shifted from one end of the alley to the other, and his eyes closely followed the strong man in front of him, just like countless nights and days, he followed like this The curly-haired man roams the streets, tracking every serial killer.The coldness stimulated the adrenaline of the little man, and the excitement and agitation in his whole body was in vain in the hopeless coldness, and it spread in an unstoppable direction. —No doubt, he was very excited, almost trembling with excitement.

... This hopeless excitement made John unable to see any exit with even the slightest hope.

They found Colonel Jack at the entrance of the alley behind him. Beside him was a subdued man and a woman holding her arms: the man had short black messy hair, a firm and straight nose, and dark and dark eyes. and a deadpan face.He was still holding a bloody knife in his hand. The amount of blood was not much, more like an attempted murder.As for the woman, she was leaning against the wall tightly, with blood slipping from between her fingers on her right hand, which was tightly clutching her arm. The wound was not deep—it could be seen from the speed of the blood flow.Her chest rose and fell uncontrollably, a typical performance after being frightened.

The situation seems to be clear at a glance.

Sherlock looked at the woman leaning against the wall, and recognized at a glance that she was the prostitute named Mary Jane Kelly: "It seems that everything is perfectly settled."

Jack had already spotted John's slightly red and swollen lower lip with keen eyes. As a veteran of the flowers, he naturally understood what the two "talked" just now, and the ambiguity hung on his face, so he almost said: "Tsk , it seems that you and Dr. Watson have talked about life for a long time."

The cadence is up and down, and the word is three words. Sherlock snorted coldly, and said expressionlessly: "Mind yourself!"

"Hey, everyone understands." The smile on Jack's face was even more unbearable. Seeing that he couldn't get anything out of Sherlock, he turned to John who was standing aside mysteriously, deliberately "lowering" (although it was lowering, John dares to swear by Sherlock's name: his good roommate can absolutely hear Jack's words verbatim!) voice, "John, how about Sherlock's technology?"

——What technology?

——Of course the technique of kissing!

John: "..."

With an unnatural cough, the little man selectively ignored the question.He glanced at the woman biting his lower lip: "She's injured." Then he took out his mobile phone and was about to call an ambulance, but Sherlock stopped him from pressing the button: "Jack has already called. Of course, there is also Scotland Field." He stood up, and his brown leather jacket slid out a drifting arc in the darkness: "Maybe there is also the Torchwood team."

"All hits!" Jack stood on the spot and replied with a smile.

John pursed his lips and put the phone back in embarrassment.

Sherlock walked up to the man—"Jack the Ripper" to be precise—and looked at him for about a minute (the abnormal length of time surprised John), his pale, expressionless face gradually There have been changes.He stared at the man condescendingly: "You didn't kill Elizabeth Stride."

"Elizabeth stride?" The man looked up at the detective with a sneer on his face, "I never admitted that I killed her."

"It's not you. Of course." Hearing this, the curly-haired man quickly and eagerly affirmed the other party's statement, the excitement caused Sherlock's high cheekbones to flush sickly, and he danced like a child who got a new toy, " You didn't disembowel her... a sacrificial process! Your pride, including your obsessive-compulsive disorder, will never allow you not to complete a set of sacrifices! There is no doubt that you are another imitator! Perfect!"

"...Another impersonator?" John's voice was full of surprise, "You mean, the same impersonator?"

Jack also suppressed his smile, waiting for Sherlock's explanation.

In the distance, sirens and ambulances roared, cutting through the cold night.

Sherlock squinted his eyes, watching the flashing police lights approaching, expressionless but firmly concluded: "There is a connection. But it's not the same. Obviously."

"Obviously?" Jack asked subconsciously.

"The first imitator is a high-powered anti-social, his purpose is to humiliate, the target of the crime, the modus operandi... Even the motive of the crime is exactly the same. - These, Will has already analyzed." Sherlock straightened up, with a cold expression After watching the prostitutes being put into the ambulance, he moved his eyes to the group of Lestrade who were walking towards him quickly, and he continued to talk, "This time the imitator completely lost his sense, more like Imitation for the sake of imitation. The most obvious manifestation is the abandonment of the methods used by the imitator. A novice? Too hasty to put the cart before the horse? Very likely."

"...It's unbelievable." John exclaimed with surprise on his face, just like when he first met, he heard the interpretation of himself from his good roommate, the kind of surprise and wonder that was almost exactly the same. Sherlock glanced at John, pursed his lips slightly, looked haughty, and said nothing.The little man quickly grasped the important point in the detective's mouth and swallowed hesitantly, "Then 'connected' means?"

Sherlock glanced at John: "Master-student relationship."

After a while, a black extended car slammed on the brakes and stopped a few meters away.Immediately, two men and two women got out of the car and went straight to Jack's location.

——torchwood.

"Sherlock, what do you mean: the second imitator learns from the first imitator? And Elizabeth Stride is his first test subject?" Jack took the box from a man in black leather with a crew cut, Look serious.The man seemed to be used to Jack ignoring him as always, looked at Jack, twitched the corner of his lips, and quietly retreated to stand beside the man.

Sherlock gave the crew-haired man a meaningful look, and corrected him: "To be precise, the first imitator taught the second imitator how to kill."

The rest of Torchwood, a man and two women, got busy around Jack the Ripper: carefully inspecting the man's clothes, collecting DNA and skin scraps, and using strange-looking instruments...

Lestrade stared at the instrument in the hands of one of the brown-red long-haired women with a cold green light for a while, then shifted his hopeful gaze to Sherlock: "Is there anyone?"

"I am tired of human flesh, and it is very likely that I have been forced to have bad memories. Familiar slaughter methods indicate that they are proficient in hunting and killing. They have been doing this behavior for a long time. Hunters or surgeons. Those who imitate the case are unskilled and only think about it afterwards. Using letters to cover up traces is obviously the first time to handle a case independently. Coupled with the mood of anticipation and fear, calmness and panic... a contradiction, the spirit has been strongly impacted recently." Sherlock twitched the corners of his lips, his pale face Squeezing out a strange smile, "Ha! It's not 'he', it's 'she'! There is no doubt about it!" He looked at John, his gray-green eyes sparkling, "John, did you think of anything?"

...JESUS ​​ABOVE!

John looked shocked, his wriggling lips pieced together a fragmented name: abigailhobbs.

The author has something to say: starting from chapter V, those who have read it do not need to read it.

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