[Comprehensive] Live broadcast of the crime scene

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

--Dickens

"Holy shit!"

In the evening of September, the sky was gloomy, the city was filled with thick fog, and layers of black clouds hung low in the air. The soot in the air was mixed with the acrid smell of sulfur, which made Mo Xian sneezed several times.

She is standing beside the Thames as black as ink at the moment, the Tower Bridge looms in the thick fog, the Gothic tower casts a thick shadow, the dim streetlights barely play their role, and there are carriages creaking and creaking from time to time Yawed by, splashing water and mud all the way.

This is London, and this is nineteenth-century Victorian times.

"It's such a bad weather," unconsciously speaking in the authentic English accent of rp, Mo Xian took off his sunglasses, and looked at a small spot of mud on his red Prada high-heeled shoes with disgust, "This is my birthday present from my sister!"

"Don't you think the raindrops falling on you are more worthy of your concern?" A weak electronic voice sounded in her head, "If you don't use an umbrella, your windbreaker will be lost."

Noticing the raindrops gliding over her windbreaker, Mo Xian exclaimed, cursed and opened the big black umbrella in her hand. After learning of the destination, Victoria’s London, she specially brought an umbrella here. Foresight.

"Why am I speaking English now?" Mo Xian noticed his language, "My English pronunciation is not that standard."

"One of the functions of the system," the electronic voice of the system sounded again, "will automatically convert the language into the native language, and your audience will hear their native language. Of course, they can also choose English. We provide Original voice."

"Since your company is so powerful, what kind of identity have you arranged for me?" Hanging the sunglasses on the collar of the windbreaker, Mo Xian grabbed the handle of the umbrella with one hand, covered his mouth and nose with a white handkerchief with the other, and stretched towards Tower Bridge. The long neck identified the direction, and protested in a rambling manner, "Don't tell me that you are going to let me rush directly into Baker Street, and say to the detective, Goodevening, Mr. Holmes," she said to the railing by the river pretentiously. Get on your knees, "Trust me or no, I'm from another world."

[What a clear picture!What is this place? ]

As soon as the voice fell, a bullet screen suddenly appeared on the real-time screen occupying the lower right corner of her line of sight. After realizing that someone was there, Mo Xian restrained herself a bit, put on a friendly (as she thought) smile, and moved towards the live ball—an invisible The live broadcast equipment, but she can feel the location - waved enthusiastically, "Hi, welcome to watch my live broadcast, I am Mo Xian, now I am in London in the nineteenth century, next, I will visit A Mr. Detective named Sherlock Holmes."

[Are you joking? ] The first reaction of the barrage is disbelief, [Visiting Sherlock? Holmes?please!Do you really think he is real? ] Wow, Mo Xian raised her exquisite eyebrows. It seems that this Mr. Sherlock Holmes is quite famous, otherwise, even a random audience member who came in would know of his existence. The system did not lie to her.

She has obtained this so-called live broadcast system for more than ten years. No, to be correct, the live broadcast system has been with her since she was born. She claimed to be the latest product of a certain company and tried her best to persuade her to open the live broadcast room and marry Gao Fushuai. It is not a problem to reach the pinnacle of life.

Of course, the problem is that she has been at the pinnacle of her life since she was born, and she has no intention of exposing her private life to the eyes of others.It's just that the weather is unpredictable, she is still (voluntarily) boarding the pirate ship, thinking about it is really sad.

The spectator who thought she was being funny left, and the number on the screen in the lower right corner changed to 0 again, and the electronic voice had to remind her, "You can open the gift pack for newcomers when you reach ten spectators. You'd better get it before you go to meet the detective." To the newcomer gift bag."

"Got it, got it," she responded impatiently, fumbled a few times in the small satchel with the hand holding the handkerchief, was choked by the spicy smog, and persistently took out YSL lipstick and a small mirror, With an umbrella between his shoulders and both hands free, he carefully touched up his makeup, "With my beauty, can't I still attract ten audiences?"

Indeed, her self-confidence is justified. Mo Xian's beauty is flamboyant and aggressive, especially when she raises her eyebrows and stares, she is extraordinarily lively and lively. Seeing her, these words will come to mind in everyone's mind: Hu Mei , glamorous, restless in the room, the female supporting role who likes to find fault in TV dramas, the king's mistress, etc.When she painted mature makeup and retro red lips, not many people would recognize her as a female student in high school.

"OK," she put the makeup tools in her bag, covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief, and was careful not to get the newly applied lipstick, grabbed the big black umbrella, and stepped into the red high-heeled shoes in the ticking rain, "Let's go Meet that Mr. Holmes!"

According to the map conveyed by the system, she walked along the river bank for a few minutes, and the number of online users in the live broadcast room changed from 0 to 2, and a barrage appeared impatiently in her field of vision, [This is the broadcaster, saying that she is going to see Sherlock Holmes! ] It turned out that the audience who had just left found a little partner.

[Hahaha, have you watched too many time-travel dramas?]

[Great picture quality!Like 3D! ]

[Is the anchor in the imperial capital?Why is the smog so severe? ]

[I saw the title coming in, did the anchor meet Juan Fu? ]

If there is one, there are two. When Mo Xian had an idea and changed the name of the live broadcast room to #见奇纳?圣比斯#, the number of people entering the live broadcast room skyrocketed, and soon exceeded ten. In the full view of the special effects of fireworks, A big red gift bag bounced twice, and poured out golden fragments and a large stack of gold and silver coins. The fragments were marked with "observation". When she focused on the fragments, she quickly got "observation" Information: You seem to be looking at the world through a magnifying glass (this world only).

Following the system's suggestion, she immediately used the fragment.

A coolness flowed into her eyes, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the whole world was different, like... like the difference between high-definition and ultra-high-definition, although she still couldn't see too far— ——I guess it can only be done at the level of a telescope—but if the distance is close, it can be said that it can be said to be fine, and even count the number of lines on her handkerchief. Of course, she will not be bored enough to really count.

With money, she can finally walk in the rain without wearing high heels, and stop a passing carriage. Under the suspicious eyes of the coachman - in the Victorian era, a young woman could not go out without an escort, maybe he mistook herself A prostitute, but what does it matter? ——Given the address of "221 Baker Street", she bent down and got into the dark carriage under the yellow light of the chandeliers on both sides of the carriage and sat down. Wrapping it into the satchel, I happened to see a—yes—a large bullet screen, as if everyone was surprised by this address.

[221 Baker Street?Am I right? ]

[Isn't that in London?Is there still so much smog in London?Doesn't it mean that there has been no smog for a long time after the treatment? ] [I want to go to Baker Street, I want to see Sherlock Holmes' home ~ I will watch the broadcaster tonight! ][etc!I'm in London now, but it's daytime! ][Thinking carefully and fearing Σ(゜゜)]

[Thinking about fear Σ(゜゜)＋1]

I don’t know if it’s because the online viewers are forming gangs and calling for friends. Within a few minutes, the number of online users has risen from 15 to 33, and they are still increasing one by one. During the time when Mo Xian accepted his identity and background, old and new viewers I am excitedly introducing this live broadcast room in the bullet screen. Although the real-time live broadcast screen in the lower left corner is still dark, and the light from the two small windows did not save the darkness on the live broadcast screen, no audience left because of this.Obviously, everyone raised curiosity.

It seems that they all know the so-called great detective Sherlock Holmes, and the importance of this great detective in Mo Xian's heart has gradually increased a few steps.

The system said that it could not disclose the live broadcast and its own world to the detectives. Although it half-believed that it might be able to see it with the sensitivity of Mr. Holmes, Mo Xian absolutely couldn’t tell the truth, otherwise the system would bring her back to him. In this world, although she used to disdain the system, but now that she has something to ask for, she can't violate its rules.So in this line of work, Mo Xian is here to learn and earn points. According to the system, the number of viewers and points brought by tipping can allow her to buy useful fragments like "observation" that can be brought to the real world. If Buy a "deduction" shard (if there is one), and maybe she can clear herself of the murder charge.

Thinking of this, she cheered up and thought about her identity in this world: Mr. Detective's landlord Mrs. Hudson's good friend's daughter, her mother married a Chinese, and this time she came to England with her mother's ashes (Provided by the system) Go back to her hometown for burial, and ask the landlady to temporarily rent a house on Baker Street so that she can take care of her, and leave after finishing her work. This identity has arranged a flawless reason for her disappearance.

The carriage stopped slowly, "221 Baker Street is here, ma'am, two shillings and sixpence."

"Thank you," Mo Xian dug out the coins from the novice gift pack from his wallet, counted out two shillings and sixpence in the light of the window, held it in his hand, took a deep breath, and was choked by the smog again, "Cough cough."

But this episode did not affect the barrage who were also looking forward to it.

[I'm a little excited, I don't know if it's really 221 Baker Street. ] [I am in the UK, and I testify that I have never seen the coins in the hands of the broadcaster, and it is definitely not used now! ] [The smog just now is not fake, the carriage is not fake, and the house is not like the current one.Could it be that the podcaster has really time-traveled? ] [Maybe it's a studio somewhere, smog can also be man-made. ] [Dubiously believe, move a small bench and wait. ]

Seeing so many people looking forward to it, Mo Xian actually calmed down. She pulled out a new handkerchief to cover her mouth and nose, and with an umbrella in one hand, she got out of the carriage neatly.

The two-wheeled carriage was parked in a small four-story building. In the gloomy smog and light rain, the 221B printed on the semicircular window above the door stood out against the warm orange light in the room.