Killing Mary Sue [Comprehensive Anglo-American]

London, deep winter night.

The shops closed early, and only the street lamps stood alone in the deserted streets, casting long and silent shadows on every pedestrian.

There was a steady and rhythmic sound of footsteps from far to near, and the backlight stretched the figure of the person extremely long.She wore a black wool coat that reached to her ankles and was cinched at the waist. She looked energetic and sharp, and her leather high boots stepped on the concrete with a loud sound.Her curly black hair was buried under a plaid scarf, and she was wearing a dark red beret, revealing only a pair of silver-gray eyes.She didn't carry a bag across the body like ordinary ladies. She put her right hand in her coat pocket, and her left hand was carrying a violin case that was half the height of a person. The black velvet was wrapped all over her body, which was simple and elegant.Other than that, no frills.

Carrying a heavy violin case, it seemed to have no effect on her, but her pace was still unhurried, like a stroll in a courtyard.She walked through one streetlight after another, and finally came to an apartment building that looked the same as the surrounding ones. Looking up, there was a line of words written on the sign on the door, "221B Baker Street".Next door is the closed "Speedy's" coffee shop.

Her gaze gradually moved upwards, and through the closed windows on the second floor, through the hazy curtains, she could faintly see dim lights and flashing figures.She exhaled lightly, raised the brim of her hat, stepped forward and knocked on the door, then stepped back slightly, waiting quietly.

She could hear the slight creaking of her feet on the old floor, slow and messy, belonging to people with low mobility and threat levels.Ten seconds later, the door slowly opened, and a kind and harmless face protruded from behind. His facial features could vaguely reveal the exquisiteness of his youth. He was wearing a homely sweater and long skirt with a small gap, and looked suspiciously at this late night. uninvited guest.

"Hmmmmmm, I think my tenants and I already have better insurance and don't need any more door-to-door sales - oh of course if you're renting, it's a pity you're late , the rooms are all rented out, and I don't think anyone will be interested in that little warehouse in the corner..."

The woman in black smiled and said politely, "Night, ma'am. I'm Jane Doe, and I'm here to find Sherlock Holmes. There is a case here, maybe he will be interested."

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Hudson immediately turned her head and shouted angrily upstairs, "Sherlock—you have guests—clean up your tornado-like house. I am your landlord, am I not Your butler—”

Then she opened the door, showed a kind smile, and led Jane up the stairs slowly, while asking, "Oh, we rarely have a young and beautiful girl like you here alone. I remember the last one was A rich man's wife, trying to find out how many lovers her flamboyant husband has hidden in London, and how much he spent on them... God knows Sherlock hates cases like this, second only to those children who send him home The lost cat—"

Jane followed quietly, and when she heard this sentence, she couldn't help lowering her eyes, her voice was calm and waveless.

"I have heard the reputation of the consulting detective. You need not worry, ma'am."

Mrs. Hudson turned her head suspiciously, "Fame?—You mean Sherlock? He still has a reputation?"

"Oh yes, ma'am." Jane smiled. "In our place, he is really... well-known."

Mrs. Hudson pushed open the door, put her head in for a look, relieved herself, and said to Jane, "I'm sorry that the room may be a little messy, you know, single men's apartments have always been unbearable...Of course I Guaranteeing that you won't find stinky socks that haven't been washed for half a year in the crevice of the sofa, that's the only satisfying quality about Sherlock."

After finishing speaking, Mrs. Hudson was about to go downstairs. The moment she lifted her foot, she suddenly remembered something, and said very kindly, "Oh yes, please don't open the refrigerator, my dear—if you need tea, I will It's downstairs."

"Thank you, ma'am." Jane nodded, and then stepped into the room.

Jane looked around, and there was a mess of sticky notes on the old-fashioned wooden table, and a Swiss knife stuck straight into a piece of mail.A pair of Persian slippers filled with tobacco leaves is placed on the cabinet at the door, and VR made out of rows of bullets is displayed on the wall covered with exquisite wallpaper.The statue placed in the bookcase for listening, the dusty violin next to the sofa, the antlers on the left wall, the mysterious skeleton portrait, the deerstalker hat at the door... The moment you enter the door, you feel like you have come to a celebrity museum in the 90s, crowded , Messy, full of British retro atmosphere.

Only one light was on, and the room was extremely quiet, so quiet that she almost thought it was empty.

If Jane hadn't seen the discordant curl above the chair with her back facing her.

However, Jane didn't bother to disturb the great detective who was wandering in the thinking palace. She stepped on the handmade Persian carpet without making any sound. Put it on your knees, keep your back straight, and your posture polite and well-behaved.

She waited for 42 minutes, the hour hand slowly passed directly above, and the chair made a sound—a person suddenly jumped from above, clenched his fists, and every cell let out a hoarse excited cry, The light from his eyes almost illuminated the darkness, "—three wine glasses and a broken hemp rope! That's right! This is——"

He murmured these inexplicable words to himself, straightened his hair quickly, picked up his windbreaker and was about to go outside, and didn't even notice that he was still wearing indoor slippers.And just when he stepped out of the door and was about to close the door, he finally remembered that there seemed to be someone sitting in the living room, so he quickly backed away, looked at her sharply for a few seconds, and picked her without interest. Raising his eyebrows, he said in a plain tone that has seen through the world and is full of simplicity to boredom:

"Another loyal lackey... You should try to contact your liaison officer, Miss Doe, I never get involved in ZF cases - because in the end, we will find that the results and causes of those cases are the same. Boring , no challenge."

It is nothing more than unspeakable national interests, politicians' struggles, pawns, cannon fodder, sacrifices, replacements, etc.To be honest, any relationship with Mike would make him feel that it was a problem, even if he could easily find the answer.

Although Jane has heard a lot about the reasoning and analysis ability of the consulting detective in front of her, she is still very curious, how did he deduce her identity from those details?Also, he actually knew her name?

"I have heard you for a long time, Mr. Holmes." Jane sat upright on the sofa and glanced at the open door. "You seem to be busy with other things. Maybe it's too late to go now—I can wait for you here."

Sherlock seemed very moved by this proposal, but he thought about it again, pointed to the half-person-high violin case next to Jane, and asked her in a flat tone, "After I go out, will you use it?" Is this M200 in the case shooting me?"

Seeing that he was asking herself very seriously, Jane couldn't help laughing, took the violin case, and opened it in front of his face, revealing the real material underneath.

Sherlock looked up, and after just one glance, his eyes stopped and couldn't move away.

An exquisite and ancient asymmetrical violin, after years, still flows with a warm and moist brilliance that does not fade.This is the asymmetric violin Résurgence from the famous Belgian violin maker Gauthier Louppe, which means "rebirth".The unique design of left and right inconsistency can adapt to the different requirements of treble and bass vibrations on the piano body during performance.This kind of attempt abandons the shackles of some traditional crafts, and breaks through the old and conservative art culture through exploration, so that music can last forever.

Just like Sherlock Holmes.

"In Mr. Watson's blog, it seems that you have a special liking for the violin. He will talk about the serenade you composed after the party and praise it." Jane cautiously under Sherlock's eyes He took out the rather old violin and said slowly, "Although more often he described the sound as 'stinging and tearing the eardrum, like a bunch of mad bees trying to get into your ears'—"

blog.How could there be such a nasty thing in the world?Except for exposure-privacy, distortion of facts, fantasy and fabrication, there is no real effect-even attracting goldfish whose brains are full of Thames water to knock on his door!

"My hands can't hold such a precious collection," Jane's fingers slowly rubbed on the smooth wood, every inch of movement made Sherlock tremble with fear, "so, I think it should stay in a place that knows how to appreciate itself better." In the hands of people—by the way, it can also be a valuable meeting gift."

"You want to buy me?" Sherlock suspected that he had heard wrong.

"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I am trying to bribe you," said Jane, "but not with this violin, but with . . . a case that would interest you."

She raised her eyes and smiled, "Now, can we sit down and have a good talk?"

……

Two minutes later, Sherlock, who sent the clue to Lestrade, sat cross-legged across from Jane in his battle robe and pajamas, with his index fingers facing each other and a calm expression on his face.

"The walking posture, the voice, the position of the hands, it's obviously a soldier," he told Jane the answer she wanted in an unremarkable tone and at a speed that was as fast as an eight-level listening comprehension. Marks, proving that you have been exposed to strong ultraviolet rays for a long time, even after five months? - No, six months can still be seen, no doubt in the tropics. New hair - I noticed, used to stay People with long hair don't tuck them all in scarves like you do, as they're annoying and don't get cold. You grew your hair back in the UK, and what would a healthy woman in her 20s do in the tropics, Cut long hair when the ultraviolet rays are strong and cause sunburn? - I can't think of any better reason than being forced to stay in a remote, hot, humid, high-temperature, insect-rich area. And all military officers on this earth There are only a few places that everyone wants to go, excluding those who do not meet the requirements, there is only one—”

"Veneria. Hunter school."

Jane raised her eyebrows.

"Your eyes," Sherlock pointed to his own, "stay in one place for too long, it's more like staring than looking. This is a subconscious development of snipers when they focus on a target for a long time. Little habits. And they notice the most dangerous, most threatening things first when they enter a new situation—”

Jane followed his gaze and looked over.A knife for opening envelopes.Bullet holes in the wall.Sharp antlers.Maybe the drawer where the gun was hidden.Mobile phone on the table.And Sherlock Holmes.

"So, how should the lackey explain it?" Jane was very interested. "I learned my pronunciation from my Peruvian comrades in arms. Even the locals can't find out that I am from the UK."

Sherlock's eyes slowly moved up.

Jane smiled when she saw it.

She wears a red beret, the only brighter color on her whole body.In the earliest days, the beret was invented by shepherds. Wearing it on the head can protect against wind and rain, taking it off can wipe sweat, and putting it on the ground can be used as a cushion.Later, it gradually became a symbol of officers and soldiers fighting until now.The officers and soldiers of the Fifth Air Mobility Brigade of the Royal Army all wear a red beret. The main task is to "quickly carry out various emergency combat tasks overseas."Its vanguard is its Parachute Regiment, the most elite unit of the British Army and one of the most professionally qualified units in the world.It has a very deterrent title: "Red Devil" troops.

Soldiers will more or less have uniform plots, and she is no exception.Even after returning to the country, the unreal feeling of stepping on the hard concrete floor will still make it difficult for people to fall asleep at night, and they are eager to hug something familiar for comfort.Some would keep the old bullets, others would take away a beret that the instructor had put on her.

In fact, this hat is not only the only color on her body, but also a new and expensive coat, boots, and scarf that are out of place.Although a bit of damage on it had been repaired well, Sherlock Holmes could still tell at a glance that it was different from Jane.

"ZF running dog" - the highest praise for Jane from Mr. Detective.Yes, he does not deny, subjective and capricious conclusions.

"You're all right, except for one thing..." Jane turned her head, glanced at the violin case beside her, and smiled, "Every smart person is a treasure in the world, and I have no intention of destroying the world's wealth."

So, he's safe.temporary.

Sherlock didn't care, he yawned.

"Not everyone," he languidly emphasized, "in fact, like me, unique."

indeed.Jane nodded approvingly: Sherlock has a bloody physique that can cause accidents wherever he goes. Except for the "protagonist", she has only found one similar one in the island country for thousands of years——

"One last question, Mr. Holmes." Jane leaned over and stared at Sherlock's unique golden, green, and blue eyes, her tone full of genuine curiosity, "How did you deduce me?" What about the name?"

Sherlock glanced at her, and said in a calm tone that sounded calm, but concealed a bit of complacency and taking it for granted——

"I'm not a Neanderthal, Miss Doe," he said. "I watch TV, and I use Google."

As long as it is related to "murder" or "tragedy", Sherlock Holmes's face recognition ability will rise rapidly. He can recognize you even if you are dressed up as a crooked old woman in ragged clothes, let alone in a street. Next to those two attractive words, there were two full-face photos exposed by the female reporter, and he couldn't ignore the past if he wanted to.

"If you're here to beg me to reverse the case for your brother—" Sherlock sat cross-legged on the single chair with a flat expression, "I refuse."

As expected.Jane smiled, "You are only half right, Mr. Holmes—in fact, the main purpose of my coming here is for you."

【Have you started the art of speaking (hu) and speaking (you)~】

Sherlock glanced over suspiciously, "Me?"

"I believe we have a common enemy," Jane straightened her back with a smile on her face, "and she has an ultimate skill that neither you nor I can match—"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.It's not that he praised him. I'm afraid I can count on one hand the number of people in the whole of Britain who are able to surpass him intellectually and surpass this woman opposite him in force.

He turned his head away with disdain, and then heard Jane Doy speak slowly.

"—Smart strike."

The author has something to say: The real name is the elementary school student next door to Aite, Conan the God of Death.