[Comprehensive] Sherlock Holmes

Cogito ergo sum.This is a philosophical question.

My existence is the only certain thing in this world, because once I doubt or deny my existence, it just proves that I exist.

Therefore, no matter where this world is positioned, how different it is from the world I originally belonged to—the only thing that can be proved is that I, as the only eye-catching positioning mark, really exists.

So?

Who is this real me, this me who is entangled with multiple memories?

This question makes no sense—in a sense, because so few people encounter such extreme situations—how can a person have more than one distinct but complete memory?If this question does not exist, there is no answer and explanation.

She is an exception, she is a minority.

Jian Ruo closed her eyes in pain, her teeth were chattering up and down - if you have ever tried this feeling, it was as if you had a sea in your head, and this sea was undergoing a tsunami.

——This time, it is different from the memory of 'Jian Ruo' that she denied could exist alone——

It exists coherently, so it is violent. Over the long years of two centuries, although a large part of the fragments have been lost, the waves wash away the sand, and what remains are some of the most important and unforgettable fragments for individual memory.

And those - memories about Jian Ruo.

She was sitting in the sunset, reciting some gibberish words, with the tip of her tongue up, uttering some vague syllables, drowsy, did she look at the man sitting by the window with his jaw propped up.

In a trance, she had clearly seen such scenes before her eyes.

The man's azure eyes were as deep as the sea—letting the setting sun paint a golden-red edge on his outline.

"If I should see you..."

Fragmented syllables are thus scattered in the rubbing of the evening.

Her head drooped limply——

He didn't die—how could he die? That was the last time the two of them saw each other. He was the same as when he first met her, smiling and unpredictable. Even the way he read poems was full of deep meaning as always. , every demeanor, every detail, even the sound of the tongue, the vague tremor in the air, seems to be hiding some conspiracy and calculation.

She still remembers—

if Should see you, after long year.

How should I greet, with tears, with silence.

After life and death, how can we meet again?

And if he hadn't died—

Everything Achilles did was just a puppet in his hands—because if he hadn’t died, the worshipers would never have chosen Achilles—

She stepped on the sailboat, fighting desperately against the frenzy of memory, trying to find out the truth of everything, but the deeper she went, the more she couldn't restrain her trembling.

"simple!"

She heard the sound and looked up, and Sherlock had appeared beside her, just like every time he did——Sherlock Holmes, she reluctantly smiled at him——

"What did he do to you? Backlash? Hint?—No, no, no——" He seemed to be trying to maintain his composure, but he was forcing himself into a state of thinking. This expression didn't suit him at all, Xia Locke Holmes should always be calm and stable, but this kind of Sherlock made her feel very—

Sherlock's hand reached out, trying to lift her up.But at the next moment, some exciting and fragrant images flashed in Jian Ruo's mind - just as Achilles said, even if the guys of the first two generations were obsessed with science and military affairs, they couldn't stop the latter two generations from catering to them. The unrestrained trend of the times shows the strength and beauty of Italian men——

She suddenly felt that being touched by a man was such a disgusting thing, especially when she still had an inexplicable and unspeakable affection for this man—at this moment, she couldn't tell her gender clearly, she was clearly a man, and How can I have an undue affection for a man?

Jian Ruo pushed Sherlock away violently, Sherlock was unprepared, and paused slightly, Jian Ruo fell on the ground and retched——

Sherlock's restless expression had completely froze. He stared at Jian Ruo, his expression changed from unbelievable to dignified.

——It's too easy to guess.

When you know the truth of everything, when you know what the person in front of you is going through.

Jian Ruo's face turned blue, her hands were tightly clasped together, struggling and trembling——

Gender recognition barriers - very good, when the first step of integration, such a dilemma appeared.

That's why Antonio didn't directly instill memories in her like he did with those test subjects in the past—ha, no wonder no one in the Godslayer could find her—who would have thought that one day, a god who holds his own identity would choose What about a woman who will become weak every month, get married, get pregnant and even give birth to a child as the heir—?

Only that lunatic Antonio could do it.

Perhaps to him, she was not an heir at all—everyone was just his shield, and Jian Ruo was just the most special shield among them.

--Antonio! !

Her long hair hung down in that bent posture, covering her somewhat ferocious face.

Jian Ruo endured a wave of severe pain abruptly with a kind of comprehension-like anger—successfully triggered the body's self-protection mechanism, and passed out.

……

Jian Ruo woke up to the sound of the violin like a saw.

Her vision was blurred, her eyes were out of focus, and the sound of sawing saws continued to sting her eardrums. The cycle seemed endless, and the trance was clearly hell.

She moved her fingers and covered her ears instinctively.

Maybe it was too much movement—the sound of sawing finally stopped, and Sherlock, who was standing by the window, turned his head and stared at Jane Ruo who was curled up on the sofa: "Oh—thank God, you finally woke up, if you don't Wake up, something bad is about to happen, Jane."

Jian Ruo let go of her hands covering her ears: "What's wrong?"

"You and me, the two of us—" Sherlock said slowly, "we're going to miss dinner."

"..." Jian Ruo's eyes were complicated for a moment, "Do you have to wait until I wake up to eat?"—I didn't expect Sherlock to value her so much.

"Oh—of course." Sherlock cast a glance at Jian Ruo inexplicably, "If you don't wake up and cook, how can we have dinner—"

……Ha ha.

What is the condition of this urge to beat someone—is it a sequela of regaining memory?

Jian Ruopi smiled but didn't smile, propping the sofa with one hand, and slowly sat up.

Drowsy, the blanket slid down and landed on the bend of her arm, she lifted it up, leaned over and buried her face in the blanket, sighing softly.

"Didn't you send me to the hospital?" Her voice was a little dull, "I'm a patient."

"Patient? Crazy?" Sherlock replied nonchalantly, then turned around and played the violin again.

The twilight was deep, and the light made Sherlock's silhouette picturesque, outlining his back, indescribably handsome - if he could ignore his re-started, seesaw-like voice.

Jian Ruo's eyebrows twitched, a little irritated: "——I would rather I was a psycho, I said——how long have you been playing the violin? Has no one complained?"

"First of all, if you are mentally ill, there is no way for the hospital to meet your needs." Sherlock didn't care, and continued his unspeakable music journey with a face of enjoyment, "Secondly, if you say crazy Banging on doors and yelling at windows counts as complaints—" He paused, "and some idiots did that."

"My God." Jian Ruo swallowed. "I can already imagine what an extra expense we're going to have—what did you do to our poor neighbors? I mean, did you explain it to them?"

"...Hmm." Sherlock thought for a second, "I didn't open the door, you know, I was thinking."

"...Honey, you always make me think that you have enough money to pay for your waywardness." Jian Ruo twitched her lips, "However, I have to tell you that the paper you published before won The remuneration has almost bottomed out—"

"b~"

Jian Ruo twitched the corner of her mouth: "This is not a boring question - you know, we have to pay the rent... Wait, the landlady has passed away, who is our rent now? No, no, no - you Stop your moving music for a while, my head hurts from listening to—”

The words "really troublesome" were written in Sherlock's eyes, and he put down the violin: "Instead of thinking about these issues, I think you should do some practical things, Jane."

"Real things? Cooking?" Jian Ruo smiled, "I'm a patient, so I don't do it."

"You just recovered some memories. I don't think it's a disease."

"I need to sort out these memories." Jian Ruo clasped her hands together, with an inscrutable look, "I feel a little mentally abnormal, and I may suddenly violently kill people——I have to control myself."

"Come on. You always like to dramatize things—" Sherlock curled his lips in disgust, "If you don't do anything, we only have the option of starving."

"I like this option." Jian Ruo didn't hesitate, "——Proper restraint is conducive to long-term development."

She gave Sherlock a defiant smile.