[Comprehensive] The Wizard and the Fugitive

In Jim Moriarty's memory, human beings have always been boring. They tirelessly reproduce the inferior gene called stupidity, repeating the ordinary that the previous generation hated and lived in.Well-behaved, birth, old age, sickness and death, the exhaled air pollutes every corner of the world, spelling out an entire boring civilized society.

Watching them was like watching living despair.

However, whether Moriarty likes it or not, boredom is an inherent attribute of civilized people after all. They seem to have an inherent disappointment. Every time Moriarty wants to play some "small games" with them, he just Can reap disappointment.

It wasn't until Sherlock Holmes appeared that he finally found a satisfactory "playmate".

How rare is a man with brains!Delighted, Moriarty orchestrated a new game and tried to play a round with him, but was interrupted just as he started.

William Schiller, a Norwegian aristocrat who appeared out of nowhere attracted Sherlock's mind. This man, like other Schillers, abides by the old and outdated rules.gentleman.polite.tedious.He might be a little puzzling little secret, but Moriarty didn't care about that.

No one can get in the way of Moriarty's game.

……

220 Baker Street.

The youth in the cultural shirt didn't leave much impression on Draco's heart. As soon as he got home, he couldn't wait to take off his sweat-soaked clothes, threw them on the floor of the laundry room, and rushed into the bathroom.Hot water poured over his body, washing away the stickiness that lingered even with the cleaning spell, and finally made him feel alive again.

He stayed in the bathroom for a while, and when he came out, William had already prepared breakfast, and was sitting in the dining room leisurely flipping through the Daily Prophet.

"What's the news today?" Draco sat down and asked.

"You're not going to like it." William flipped through the last few pages of the entertainment page and handed the paper to Draco.

The two ate breakfast quietly, Draco consciously went to study, William slowly cleared the table, made fresh juice and sent it to the study.

He glanced at the two stacks of books on the desk, Draco's progress was fairly fast, and he could just start practice in a month.

The room was very quiet, and William didn't disturb Draco, standing relaxedly in front of the bookshelf, trying to find a novel to pass the time.

It was an ordinary morning, the clock in the living room was ticking, the sun shone through the thin clouds, and shone dimly on the unmade quilt in the bedroom.A sparrow landed on the window, half of its body leaned into the open window, and tilted its head to look at it.Looking out from the open door of the bedroom, it happened to be the quiet laundry room. Draco's sportswear in the morning was still thrown there, and there was a faint red flash in the pocket of the thin shorts, and the speed was getting faster and faster. faster.

beep.

A soft sound suddenly sounded in the silence, startling the sparrows in the window.In the study, William raised his head abruptly, and looked out the window as if feeling something...

boom!

The explosion happened in an instant, and Draco didn't even have time to get up, seeing the rapidly expanding flames rushing ferociously.The shock made him retreat reflexively, but one hand firmly pressed his shoulder and fixed him in the chair.

"Calm down." William's voice sounded above his head, and Draco was forced to sit motionless, with his eyes wide open, watching the flames flooding the sky and covering the sky, hitting the wall less than one meter away from him, and he could only turn into Two turbulent streams of fire bypassed from both sides.

"Oh Merlin! Merlin!" He relaxed all of a sudden, almost slumped in the chair, panting in shock.

"Are you okay?" William's voice was as casual as ever, and Draco looked up, surprised to find that William was holding a wand in his hand.

It was the first time William had drawn his wand since entering Baker Street, and Draco couldn't help but stare at it curiously.The wand was only anti-slip on the handle, and there were no other patterns, just like a real wooden stick, breaking all Draco's reverie.

His distraction was too obvious, and the disappointment in his eyes couldn't be hidden at all.William raised his eyebrows, let go of the hand on his shoulder, and waved his wand. The roaring fire immediately softened, surrounded them, and shrank back at a natural and slow speed.

Draco's attention was drawn away, watching the fire flow around them, leaving ripples in the transparent barrier, only to be quickly covered by the next ripple.He stood up and touched the isolation layer with his fingertips: "What is this?"

"Armor protection."

"Wow!" He exclaimed in a low voice, tentatively moving forward gently, with his whole hand covering it.William didn't stop.The film was not thick, but it was safe enough. Draco could feel the temperature of the fire, but he didn't feel any pain.

What kind of powerful magic power is needed to apply the armor body to the point of materialization?Draco couldn't think of an answer, no one knew the answer.Before that, everyone who had seen William's magic power died under the one-hit kill spell, and this was the first time he cast protective magic in front of people.

Baker Street was in total chaos. The heat wave from the explosion bounced all the cars parked on the side of the road, and collectively issued harsh protests.Pedestrians knelt down to cover their heads reflexively, and when they looked for the source of the sound, they saw thick smoke billowing from a few houses in the middle of Baker Street.

Several tenants came out of 221b one after another, and they were quickly helped by the neighbors to sit on the side of the road.

"Are they all out?"

"Sherlock's still in there!" cried a lad.

"Who are you talking about?"

The boy raised his voice. "Sherlock Holmes! He's still inside!"

At this time, Sherlock, who was worried by the neighbors, was getting up from the broken glass unsteadily. The explosion made him have to endure the annoying tinnitus. If he had a choice, he would rather be physically injured.

He stood up unsteadily, leaning on the wall and walked out of the room.The furniture on the first floor fell to the ground in a mess. Looking around, I didn't see Mrs. Hudson's bag or women's coat at the entrance.She was not at home.

That's good, Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief, stepped into the bright street, and was immediately grabbed by the arms of the neighbors who were eager to find him.

Probably because his mind was still a little dizzy, Sherlock didn't break free, just like this, he was carried over a distance of more than 221 meters, and was placed on the side of the road with the tenants who came out of [-]b.

The fire is slowly weakening, and even if the fire trucks don't come, it probably won't be long before it can be extinguished by itself.

People rejoiced that the explosion would not cause more damage, but Sherlock was not relieved by it.

This is not right.The houses in Baker Street are all old, and there are many wooden structures among them. Once a fire broke out, it would have been difficult to extinguish.

He stood up, shook his head, and stared thoughtfully at the only number 220 that was still burning.

The fire truck finally arrived, and Sherlock watched as the high-pressure water cannon quickly extinguished the remaining fire.William and Draco came out, escorted by firefighters.The neighbors were finally completely relieved when they saw that the last two people were also safe and sound.

Fortunately, everyone is safe.

At this time, William and Draco were covered in dust, lost all demeanor, completely different from usual, how embarrassed they looked, but Sherlock keenly noticed through the crowd that the distress was only superficial, and they were actually unharmed and completely unharmed. It doesn't look like it's been through a fire.

William noticed him, bowed his head and said something to Draco, and walked this way: "Sherlock, are you okay? Where are John and Mrs. Hudson?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock looked William up and down carefully, and said, "They happen to be absent. How is Draco?"

William turned his head and saw that Draco was sitting in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket and holding hot cocoa, surrounded by two young nurses who were greeting him.He raised his eyebrows and replied, "It looks pretty good."

"I thought he was going to be intimidated."

William smiled: "He is no longer a child."

The explosion was quite a scene, and the Scotland Yard police came hastily after the fire brigade.Sherlock saw Greg as a savior, from his stalking to the right to enter the scene, and finally he didn't have to be blocked to continue playing the victim.He couldn't wait to rush into No. 220, and what he saw was ruins. No. 220 was almost completely destroyed, and only half of the Schiller family crest in the living room was burned, dirty and crooked on the wall, everywhere. It was scorched black, and only the study room could barely see it.

Fire destroyed many traces, but also left a lot of information.Sherlock knelt down, face almost to the ground, and examined it carefully.

William and Draco were here when the explosion happened, why were they not affected at all?

"Sherlock?" Greg looked at the strange figure lying on the ground: "What are you doing?"

"I need clues."

"Don't look for it, it's a natural gas leak." Greg repeated the information the fire brigade had told him, and finally said, "An unfortunate accident."

Sherlock rolled his eyes: "Open your eyes and see, there is another explosion here! At the same time as the natural gas accidentally leaked, another explosion occurred at 220 at the same time, are you going to tell me this is a coincidence?"

Greg touched his face: "Okay, even if you are right, wait for the laboratory report to come out first, okay?"

"Sir, I found something." Donovan hurried over with a letter in his hand.She glanced at Sherlock, and handed the letter under the other's nose very unfriendly: "It says it's for you, freak."

The letter was sealed. I don't know what the psychology of this group of policemen is. No one thought of checking it before sending it.Greg wanted to wait until he returned to the police station to talk about it, but Sherlock had already accepted the letter.

"Bohemian paper, made in the Czech Republic." He walked through the ruins, came to the window that lost the glass, and looked carefully at the sunlight: "She uses a fountain pen, a Parker Flattop Dorfo series titanium gold pen."

The envelope contained a hefty, rectangular shape.Sherlock thought for a while, took out a small knife from his coat pocket, and cut a slit along the edge of the letter.Inside is a mobile phone, pink, that looks exactly like the key evidence that appeared in the case not long ago.

Greg opened his mouth, but was quickly interrupted by Sherlock before he could make a sound: "It's not the same one, someone deliberately made them look the same." Yu said: "I have been waiting for this day."

"What?" Greg didn't hear the last sentence clearly, for fear that he might have missed some important clue.

"William! Where is William?"

"Oh, he seems to have just left." Greg said uncertainly, and looked at Donovan seeking confirmation.

The female police officer nodded: "He said that his students need to rest, and the police can go to the Four Seasons Hotel to find him if necessary."

Sherlock put the mobile phone in his pocket and walked out of 220 without stopping for a moment.Greg followed behind him and asked anxiously, "What's the matter?"

"It's a game, he wants to make sure I don't get distracted, that's why he wants to destroy William. The explosion at 220 was done by him."

Greg frowned, watching Sherlock pacing anxiously on the side of the road, and waving frantically when he saw a taxi in the distance. "Wait!" He pressed and grabbed the detective's arm: "Be clear, what's going on?"

The taxi stopped in front of Sherlock, he hurriedly opened the door, and said quickly: "That fried Dan must have used Draco to get into 220, stupid! William will kill him for this. The game has just begun, he Can't die."

Greg looked bewildered, and watched the taxi leave in the dust, with a bunch of question marks in Sherlock's mind.

Will William kill?who is he?What does game mean?What happened to fried Dan?