[Comprehensive] Today is also proving to Sherlock that I am a traveler

Christa and Sherlock were not hindered in their return to London. Because they had greeted McCaw in advance, they were allowed to enter the country without going through any troublesome inspection procedures, and finally the plane landed in Edinburgh smoothly.

The trip was but a fleeting moment in a sweet dream for Krista.She rubbed her sleepy eyes, the bottom of her eyes was full of water vapor, and her eyes that were not fully awake were blank and innocent.

Sherlock took a look, and the dazed Krista and the alert state hardly looked like the same person. He saw the harmless side of Krista more and more, and the alert state rarely appeared—— At least when facing him alone.

He quickly looked away.

The process of coming back was much smoother than what he had initially imagined. He thought that the last party in the Jiang Li incident, the kidnappers, belonged to the same party, and should have prevented him and Christa from returning to London, but in fact The other party did not stop——

Krista answered the phone and turned to Sherlock, "One of the four trips I booked was cut off."

"So this matter is not for you, but for me."

She sneered, in a contemptuous and annoyed tone.

Sherlock didn't answer, and Krista didn't need to.

He was still thinking about the question just now.

Isn't it the same party?No.Once again, he integrated all the pieces of information without missing a single piece. Krell and those people undoubtedly belonged to the same side, and the shadow shrouded behind Christa was only this side.

Christa quickly walked through the protective fence, and McCoff's people were already waiting at the exit of the airport. It was a young man who seemed to have no sense of existence.He might be 30, he might be 40—European looks and their corresponding ages always confuse her.

Christa caught Sherlock's thoughtful expression. "Claire?" She asked uncertainly, the degree of Sherlock's concern for this man was a bit inexplicable.

"You...how did you let him keep the itinerary a secret?" Sherlock couldn't understand.But only this kind of explanation can clearly explain why the other party focused on the itinerary that Christa used to confuse people's hearts.

She closed the car door, made a gesture that could be activated, and then answered Sherlock ambiguously, "In the rules of human life, there are only eternal interests, and there is no eternal loyalty."

For Krell, her identity came from some unknown reason, and in short, it made him very afraid.It is undoubtedly much easier to negotiate conditions under this premise.Krell and the others constrain each other and maintain a delicate balance point. Christa promises that she will break the balance on the suspension thread, so that Krell has a chance to go further.

It is not difficult for Christa, who has a keen sense of emotions and is extremely good at guessing people's hearts, to balance the game.

She gets what she wants easily and with absolute certainty.So before contacting Claire, she dared to make such an arrangement with Sherlock.

"If necessary, your wishes will come first." Krell put his hand on his left chest, respectful like a knight swearing loyalty - if there is no hidden ambition in his eyes.

This order from the asylum that she didn't know saved her a lot of negotiating tongues, and Christa sometimes wondered how anyone in this world could precisely step on her line of defense every step of the way. Never a trace of crossing the line?The other party knew her almost better than herself.

It's incredible.

"Happy cooperation." She responded with a smile. She was more than happy to hand over a ladder that did no harm to her. Whether the other party stepped on the air and fell down was none of her business.

Christa turned her head to look at the flowing scenery outside the window. The sky was slightly dark, the dusk was unbelievably magnificent, and there was still a bit of depression and dignity before the storm.

"Dawn." She sighed in a low voice.

"It's Twilight," Sherlock corrected.

"I'm not talking about the morning light in the sense of time." She blocked the sunset light that was piercing into her eyes with her hands, "but in other senses, the long night of lies was finally pierced by the light of truth, Usher in the dawn of the world."

"Okay. Dawn."

His gaze was fixed on the girl's face reflected on the car window, and those pupils, which were wrapped in golden embers by the last embers of the sun, were clearly reflected at the same time.

It's like the dawn.

***

No matter how secret the news of Sherlock's return to London was, the moment he stepped into Baker Street, it was no longer a secret to those who cared.

Christa went back to her room after eating something to beat the jet lag, and the detective stood in the night and said good night to her softly.

After confirming that the plane landed smoothly, Krell automatically reported his behavior to his boss.

Although he is the youngest son of the family, he is not very favored. The eldest brother above has already taken over the family business, and even has several children, which are deeply loved by the old men.And a guy like Krell who is not an orthodox wedlock is not lovable within the family, especially his motherhood makes this self-esteemed family feel ashamed.

In order to bury the disgraceful background of the young master of the family, they ruthlessly disposed of the woman whose every move was coquettish, but she was useless in life and death.

birth.birth.

This word has ruthlessly pronounced his fate since he was still in his mother's womb.

But how willing he is! Obviously he can do better than his arrogant and conservative elder brother, but he can only become a dispensable shadow in the family because of his humble background.

But it doesn't matter now, he is about to realize his ambition and aspirations, with the help of Christa.He knew that there was nothing wrong with his original choice.

He was so grateful for the information he overheard overheard back then.

God can't save me from fire and water, but the god on the throne can.

For this, offer all your allegiance to the gods.

The other party did not respond quickly to the fact that Krell sent Krista and Sherlock back to London.Krell got the final result of this matter a week later-a transfer order.

Regarding the order to transfer him to the headquarters in the near future.

He looked at the email and smiled smugly.

***

Krista has to run around with things, especially when she's trying to figure things out.

Sivir's photo was placed in front of Sherlock, the blond young man was standing next to a huge painting, and the black dress complemented the rich colors around him.

The detective used his proud memory to quickly find out the intersection between Christa and this person, "the first person you met when you came to London last year."

Christa took a pen and drew a striking red circle on his face in the photo, "Yes. Sivir, my mother's student. Probably also a bad luck."

The kind of unlucky ghost in the true sense.

Jiu Yuan's name was picked up again, "Isn't it surprising that Aisha Field was taught by him?" She raised her eyebrows, "Sivir also had a secret relationship with Flora. But they soon broke up, and then Flora hooked up with Williams."

"It's just a coincidence." She flicked her finger to put away the photo, to avoid Sherlock thinking complicated or explaining too much.

"I made an appointment with Sivir. He was the last person my mother saw when she left Europe. Maybe there is something unexpected." She glanced at her watch, "There are still two hours, I have to go."

Sherlock replied lazily that he knew.

"You'd better bring an umbrella when you go to see McCoff." Christa reminded kindly, "The weather forecast says it will rain today."

"Also, as a reward for reminding you, please bring me a strawberry cake at the first dessert shop on the third street you pass by when you come back today."

"Sweets that are disgustingly greasy." Sherlock complained dissatisfied, "What is it that makes you so addicted?"

Christa turned her head and smiled, "Sherlock, I never express any opinion on your nicotine patches, and I hope you don't complain too much about my cute little desserts."

"Let's learn to respect each other, OK?"

"Okay. If you want." Sherlock smirked, "But you have to let your lovely teeth understand this, otherwise you will end up with that fat man."

"Of course, I will restrain myself." She turned her back to Sherlock and waved away casually.

***

Mycroft's newsletter mentioned that there was something of interest to him here.

"It's about that funny lady in your house. You won't be disappointed."

So Sherlock saw a... man who was about to go mad.

His short, greasy black hair looked like it hadn't been washed in centuries, and his cheap red T-shirt didn't fit well, and his trousers were ragged.His previous financial situation was very poor.

Sherlock continued to watch him.

His nails were severely worn out, and he had to rely on physical labor to make ends meet.Long-term malnutrition can be seen from the complexion.Dirt and gasoline, as well as soap scum, were hidden between the bare nails.The most recent job was as a car mechanic, not a regular garage employee, and paid very little.

The calluses on the index finger and the tiger's mouth belonged to someone who held a gun all year round. His muscles were in a slack state. His right leg had been seriously injured. It was a wound caused by a cold weapon. It was a knife that was sharp enough but only about fifteen centimeters in length.

A special training and dangerous job... agent.Then for some reason, it wasn't a wound, it was ruthlessly abandoned, and even hunted down - there were new bullet holes on the shoulder blade.

He avoided the deadly part with experience, but it was useless.Soon he fell into the hands of the fat man.

As for now, the man looks like he's insane.Or on the verge of madness.

drug.

Some kind of special drug had damaged his nervous system and tortured him like this.

"You let me see a madman show?" Sherlock sarcastically mercilessly, "The taxpayers are feeding a bunch of idiots with their money."

Mycroft patted him on the shoulder, "My dear brother, don't say that. I need your help now. Isn't it easy to ask a little bit of information with your ability? Of course, you can ask some I want to know, this gentleman's brain is a treasure, but unfortunately he is unwilling to hand over the key."

"Ask a lunatic?" Sherlock's eyes flashed with the word "idiot", and he didn't know who he was addressing.

"He's not crazy, is he? People who have experienced more pain can always endure more." Mycroft said meaningfully.

"Stupid talk."

Two 10 minutes later.

The man who had suffered severe mental torture looked blankly at the Holmes brothers.

……

"Who is Charlotte?"

The numb man's reaction to the question was violent, "Charlotte. Charlotte. Oh! What a gentle and beautiful goddess she is....Those filthy degenerates have hurt her...Unforgivable... ...unforgivable!"

An answer of little value.The detective thought, but the name "Degenerate" is a bit strange, is it a special code for the person who hurt Charlotte?

The man kept repeating the unforgivable nervously.

Mycroft, who was sitting on a chair beside him watching the interrogation, had a very leisurely posture, with his fingers interlaced on the table.

He seemed a little pity about the Sherlock question.

His dear brother was hiding something from him.

"I think it's more appropriate for you to ask Miss Christa directly, after all, you won't have this chance in the future, Sherlock."

Unmoved, Sherlock continued to question him, not wanting to miss the slightest expression on his face.

—After all, the man isn't completely mad, is he?

"Have you heard of Jiang Li?"

There was a moment of bewilderment on the man's face.

Sherlock understood, and continued to throw out a series of names.

"Andre Heard?"

Still at a loss.

"Jiang Yuebai?"

Constantly at a loss.

Sherlock frowned, and was about to change another name, when a name popped out of his tongue uncontrollably——

"Krista Hield?"

This time the man finally reacted, his eyes were dark and crazy——

"Hahaha. Of course I know, after all, no one in this world knows except me—"

"A substitute chosen by thousands of people! A damned unlucky ghost, a sacrifice chosen by the devil, a fool who was confused by the devil's rhetoric, a poor girl who was dragged to hell by the shameless devil!"

"But she's still alive." Sherlock pointed out calmly.

"Impossible!" The man was furious in vain, his eyes were red like blood, if the chains hadn't restrained him, he would have rushed forward and grabbed Sherlock's neck and shouted crazily.Although he couldn't rush forward, sharp words still popped out of his chapped lips one by one: "This is impossible! She was chosen...we are all chosen. She should have died long ago .She's dead long ago..."

As he spoke, he suddenly calmed down strangely, as if he had understood some important secret, he lingered on Sherlock with malicious eyes, and his smile was eerie.

"You are so naive. Do you think you'll meet the real Krista Hield? Impossible!"

"No one can see her! She was taken by the devil! The god is dead! Killed by the devil! No one can save her!"

"Her soul has long been swallowed by demons and taken to hell."

"It must be, it must be that dirty and disgusting devil that climbed up from hell!"

"devil!"

he screamed sharply.The high-pitched sound can almost penetrate the human eardrum.

Still maintaining his unchanging leisurely posture, Mycroft tapped the ground with the black umbrella he placed beside the table, signaling his subordinates who were in charge of taking notes to go out.

"Sherlock, you see, you did not come in vain this trip, and you have gained a lot. How interesting."

The author has something to say: I originally wanted to end this volume with this chapter, but found that there are still some things left to write...