big devil holmes

Chapter 163
Catherine knew that Sherlock was an extremely smart person, but she still looked at him with a look of 'Is your brain sick?'.Even at that moment just now, there was an urge to conduct a personnel test again.

Does he know what he's talking about?

Can a person travel thousands of kilometers in an instant?

Or is it the contract demon who manipulates himself from such a long distance?
As long as you are a sane person, you will not have such an idea.

In fact, under normal circumstances, Sherlock would not first consider such a crazy explanation method. He is a detective, and no matter how powerful his divergent thinking is, he must base it on facts.

But for him at this moment, these two explanations are really based on facts.

He himself is the basis.

Just a few hours ago, he moved a sofa from London, and at this moment, he can control dozens of demons to appear anywhere in London.

If the murderer has the same ability as himself, then he can do this.

Of course, Sherlock didn't think that the frontline officer named Baskerville really had the same ability as himself, after all, there is only one sun in hell.

But it can't be ruled out that he has other methods. He must have used some kind of method that can amaze himself, to achieve such an unbelievable thing!

Only in this way can I not waste myself running so hard.

So, Sherlock began to pace the room, and gradually entered a state of thinking.

In this state, he almost eliminated the influence of all other external factors, and countless information circled in his mind. After possessing that unexplainable ability, his efficiency in collecting evidence for the case reached an unbelievably exaggerated level.

Just now, he got the name of Baskerville and his simple identity information.

Then he can search for some information about Baskerville in his mind. Although it is very vague, it is still extremely useful.

For example, he has now learned that the chief of staff named Baskerville has no relatives and never applies for leave. In other words, he rarely leaves the front line of Hell's Gate in Antarctica.

And just 93 days ago, the First Covenant Corps under the Crusaders conducted a 40-hour battle at a precise location on the Antarctic continent, and the commander of this battle, with a 90% probability, was personally commanded by Baskerville.

Moreover, this probability is constantly rising with the integration of various information, and soon reached 97%.

In short, it is basically certain that this guy was definitely on the front line when the old dean died, instead of finding someone to replace him, and then secretly found a ship to cross the Redek Strait, sneaked into the Academy of Life Sciences, manipulated his own contract demon to kill the old dean, and then secretly returned to the battlefield.

Oh, by the way, this terrifying ability to collect information is called [Thinking Palace] by Sherlock.

In fact, he planned to call it the [Clue Vault] at first, but afterward he felt that this ability was really useful, and he should give it a more stylish name.

In short, Sherlock was pacing, wandering, and thinking like this, and time was torn into pieces in a crazy storm of thinking, until he suddenly felt a burst of dizziness, and then he suddenly recovered.

Looking around, I found that Catherine had already sat in a corner of the laboratory, closed her eyes, and fell asleep slightly
For more than three months, it seemed that she was the only one in the whole world who desperately believed that her father was murdered to death, so it was hard to imagine how much pressure she was under. The extremely exhausted and emaciated body actually made this woman reveal a hint of pity.

Of course, no one would think that a trial nun is a pitiful person. Even though she is no longer a priest, she still has the strength of a second-order powerhouse. She was stared at by Sherlock, and she immediately instinctively realized that she was being watched by a bunch of eyes. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and then the domineering woman came back.

"What time is it?" Sherlock asked.

"Six o'clock, you've been wandering there for almost four hours."

"Sorry, I'm a person who tends to lose track of time when I think about things." Sherlock's tone didn't sound apologetic. Feeling dizzy, he smiled and said, "I'm also very hungry. A guy said a few days ago that the consumption of the brain is several times that of other organs."

Catherine got up: "Let's go, I'll take you to eat something."

The night and day of the School of Life Sciences present two completely different states.

The daytime here is extremely quiet, there are almost no pedestrians on the streets, but at night, all the long streets come alive as if they suddenly woke up from a dream.

Those who have worked in the laboratory for seven or eight hours seem to have boundless energy. They are not like the physical workers on the dock. After work, they will lie on the bed with the exhaustion of the whole body, and they are too tired to move.

There are too many unconstrained ideas in their minds, and they seem to want to talk to someone all the time.

Anyway, as long as you have never been to the Institute of Life Sciences, it is hard to believe that in this sacred place of science known as the entire empire, the best business is actually the bar.

Bars of all kinds!
70% of scientific research workers think that their thinking is most active after drinking, and their conversation is most free and easy, so when you walk into any bar, you can see a few middle-aged people who have not had time to take off their lab coats gathered at a table, discussing some different scientific research topics, and if the people at the other table disagree with their ideas, they will come to join the discussion in all likelihood.

Fights happen almost every day in bars here.

Maybe in other cities, two people will consider many external factors before fighting, such as the other party's economic strength, social status, whether there is any support behind them, whether to pay for damages, etc. Anyway, after some cross-beams, most fights will not end.

But the School of Life Sciences is different. If two people have different ideas, no one can convince anyone. There are even some laboratories whose research directions are fundamentally hostile to each other, so they will quarrel when they meet. The ending with a swollen face, just don't delay going to work the next day.

Under the night, the noise from the stores on both sides could be faintly heard on the street.

Sherlock followed Catherine through the long street that wasn't too cold, and crossed street lights that weren't too bright. The light from the bar not far away passed through the window, constantly changing the shadows of the two people.

Such a night can already be called bustling in this era.
After walking for a while, the noise gradually receded, and the two came to a relatively quiet bar.

Push in
Sherlock couldn't help being a little surprised, because only looking at the inconspicuous small wooden door outside, he couldn't imagine that there was such a large space inside.

A glass-framed chandelier hangs above the head, and some atmospheric paintings are hung on the original-colored walls. In the middle of the venue is a huge pale gold bar, with a variety of wine glasses placed very carefully. Nice incense.

The most important thing is that the temperature here is very comfortable. It seems that the boss here has built an underground steam pipe to wrap the whole building in order to achieve the effect of temperature control.

This kind of cost is not a small amount, but the owner of this store just chose a location on the very edge of the block, and made such an inconspicuous small door, which resulted in very few people in this bar.

The two found a slightly edge seat, and Sherlock picked up the menu on the table and glanced at it.
this moment!
He, who was able to maintain absolute concentration when facing the third-tier big demon head-on slaughter, actually felt a little nervous.

He hesitated for a while, then looked at Catherine, and asked a little cautiously:

"you please?"

Catherine looked at Sherlock's expression, first a touch of surprise appeared on her cold face, and then she laughed like an ice and snow:

"Haha, I really don't know how many times you have to shock me before you give up. Are you worried about money?"

"Of course, haven't you looked at the prices here?" Sherlock pointed to the menu on his hand, the shock still persisting.

Catherine seemed to like seeing Sherlock's slightly embarrassed expression, she pursed her lips: "But... with your ability, you should be able to easily make a lot of money, right?"

"Actually, it's not that easy." Sherlock said, "Cases don't happen every day, and civilians usually don't pay too much commission fees."

Catherine nodded. She suddenly found that her mood seemed to have improved a little, but she didn't know the reason.

Maybe it's because I found that the man in front of me is not omnipotent, he also has weaknesses, and he will also show a embarrassed expression.

The soft lights came down with the music, and Catherine chewed the food in front of her in small bites.

Some guests next to him looked over here from time to time.
The news of the dean's death has been suppressed, but many people in the School of Life Sciences have already known about it, so as the dean's daughter, she will naturally receive attention, but the implications of these attentions are too complicated.

No one came up to say hello, and no one dared to make eye contact with Catherine. They just watched from a distance and calmly. Occasionally, some extremely low voices would be heard. Those people thought that Catherine would definitely not be able to hear them, but they didn't know that a second-level contractor had much sharper senses than normal people. She could hear clearly, but she just didn't want to pay attention.

So, she ate very quietly, carefully digesting every bite of food she ate.

At this moment, a waiter walked over slowly, dragged a bottle of wine with a clean towel, and said with great respect:
"Miss, do you need a glass of wine?"

In some high-end restaurants, waiters often ask guests such questions, so Catherine didn't feel that the other party was being rude. It just so happened that she was in a good mood at the moment, so she nodded and looked at Sherlock across the table: "This gentleman also needs a cup."

"Yes, beautiful lady."

The waiter carefully poured the wine into the goblet on the table for two, the bright red liquid looked so alluring under the overhead light.

"This wine is definitely not cheap." Sherlock took a sip and clicked his mouth. In fact, he knows a little about red wine, but he has never drank it, so he can't taste good or bad at all.

Catherine also took a sip, the bright red juice remained between her lips and teeth, exuding a faint sweet taste.

Suddenly, she was stunned for a moment, looked at the wine glass in front of her in disbelief, then turned her head, and looked at the attendant beside her who hadn't left in disbelief.

"This wine.?"

The attendant bowed slightly, smiled and said:
"It's the wine of Ms. Irene Adler. She said that you look in a good mood today, and it should match this bottle of wine very well."

As he spoke, the attendant turned slightly and motioned to a table not far away.

Catherine looked over.

Sherlock naturally followed suit.

I saw a woman in her 30s sitting beside the table, wearing a red dress and a black hat with a huge round shade. Her long reddish-brown hair was curly and drooping, covering one side of her eyes in the shadow. In fact, she was wearing very simple clothes, and there were not many embellishments on her dress, but she was inexplicably exuding a certain age-like elegance. Money goes out.

Seeing Catherine and Sherlock looking towards her, she greeted with a smile.

Catherine also smiled and nodded her thanks.

"Is there any reason for this glass of wine? You seem surprised." Sherlock asked.

Catherine spoke slowly:
"If you talk too much, you may not understand. In short, the glass in front of you can buy the house on the half street where you live in London."

Sherlock froze.

He looked at the glass of red wine in front of him in disbelief, then raised his head, looked at the woman not far away, and found that at this moment, the other person was also looking at him, and their eyes lightly touched each other under the soft light.

Sherlock put on a very rare gentleman's expression.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Irene Adler."

(End of this chapter)