big devil holmes

Chapter 20 Reward?

No matter how you listen to these words, there is a taste of trying to cover up.

And
'I did kill some~'

This answer is also awkward.

It's not that a detective can't kill, but what Sherlock said, coupled with his previous behavior, always feels that there are countless weird and curious stories hidden behind this sentence.

Catherine squinted at the other party, and was silent for a while; she actually wanted to continue asking, but as a clergyman of the Holy See, it was impossible to really let go of her identity and ask about the past of a commoner.

Fortunately, at this time, Sherlock took the initiative to change the subject: "Um, did you mention the reward just now?"

"How can what the Holy See give be called a reward! It should be called a gift!" Catherine corrected sharply.

"Of course, my lord, it is what you say it is."

In her opinion, Sherlock's smile was always full of hypocrisy.It even took a lot of effort before he could barely combine the guy in front of him with the figure who turned the tide just now.

But then, she raised her head slightly,
"So what do you want?" She asked, her tone naturally showed a sense of condescension.

There is no way, behind her is the Holy See, and giving rewards to the Holy See is enough to make anyone feel superior, because the Holy See will not tell you what you can get, but let you say whatever you want. After all, your wishes can basically be granted by the Holy See Achieve, as long as you have that qualification.

But it was such a question that carried the supreme glory, but it stopped Sherlock all of a sudden.

Do you still have to think about rewards?
Seeing the dazed look of the detective in front of her, Catherine thought he was shocked by the grace of the Holy See, and finally smiled from the bottom of her heart:
"I know this is a bit difficult to answer, but money, power, honor, everything is fine, even if you want to serve the Holy Light better, I can apply for a church of your own in the suburbs of London for you!"

Sherlock didn't speak, but his brows furrowed tighter and tighter, and the rain flowed down his cheeks into the stubble that hadn't been taken care of for a long time.

When he killed a deacon of the Judgment Division just now, he was not in such a difficult situation.

Because he feels that things like money and rights are not very attractive to him. In fact, he just likes to catch murderers and solve a few cases so that his mind is not always idle, that's all.

So ten seconds.30 seconds.1 minute passed
"Give me some time, I have to think about it."

That's what he finally answered.

The cumulonimbus cloud in the sky was like a bladder that was blocked at the opening of the urethra, it was finally released, and it frantically splashed the liquid that had accumulated in it for an unknown amount of time.

Under the rain, the battle that almost destroyed half of the street was actually not long, it was estimated to be only 5 minutes before and after.

The staff after the war have set up a simple tent at this moment, the gas stove in the tent is ignited, and they even provide hot water and food to satisfy their hunger; because of the wounded, heavy steam armor, and priests, it is impossible to He left while being hoisted by the airship, and it would take more than an hour for the backup transportation team to arrive, so he could only temporarily fix it on the spot.

Sherlock was sitting in a tent at this moment. This Mr. Detective, who was abandoned in the battlefield at first, and no one cared about his life, seemed to have suddenly been promoted from cannon fodder to a very important position.

At least for the time being, only Catherine and the old priest have tents to shelter from the rain.

And from time to time, some nuns would come in with the most professional battlefield medical equipment to check Sherlock and treat his injuries.

In the job planning of the Holy See, nuns are generally responsible for daily prayers and reception work between churches in urban areas, and only a few people who have received professional medical training can go to war zones.Compared with ordinary medical staff, these field nuns are proficient in almost all baptism ceremonies and prayer oaths, so they can appease soldiers whose faith has collapsed due to killing or fear, which is considered a very high-level position among nuns.

Of course, Catherine's "judgmental nun" is not counted. She is a second-tier contractor and is no longer a grassroots member of the Holy See.

Anyway, no matter what, this kind of treatment is definitely not something a commoner can enjoy
Some very thin needles and threads went through the wound on Sherlock's back. Although he only played for a dozen seconds just now, in order to better observe the battle situation from the edge of the battlefield, he also inevitably suffered some injuries. But it's not heavy, and it won't even be paralyzed or amputated, which makes him feel that the nun behind him is a little too careful.

A few times he wanted to remind the other party that he could be rude, and he didn't get shot a few times, so when digging out the bullets, don't use tweezers, it's more convenient to buckle them with your hands.

But looking at the fine sweat on the other party's forehead, and the fearful gaze that has never dared to look at him, he felt embarrassed to disturb the other party.

After a few more minutes, the wounds on her body were basically treated, and the nun performed a "worship ceremony" to Sherlock in the most humble manner, as devoutly as if facing a priest of the Holy See.

It should be the old priest who gave this nun some special instructions, right?
In short, Sherlock felt very embarrassed, and he responded awkwardly to the unskilled etiquette: "It's really troublesome for you."

These words made the other party tremble, and subconsciously looked at the other party with panicked eyes, then quickly lowered his head humbly, said the prayer silently, and exited the tent.

And shortly after the nuns went out, the tent was quickly lifted again.

This time it was a guard of the Holy See who was not equipped with steam armor.

After entering the door, the man first glanced at Mr. Detective in front of him. There was curiosity and gratitude in his eyes, and even more fear, but he hid it very well. He just said in a respectful tone:
"My lord priest, please go over."

Opening the curtain of a tent not far away, Sherlock shook off the rain on his body.

There are some medical equipment piled up in the tent, and some even need electricity to drive. I don’t know where the Holy See guys got the portable energy source.

In the middle of the tent is a bed, which looks a little nondescript. The old priest is lying on the bed at the moment. Although there is no serious injury at first glance, there is still a hanging bottle hanging above his arm, some kind of bright red. The liquid is being fed into his body along the tube.

"A kind of nutrient solution, which is said to relieve mental stress and relieve pain." Seeing Sherlock's gaze, the old priest explained helplessly: "The group of medical staff always thinks that I will die for various weird reasons. die."

"Your age is indeed not suitable for fighting." Sherlock replied with a smile, as if visiting an old friend who was bedridden: "So what did you ask me to do?"

The old priest moved back, letting himself half lean on the bed, and looked him up and down again:
"Do you want to be a contractor?"

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(End of this chapter)