big devil holmes
Chapter 334 Rent
Chapter 334 Rent
After hearing Franklin's words, Sherlock didn't simply raise his eyebrows, but looked at the emperor in front of him very suspiciously:
"Well, I don't think I said I was going to the front line."
"Oh? Really?" Franklin immediately put on a puzzled expression, as if he was trying hard to find something in his memory, and finally smiled freely: "Maybe I remembered it wrong, but going to Lei Your name is indeed on the Dirk Strait personnel list.”
After saying that, he turned around, picked up a piece of paper from the desk that looked like he had already prepared it, and handed it to Sherlock.
It has a meaning of 'I don't even want to pretend anymore'.
Sherlock took the list and saw the huge signature of [John Watson] on it.
He closed his eyes and sighed feebly: "If I'm not wrong, that guy Watson has sworn that I can follow him to the front line."
"Oh, I wish it was like this." Franklin suddenly remembered something.
"Then why did he go to the front line?"
"I remember that it was Miss Nightingale who sent an official letter to the frontline medical treatment force in Redker Channel last month, requesting permission to go to the war zone. Among the recommendations from the accompanying medical team, someone recommended John. Watson, after all, he has battlefield medical experience, and he is also familiar with Miss Nightingale.
As for why he wrote your name, I don't know. You can ask him yourself. "
Looking at Franklin's gentle smile now, it is obvious that he is the evil smile of an old fox who has succeeded in his conspiracy.
Fortunately, he could tell the truth about "someone recommended John Watson". Can that be called a recommendation? According to Watson's admiration for Miss Nightingale, let alone the front line, it's just Ask him to close his eyes and charge at the feet of the third-level demon, and he can do it.
At night, Sherlock returns to Baker Street.
The efficiency of the urban repair team is really good. After this day, the damaged walls have been repaired and the road has been filled.
Three days have passed since the last assassination. Miss Nightingale left No. 221B this afternoon because she had decided to go to the war zone, so she would have many things to do at the end of her travels in the empire. deal with.
So after a short break, she started to get busy again.
The officials of the Inquisition and the soldiers of the Imperial Royal Investigation Bureau who accompanied her also dispersed, and the whole street returned to its usual deserted appearance.
Looking at the lights on the first floor that were not extinguished, Sherlock walked over and knocked on the door.
Soon, Watson opened the door
"I thought you would come back later," he said.
Then he walked back on his own.
Sherlock looked inside the room and immediately saw two suitcases on the ground and some neatly folded clothes. The quilt on the bed had been changed, but the original set must have been stored very carefully. , that was where Miss Nightingale slept. If nothing else happened, Watson was probably planning to keep it for the rest of his life. In fact, if he cut the sheet and made it into a handkerchief, he could wear it with him every day, and take it out whenever he had nothing to do. Sherlock wouldn't be surprised if he came out and smelled it.
Well, I hope Watson won't do such a perverted thing.
After entering the room, he sat down on the chair casually: "Are you packing your luggage for Redeker Strait?"
"Yes, the temperature on the front line is very low, so always bring some warm clothes."
In Watson's suitcase, all kinds of clothes are packed tightly in a very orderly manner, which makes people feel faintly comfortable.
"Then why did you drag me over?" Sherlock asked again.
"The management of the accompanying team requested it. They made it clear that if I want to go, I have to get you on board, otherwise I won't be allowed on the airship."
"." Sherlock frowned slightly: "You didn't ask them why?"
"I asked." Watson responded nonchalantly: "But they said it was confidential and they couldn't tell me."
"So you just wrote my name on it regardless of the reason?" "Yes." Watson admitted it so simply and directly, and then folded a suit into four. It's square and fits right into a gap on the edge of the box. It's not wide or narrow at all.
Sherlock's tone seemed a little helpless: "Then you can't see it, right? The imperial government is obviously doing something."
"Of course it does."
"Then how can you be so sure that I will go to the front line with you?"
Watson stuffed the last piece of clothing into the suitcase perfectly, and then closed the lid with satisfaction:
"Because Miss Nightingale will go to the front, as a loyal supporter of hers, I naturally have to accompany her.
As for why I thought you would go, it’s because half a year ago, you dragged me to break into the ancient Roman city and assassinate the emperor.That night I was shot many times and lost a lot of blood. I was also imprisoned in a blood cell and didn't see the sun for more than six months, just because you didn't like the old emperor at that time.
But now, I just ask you to go to the front line with me. You will not refuse to go.
No way."
Watson looked at Sherlock with a slightly puzzled look, as if he was very confused as to why the other party would ask such a question.
Sherlock didn't even finish listening to Watson's words, and leaned back on his chair very weakly.
He is a person with no moral bottom line, so Watson will not stand on the moral high ground and try to persuade Sherlock, because he does not accept this trick.
But Sherlock is extremely conceited, so the excuse "You owe me" works better in front of him than any other coercion or inducement.
Watson got this right.
In fact, Sherlock really had no way to refuse Watson.
So he lowered his head helplessly, and after a while he raised it up. After seeing the two large boxes of luggage prepared by Watson, the boss asked unhappily: "Then I will accompany you to the front line, and you have to help me pack it." Let’s salute.”
"Of course, my partner, I've actually already packed it for you."
As he spoke, Watson pointed to a small package on the chair: "I brought you a change of clothes."
"One set of clothes is gone?"
"Do you need another set of clothes? One set is enough for a change of clothes." Watson responded seriously.
"Then why did you bring yourself two big suitcases?" he shouted, pointing to the two huge suitcases on the wall.
"Of course I'm different from you. I want to go to the frontline theater with Lord Nightingale.
We will most likely have meals together; we will meet by chance on the airship; I have joined her accompanying medical team, so we are likely to discuss some medical topics with each other; and I may even treat the injured with her in the Redeker Strait. .
I always wear different clothes on different occasions. This is the most basic respect for Miss Nightingale."
He talked non-stop, with undisguised joy and excitement in his tone, just like those young men and women who were about to meet their most admired idols.
And Sherlock
He is just trying to figure it out now. This guy Watson must have lived here for a long time.
It's time to pay more rent.
(End of this chapter)
After hearing Franklin's words, Sherlock didn't simply raise his eyebrows, but looked at the emperor in front of him very suspiciously:
"Well, I don't think I said I was going to the front line."
"Oh? Really?" Franklin immediately put on a puzzled expression, as if he was trying hard to find something in his memory, and finally smiled freely: "Maybe I remembered it wrong, but going to Lei Your name is indeed on the Dirk Strait personnel list.”
After saying that, he turned around, picked up a piece of paper from the desk that looked like he had already prepared it, and handed it to Sherlock.
It has a meaning of 'I don't even want to pretend anymore'.
Sherlock took the list and saw the huge signature of [John Watson] on it.
He closed his eyes and sighed feebly: "If I'm not wrong, that guy Watson has sworn that I can follow him to the front line."
"Oh, I wish it was like this." Franklin suddenly remembered something.
"Then why did he go to the front line?"
"I remember that it was Miss Nightingale who sent an official letter to the frontline medical treatment force in Redker Channel last month, requesting permission to go to the war zone. Among the recommendations from the accompanying medical team, someone recommended John. Watson, after all, he has battlefield medical experience, and he is also familiar with Miss Nightingale.
As for why he wrote your name, I don't know. You can ask him yourself. "
Looking at Franklin's gentle smile now, it is obvious that he is the evil smile of an old fox who has succeeded in his conspiracy.
Fortunately, he could tell the truth about "someone recommended John Watson". Can that be called a recommendation? According to Watson's admiration for Miss Nightingale, let alone the front line, it's just Ask him to close his eyes and charge at the feet of the third-level demon, and he can do it.
At night, Sherlock returns to Baker Street.
The efficiency of the urban repair team is really good. After this day, the damaged walls have been repaired and the road has been filled.
Three days have passed since the last assassination. Miss Nightingale left No. 221B this afternoon because she had decided to go to the war zone, so she would have many things to do at the end of her travels in the empire. deal with.
So after a short break, she started to get busy again.
The officials of the Inquisition and the soldiers of the Imperial Royal Investigation Bureau who accompanied her also dispersed, and the whole street returned to its usual deserted appearance.
Looking at the lights on the first floor that were not extinguished, Sherlock walked over and knocked on the door.
Soon, Watson opened the door
"I thought you would come back later," he said.
Then he walked back on his own.
Sherlock looked inside the room and immediately saw two suitcases on the ground and some neatly folded clothes. The quilt on the bed had been changed, but the original set must have been stored very carefully. , that was where Miss Nightingale slept. If nothing else happened, Watson was probably planning to keep it for the rest of his life. In fact, if he cut the sheet and made it into a handkerchief, he could wear it with him every day, and take it out whenever he had nothing to do. Sherlock wouldn't be surprised if he came out and smelled it.
Well, I hope Watson won't do such a perverted thing.
After entering the room, he sat down on the chair casually: "Are you packing your luggage for Redeker Strait?"
"Yes, the temperature on the front line is very low, so always bring some warm clothes."
In Watson's suitcase, all kinds of clothes are packed tightly in a very orderly manner, which makes people feel faintly comfortable.
"Then why did you drag me over?" Sherlock asked again.
"The management of the accompanying team requested it. They made it clear that if I want to go, I have to get you on board, otherwise I won't be allowed on the airship."
"." Sherlock frowned slightly: "You didn't ask them why?"
"I asked." Watson responded nonchalantly: "But they said it was confidential and they couldn't tell me."
"So you just wrote my name on it regardless of the reason?" "Yes." Watson admitted it so simply and directly, and then folded a suit into four. It's square and fits right into a gap on the edge of the box. It's not wide or narrow at all.
Sherlock's tone seemed a little helpless: "Then you can't see it, right? The imperial government is obviously doing something."
"Of course it does."
"Then how can you be so sure that I will go to the front line with you?"
Watson stuffed the last piece of clothing into the suitcase perfectly, and then closed the lid with satisfaction:
"Because Miss Nightingale will go to the front, as a loyal supporter of hers, I naturally have to accompany her.
As for why I thought you would go, it’s because half a year ago, you dragged me to break into the ancient Roman city and assassinate the emperor.That night I was shot many times and lost a lot of blood. I was also imprisoned in a blood cell and didn't see the sun for more than six months, just because you didn't like the old emperor at that time.
But now, I just ask you to go to the front line with me. You will not refuse to go.
No way."
Watson looked at Sherlock with a slightly puzzled look, as if he was very confused as to why the other party would ask such a question.
Sherlock didn't even finish listening to Watson's words, and leaned back on his chair very weakly.
He is a person with no moral bottom line, so Watson will not stand on the moral high ground and try to persuade Sherlock, because he does not accept this trick.
But Sherlock is extremely conceited, so the excuse "You owe me" works better in front of him than any other coercion or inducement.
Watson got this right.
In fact, Sherlock really had no way to refuse Watson.
So he lowered his head helplessly, and after a while he raised it up. After seeing the two large boxes of luggage prepared by Watson, the boss asked unhappily: "Then I will accompany you to the front line, and you have to help me pack it." Let’s salute.”
"Of course, my partner, I've actually already packed it for you."
As he spoke, Watson pointed to a small package on the chair: "I brought you a change of clothes."
"One set of clothes is gone?"
"Do you need another set of clothes? One set is enough for a change of clothes." Watson responded seriously.
"Then why did you bring yourself two big suitcases?" he shouted, pointing to the two huge suitcases on the wall.
"Of course I'm different from you. I want to go to the frontline theater with Lord Nightingale.
We will most likely have meals together; we will meet by chance on the airship; I have joined her accompanying medical team, so we are likely to discuss some medical topics with each other; and I may even treat the injured with her in the Redeker Strait. .
I always wear different clothes on different occasions. This is the most basic respect for Miss Nightingale."
He talked non-stop, with undisguised joy and excitement in his tone, just like those young men and women who were about to meet their most admired idols.
And Sherlock
He is just trying to figure it out now. This guy Watson must have lived here for a long time.
It's time to pay more rent.
(End of this chapter)
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