big devil holmes

Chapter 47 In my career.
Thomas Cordova.
In fact, his name is not that important. After a while, he may not even be able to remember his own name.

Because he had slowly opened the only remaining eye, and then, he saw a row of glass jars, through the muddy liquid inside, he could vaguely make out a glass jar floating in one of the jars. A human head from which the skin tissue has been stripped.

He swallowed, the last image in his memory was two people crazily abusing their contract demon.

Thinking of this, his heart suddenly jumped wildly, and that sense of emptiness spread all over his body.

He could clearly feel that his contract demon was dead.
Because of the connection between the demon and its master, he began to feel the severe pain in his mind, nausea, twitching of all muscles and organs, emptiness, and despair irresistibly at this moment.

This is a backlash effect of losing a contracted creature. Fortunately, it has just reached the first stage. If it reaches the second or third stage, the death of the contracted demon may directly cause its owner to become a lunatic due to backlash, a vegetative state , or die on the spot.

It took a long time, and he finally forcibly calmed himself down in this emptiness; then, he looked around again, and found that the place he was in was an operating room, but the hygienic environment was extremely Too bad, all the facilities have an unpleasant smell.

As for his body, he was tied up on an operating table, but instead of lying down, the operating table was raised to an almost standing angle, so he could see the surrounding environment clearly.

"Is it imprisoned?" he thought.

In the next second, only the sound of 'Kara' turning the handle, the door of the room was pushed open, and then an extremely handsome man, who could even be called beautiful, walked in.

Very typical British clothing, neat shirt and trousers, a well-matched tie, and light yellow hair, there is a certain noble and quiet taste between the eyebrows and eyes, and there is a cup of coffee in his hand, which seems to be in harmony with the room. The style doesn't match at all.

The three eyes met, Watson put one hand in his pocket, smiled and took a sip of coffee: "It seems that you are awake!"

Probably heard the voice, and soon, another person came into sight.

Tall and thin, with a face that is too sharp--Sherlock Holmes!

Tomac Cordova's only remaining eyeball suddenly went round, revealing an undisguised fury!
As a family member of the deacon of Badr, after his death, he was dismissed by the Holy See from all positions, houses, and property.
Even the right to worship in church was denied.

As a devout believer, this is more uncomfortable than killing him!

What makes him even more unacceptable is that he has been with Deacon Badr for almost 20 years, and has performed countless missions issued by the Tribunal. With his own characteristics of silent assassination of demons, he has accumulated a lot of honors. In a few years, maybe he can be favored by the Holy See and train himself to be promoted to the second stage of the contractor. At that time, he may even become a priest!

However, all of this was shattered just a few nights ago.

My own master is dead!

Without warning, suddenly!
Tomac Cordova is just a family member, so he naturally cannot know the truth of this matter, but he is a member of the Holy See after all. After working for so many years, he also has some information channels of his own.

So when he was kicked out of the church, deprived of his faith, and lost all hope in life, he spent all the favors and reputation he had accumulated to find a name. Sherlock Holmes.

A downtown private eye.

Although I don't know the details, Deacon Badr died after meeting this detective. He died on Baker Street, and Baker Street was also where the detective's agency was located.

So, Tomac Cordoba naturally poured all his anger and unwillingness on this civilian detective.

It made sense both emotionally and rationally, but this result was a bit beyond his expectation.

"Very good, it can be seen from this look that he has a high degree of hatred for me." Sherlock said, then walked closer to the operating table, looked at the face of the other party who had not yet wiped off the blood: "Aren't you going to fight with me?" What can I say?"

"Hahaha————" Tomac Cordova laughed wantonly: "The garbage in the lower city, you will not get any information from me, you will experience panic and anxiety under my most vicious curse , trembling in the darkest corner until being killed!"

Sherlock frowned, looked at Watson and asked, "Do these people in the Holy See speak in this way?"

"Almost." Watson sipped his coffee. "People who pray too much are like this. Priest Thompson is usually more annoying than this!"

"Okay." Sherlock shrugged, and said to Tomac Cordoba: "Then after my simple analysis, you should be a close friend of Deacon Badr, and his death has dealt you a big blow. , your position in the Holy See is not high, you can only find me, a poor man in the lower city, and you want to kill me. Of course, judging from what you said just now, you probably told me my name Others, otherwise, it would be impossible to think that I would be "killed" and die in this situation, right?"

Tomac Cordova was taken aback for a moment, then shut his mouth wisely, and stopped talking.

"Who is Deacon Badr?" Watson asked curiously.

"I received a commission before, you must have heard that it is a priest, hey. It is not easy to be a detective, and you will offend people from time to time." Sherlock sighed helplessly: "Then the rest of the assignment Here you go."

"Okay." Watson said, and put the coffee cup on a blood-stained table by the wall, and then began to carefully and neatly roll up the cuffs of the shirt above the forearm, which looked very ceremonial, like It's as if I'm going to sit in front of the piano and play a song next.

Of course, there is no piano here, so Watson took out a hollowed-out iron hoop from the drawer with great ease, and stuffed it into Tomac Cordova's mouth
"Hi sir, my name is John Watson, although I am very presumptuous, but I need to inform you now that we are going to start a little game, and in the meantime, in order not to let you bite off your tongue , to delay the chat between us, I have no choice but to pull out all your teeth first."

While speaking, he took out another pair of pliers, the dried blood on it formed a strange contrast with that beautiful hand.

In the next second, he directly stuffed the pliers into the opponent's mouth, clamped a front tooth and twisted it skillfully! ! ! !

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

A big bloody hole burst open in the gums instantly, and an inhuman scream erupted from the man's throat!

"Okay, okay, there's no need to make such a loud noise. Tooth extraction is just a precautionary measure. Our execution has not yet begun." Watson's eyes were smiling, and he seemed to enjoy the process: "By the way, if you want to If you want to chat, just blink, of course. I definitely don't want you to give up so soon, you are a person of faith, right, let's play for a few hours as much as possible."

As he spoke, another tooth was pulled out.

Sherlock was very satisfied with Watson's precautionary measures and methods. It could be seen that he was indeed experienced, so he simply didn't bother him here.
"You play slowly, I'll wait outside."

After speaking, he walked out of the room, and closed the door very intimately.

The screams were cut off, and Sherlock found a sofa and sat down. But less than half an hour later, Watson opened the door and walked out. He wiped the blood on his hands, and muttered in a bit of disappointment: "Really, I thought I could play a little longer."

"Ask out?"

Watson smiled:

"We just met, you may not know me, in my career, there is no 'can't ask' situation."

(End of this chapter)