big devil holmes

Chapter 542: One of the Endings (Part )

No one can truly describe what kind of smell is filling the air of the empire right now.

Take London for example. During the Great Crusade, the economy was depressed and all taxes were used to build a military base on the other side of the Redek Strait. However, the streets were lined with shops and small stalls were full of people. After a long day of work, everyone gathered in the pub on the corner, opened a glass of wine and fantasized about the arrival of a new era in the near future.

Even during the second demon invasion, the corpses of demons and the blood of the garrisoned soldiers appeared on the streets from time to time, but people still stood firmly on the last line of defense, waiting to beat the next batch of demons into a hornet's nest.

There have been many critical moments in the history of the empire, but people have persevered because they can see hope.

It's the kind of feeling that even if I fight to the death, my wife can still live a good life. Even if our entire family dies in this tragic battle, our descendants will always have a happy day.

Hope is the most basic element for people to survive.

But today's empire is dead.

Most of the shops on the street were closed. Their doors were knocked open and the goods inside had long been looted. The wind blew through the open doors, causing them to creak and shake. Some workers, like lost souls, walked towards the factory in confusion. There was no expression on their faces, as if they could not find the meaning of their work. They just felt that if they did not work today, they might not have anything to eat in the evening.

In just a few short years, the empire has transformed from a once powerful human society into a decaying, dying aggregate, just like an old man with cancer who has no hope of recovery but has not yet died, struggling on the threshold between life and death, allowing cancer cells to grow and devour him bit by bit.

The cancer of the empire is called Moriarty.

The government followed the emperor's order and tried its best to create a festive atmosphere, but it had no money to hold a parade or even buy colorful lights. It had to use public loudspeakers to play festive music all over the street and then stick colored paper on the street lights to create a colorful visual effect.

But after nightfall, the colored papers dyed the dim light into messy spots of light, outlining the entire city like a terrifying illusion.

The glory faded, and the smell in the air was called despair.

Even during the celebration, what could be seen everywhere was still death, decadence, filth, evil and corruption. Those lights were like a microcosm of the despair of the people of the empire, and they were forcibly mixed together.

In such a scene, a lonely figure walks on the long street, seemingly blending into it perfectly, just like in those old photos, in the mottled light of the Thames before nightfall, a bleak figure in a windbreaker walks quietly past the equally bleak buildings, neither hurried nor slow.

A taxi passed by
This vehicle, powered by electricity and fuel, came out a few years ago and is gradually replacing horse-drawn carriages on the streets of London. After all, the streets full of feces really affect the cityscape.

"Sir, do you need a ride?"

The driver rolled down the window and asked. From his sunken eye sockets, one could tell that he had been having a hard time recently.

The economic depression has left most people with no spare money to take a taxi, but this driver has a family to support.

"Ok."

The man in the windbreaker nodded and got in the back seat of the car.

"Where to go?"

"London Airship Landing Station."

"Uh," the driver hesitated for a moment, but kindly reminded, "During the recent celebration, the civil airship has stopped operating. If you need to travel far, it is better to go to the train station."

"No, there are too many passengers on the train, so an airship is more convenient. I'll just grab one."

"???"

The driver found such strange words a bit absurd and subconsciously looked towards the rearview mirror. He then saw the angular face in the back seat.

He frowned because he seemed to have seen this face somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where it was for a moment.

"Sir, you are a person who likes to joke." The driver responded with a smile. Chatting with passengers is also a basic professional skill for taxi drivers.

But the next second.

His face froze for a moment, then he opened his mouth slightly. He didn't even bother to look at the road ahead. His eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror, and his eyeballs seemed to be popping out.

He remembered this face!
Just a few years ago, this face frequently appeared in major newspapers. He was a hero, a criminal, came back to life, and was killed by Mr. Dante.

Yes, the person who should have died long ago.

"You... " "Watch the road." Sherlock reminded calmly.

The driver quickly turned the steering wheel to avoid running off the road.

It was a very difficult drive. Any driver would find it difficult to remain calm if he found out that he was driving a wanted criminal who should have died long ago. However, this driver might be a person who could not stand loneliness and curiosity. He drove in silence towards the outskirts of London and felt uneasy for more than ten minutes.

"Sir, aren't you dead?" As if it were an occupational disease, he started chatting with the terrorist wanted criminal behind him.

"Of course, but this isn't the first time I've come back from the dead, right?" Sherlock didn't mind, just looked out the window and responded to the chat.

"So, where are you going this time?"

"Ancient Roman Law City."

Sherlock said calmly.

The driver seemed to have thought of something. He was trembling all over and used all his strength to keep his breathing steady. He wanted to ask something else, but the words were choked on his lips. He just stepped on the accelerator slightly and sped up towards the destination.

Soon, the car stopped, Sherlock got out and paid the fare.

Without saying too much, he just turned around and walked towards the airship landing field not far away.

"Sir, be careful on your way." the driver suddenly shouted.

The figure in the windbreaker did not look back, but waved casually in the wind, just like those tourists who took an airship to meet old friends.

Of course, as the driver said, there are no civilian airships in operation now, and there are always some small episodes in Sherlock's process of snatching the airship.

For example, when he passed the guard, he was always asked why he came here. When he tried to force his way into the airship docking station, he was stopped by the guard. After seeing his face, some people remembered something and took out their guns in panic.

But for some reason, people seemed to be thinking of the destination he had just mentioned, and remembered that the reason he became a wanted criminal was because he assassinated the emperor of the empire.

An extremely absurd scene just appeared.

The guards, who were facing a serious enemy, suddenly put down their guns and pointed at an airship in the distance.

"That model has enough power and can fly there in two days."

"Thank you."

Sherlock adjusted the brim of his hat and walked towards the airship.

Two days later.

The ancient city of Faestra may be the city in the entire empire that caters most to festivals at this stage.

This imperial capital has been known for its coldness over the past few centuries. It is like a machine that never stops. It never participates in any festivals, not even a New Year holiday.

But today, the whole city is decorated extremely gorgeously, and even many tourists come here to participate in the parade and celebration.

The reason is mostly because today the ancient Roman city of France is open to the public, and not only does it have various celebration activities, but it is also completely free.

"Master, the carriage outside is ready."

Inside the Emperor's residence, Moran pushed open the door of the study and reported.

When she saw her master in the house, she couldn't help but be stunned for a moment, because she hadn't seen Moriarty wearing such gorgeous clothes for many years.

The royal robe, the crown, and the scepter symbolize absolute power.

These symbols of dignity that had always been thrown into the corner were now all worn by the man in front of him, and Moriarty smiled, as if today was the moment when he truly ascended the throne.

(End of this chapter)