I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 18 New Clues
The show is over.

The musicians ended the performance with a wonderful display of skills.

The dancers ended with a heartfelt bow.

The audience burst into thunderous applause as if waking up from a dream.

What's more, they were so excited that they jumped up from their seats, forced their way through the crowd and stumbled towards the exit, their faces haggard and pale, and their eyes seemed chaotic and lifeless.

But Watson is alright, except for the shock at the beginning of the performance, the follow-up dance looks mediocre in his eyes. It's not that the dancers are not graceful, and it's not that the later media have developed a taste, but that he lacks art. Cell Man.

Dances, music, paintings... and other things that require perceptual thinking to touch, perceive, and taste are no different from stones on the ground or green grass on the roadside in his eyes.

At least from the traces of being crushed on the grass, he can also deduce the number of soldiers and luggage who have set foot here before, but these literary and artistic things... Watson really doesn't understand.

Perhaps because of a different body now, the structure of the brain may also be different. Watson found that his imagination has become more and more abundant, and he often associates some inexplicable things... But these meaningless reveries and illusions, It's actually quite interesting.

While the attention of the rest of the audience, including Holmes, was on the stage, Watson wandered around with great interest.

Only then did he realize that as the performance progressed, the atmosphere in the venue gradually became frenzied. Everyone seemed to be obsessed with the dance that seemed to contain the power of moths. Even the bartender at the bar and the waiters in the venue all turned their eyes to Betting on the table.

Even Watson passed them without noticing, just staring at the dancer's figure obsessively.

Watson went to the toilet first, not because he was in a hurry, but because he was looking for other escape routes and exits out of a certain professional habit.

He found that a series of palm-sized glazed windows were innovatively set up in the toilets of the Shelter Club, which not only facilitated the circulation of air, but also prevented the entry and exit of malicious people.

He wanted to go to the backstage of the performance to find out, but was stopped by the sober staff.

He also found a hidden staircase leading to the upper floor, but it was a pity that two thin and capable security guards blocked the way and could not enter. Judging from the abnormal swelling on both sides of his waist, he must be equipped with firearms.

When he returned to his seat, the performance had just ended. Holmes, who had come back to his senses, looked at Watson who had just been seated, and asked in a low voice:

"Have you found anything unusual?"

Watson took a sip of his beer, looked aside, and said, "There is a staircase leading to the upper floor, but there are two security guards with guns, so I can't pass through quietly in my current situation."

In fact, it is not impossible, but Watson still has to create a disabled persona, which is not suitable for exposing his true strength in front of everyone, especially Sherlock Holmes.

While they were talking, Mr. Agdistis, the club manager who had just finished the performance, walked over slowly, and asked with a smile:
"What do you two think of the effect of this performance?"

Holmes gave a thumbs up, "It's wonderful! I didn't expect to find such a beautiful performance here. I will definitely come here often in the future!"

Agdistis bowed slightly, "Thank you for your appreciation, the praise of customers is the motivation for us to improve our performance."

He noticed that the disabled man on the side didn't answer.

"It seems that this gentleman is not satisfied with the performance. Is there any inappropriate performance?"

Watson smiled awkwardly, "It's not bad... probably because my appreciation is not enough, and I haven't been able to appreciate the beauty of it."

Agdistis put on a meaningful smile, "Oh...that's how it is."

Holmes got right to the point, "Mr. Agdistis, now that the show is over, can you tell us why we reserved the seats?"

"That's natural." The club manager said slowly: "The reason is very simple. The Duke of Holmes' family is a well-known aristocratic family in London. Our club has always hoped to get the attention and care of the upper-class aristocrats. The carriage with the family coat of arms hovered in front of the door, so I immediately told me about it, and I hurriedly vacated my seat and went outside to meet the two of you."

Holmes felt that this matter seemed to have a deeper meaning, but the other party's logic was generally smooth, and she stopped pursuing it, and instead asked the main point:
"Leaving aside this matter for the time being, do you know a man named Harris Boot, who should be a frequent visitor to your club."

"Mr. Harris..." Agdistis nodded, "You are right. He is indeed a frequent guest of our shop. If I remember correctly, he is also your cousin of Miss Holmes."

"Hehe, you guys are pretty well informed." Holmes smiled slightly, and then asked, "Have you heard anything about him recently? When was the last time he came?"

"Sorry, this involves the customer's privacy, I'm sorry I can't tell—"

Agdistis's voice came to an abrupt end, and a seemingly pensive look appeared on his handsome face, but Watson always felt that the other party seemed to be listening, like a bar waiter accepting an order from his ears.

The club manager suddenly changed his tune: "Since Miss Holmes is Mr. Harris' close cousin, it is not a leak of privacy. If you have any information you want to know, it's okay to ask."

"Did he show any abnormalities when he came here last time, or was there something particularly eye-catching?"

Hmm... Agdistis thought for a moment, but Watson looked more like listening attentively.

"The last time Mr. Harris came to our store was on Wednesday night last week. At that time, he came with two gentlemen with strange faces. I am ashamed to say that I accidentally heard Harris from the sidelines. According to some conversations with Mr. Harris, he seems to be planning to go to the dangerous East London to buy real estate. Although his two friends try to stop him, Mr. Harris seems to be determined to do so."

"East London..."

Sherlock Holmes frowned slightly, and couldn't help but feel a little worried... The eastern region is a thick shadow that cannot be ignored in the bright and beautiful city of London. It is full of dense row houses and narrow and deep alleys. immigrants attracted.

However, with the gradual depression of local industries and manufacturing, these passionate immigrants have gradually become cheap labor in sweatshops exploited by capitalists.

They are crowded in low-cost housing with dim light, dirty air, and extremely poor living conditions, just like cattle and horses in pens.

Dirty cows and horses gathered in groups to form the largest slum in the City of London.

But poverty and misery do not breed pure goodness, on the contrary they are an excellent breeding ground for evil.

Scotland Yard's police force is extremely insufficient, and it is really difficult to control East London, which has extremely complex terrain, population and culture. Gradually, it has become a lawless place, and it is also the area with the highest crime rate in London!

All kinds of gang members are entrenched here, fighting for interests all day long, and the streets are red with blood...Harris, a son of a rich family who was pampered and pampered since childhood, stepped into East London, just like a fat sheep walking into a hungry city by itself. Wolves!

"Thank you, do you know exactly where Harris plans to buy real estate?"

Agdistis shook his head lightly, "I'm very sorry, I don't know much about this part."

"All right……"

Having detected the next clue and the performance was over, Holmes got up straight away.

"Let's go, Watson, before it's too late, let's hurry up and go to East London."

Watson lifted his cane silently, nodded his thanks to the club manager who was waiting beside him, and followed the anxious female detective to leave.

Agdistis watched the carriage of the Duke of Holmes's family gradually go away and disappeared into the shadows at the end of the street, and then replied from the bottom of his heart:
"Boss, I have disclosed Harris' whereabouts to them according to your instructions."

A hoarse, lazy and magnetic female voice sounded in his head.

"Ah."

　Recently, I saw several book friends mention Moran Bookstore. In fact, this book originally set up the plot of this part, but after considering that it is too easy to get secret biography from the bookstore, meager worldly money can be exchanged for dangerous secrets. Knowledge... is really detrimental to the taste.

　　Moreover, the secret biography in this book has been added by the author to make it more dangerous and cause distortion. The control of the secret biography knowledge by the Anti-Suppression Bureau is bound to be more stringent.

　　Therefore, there will be no Moran Bookstore in this work in a short time
　　
　
(End of this chapter)