I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 25 Watson You Lied to Me? !

Watson's eyes looked up, showing an expression of remembering.

"After I received the message from the Black Crow Gang in the early morning, I immediately took a taxi and rushed to the Black Crow Bar, where I met a skin worker who claimed to have seen a customer who was highly suspicious of Harris."

"After some enquiry, she told me that Harris probably lives near Whitechapel."

"Following this clue, I hitchhiked around Whitechapel. Perhaps it was God's blessing. I soon found a house that looked bright and brand-new."

Having said that, Watson raised his finger to the scene of the crackling and deflagrating fire. At this moment, the three fire engineers had already entered the courtyard, controlling the purely human-driven pumping device, spewing foamy water lines... just This weak amount of water poured into the raging sea of ​​fire really couldn't stir up any splashes.

Rather than extinguishing the fire, it is better to prevent the fire from spreading to other places and causing greater losses.

"This house is so beautiful that it doesn't look like it belongs to East London. When I think of Harris' background and his requirements for living environment, I suspect that this is his newly purchased property."

"At that time, the courtyard door was unlocked, so I went directly into the courtyard, and when I pressed into the door, I heard a bawdy sound, which confirmed my guess even more."

"At that time, I didn't even respond to knocking on the door several times, so I quietly walked to the window to check the situation inside the house."

Watson pointed to the broken window frame of the house, where fireworks were spewing out like the mouth of a dragon, but the soft grass under the window did have a line of trampled marks and six bullet casings scattered , can attest to his present and following rhetoric.

"Who knew this look—"

There was still lingering horror on Watson's face, but there seemed to be a trace of nausea mixed with it.

"I just saw Harris, who was completely unrecognizable and had four arms, lying on top of a certain lady!"

"His facial features mutated, his tongue split, and his chin grew a finger-like heteroplasia... I won't describe the details. In short, it was a disgusting and disgusting appearance, even worse than the previous Lance. Weird!"

"I immediately fired several shots and shot him in the back of the head. Seeing that he passed out immediately, I quickly opened the window and broke in, and carried out the group of ladies who were murdered by Harris."

Watson pointed to the seemingly unharmed but extremely slender skin workers.

"After I moved a few unconscious ladies to the courtyard, I planned to go back to investigate the situation, but I didn't expect that Harris, who was supposed to be dead, stood up again and rushed towards me as soon as I entered the door!"

"I have trouble with my hands and feet, and I was thrown to the ground by him when I couldn't dodge for a while... However, after he pressed me under him, he didn't continue to attack, but—"

When Watson said this, he lowered his voice, as if he didn't want to be heard by others. At the same time, he showed a certain expression of anger and chills, as if he had suffered a great shame, and said through gritted teeth:

"Harris actually started shaking on me!"

"I was so angry that I shot several times at him, the impact of the anger and the bullets made me break free from his restraint, and crawled out from under his huge body, but the blood spurting from his body also splashed all over me. "

"I originally wanted to pull out the door to seek help from other people, but then I thought about the dangers of these aberrant monsters that the Anti-Suppression Bureau once said. How could I allow unarmed civilians to participate in this battle!"

"As soon as I gritted my teeth and closed the door tightly, I thought of one thing at the time - even if I die today! I can't let Harris escape outside and endanger the common people in London!"

At this moment, Watson's eyes flashed with the determination to die resolutely, and the orange fire on the side shone on his face, as if he was glowing.

Charlotte also showed a solemn expression when she heard this, but there seemed to be other things shining in her eyes.

"Yes, Watson, you did the right thing." She seemed to agree, and then continued to ask, "What's next?"

"Later, I fought Harris in the house. Fortunately, Harris is huge and cumbersome. Even if I stagger on one foot, I can still deal with him by virtue of the complex terrain in the house."

"But Harris seems to have a little bit of wisdom left. He actually knows how to pick up furniture and use it as a weapon to hit me!"

Watson slapped his left leg indignantly, "If it weren't for my inflexible legs and feet, how could I be bullied by him like this!"

"After he gave birth to his second pair of arms, his strength was astonishing! Impressively he lifted a dining table weighing hundreds of kilograms and threw it at me!"

When Charlotte heard this, she seemed to be awed by Victor's amazing arm strength and danger in the story, showing a dignified expression.

"Fortunately, I was witty and crouched in time in the triangular area between the side of the fireplace and the wall. When the big dining table hit, even a corner of the fireplace was knocked."

"As soon as I crawled out from under the table, I saw Harris rushing towards me like a mad buffalo. Even though I shot him several times in the face, it was only barely offsetting the impact. Although I tried my best to dodge, I was still hit by his shoulder in the chest, and a mouthful of blood spewed out on the spot."

"But Harris' head also hit the wall, and he was dizzy like a concussion. I figured out that almost all the remaining bullets were tilted on his head, and he stopped moving."

"I think his vitality is several times stronger than that of Lance, so I immediately sprinkled strong wine on it and ignited it, using flames to hinder his regeneration."

Charlotte also breathed a sigh of relief for him when he heard this, but he didn't expect Watson to continue to say:
"However, even so, Harris was not dead yet. He was rolling on the ground with fire all over his body, and the grease dripping from under his body set the house ablaze. Knife, wanting to end his suffering as soon as possible."

"But because he kept rolling, my first cut was only on his belly, the blade was still stuck in it and he pulled the wound torn, so I took off the second cavalry knife. Chopped on his neck, finally decapitated him..."

After Watson finished speaking, he sighed again, grimacing as if the wound had been pulled on his face, and he took a sip of whiskey to numb the pain and heart.

"Sigh... I didn't expect that such a simple case of disappearance would involve such bizarre things." He said meaningfully, "This world is getting more and more chaotic."

"Let's not talk about that, I'll take you to the hospital for treatment first."

Regardless of the stench on Watson's body, Charlotte lifted Watson's right arm over his shoulder and walked slowly towards his carriage.

Victor, who had a keen eye, immediately stepped forward to help, and sent Mr. Watson, who had just left the hospital for only one day, back to the hospital.

That is to say, little Stanford is resting today, otherwise, seeing his friend return to the hospital so quickly, he might be persuaded to resign and stay away from the detective industry on the spot.

It was not until the sun set that Charlotte got into the carriage and left, but before leaving, she turned her head and glanced at the hospital with the cold eyes unique to detectives.

…………

At night, the burnt ruins.

The houses that had been beautiful during the day were now nothing but the creaking of charred beams, like the weathered skeleton of a corpse.

A luxurious carriage passed through the dark and gloomy street and stopped in front of the burnt house.

When the car door opened, a tall and slender figure came out. The figure stood in the bleak autumn wind, looking thoughtfully at the ruins in front of the door, struggled for a long time, and finally stepped forward to push open the withered door.

The groom in front of the car looked at the figure who was looking for the lamp in the precarious ruins, and he seemed to be sorry and puzzled, and he sighed silently.

"Miss, why are you doing this?"

"Don't you trust Mr. Watson?"

(End of this chapter)