I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 330 Artwork: Skull Tower

The little snowman carefully cut off the human-like tree burls and piled them into a pyramid-like hill. Then the straight birch branches curved weirdly into the snowball that symbolized the torso, and took out a ball of raging bears. Burning fire.

The flames first bloomed on the burl hill, until the burl burned into charred coal. Then the little snowman sprinkled a ball of snow powder on the red coal hill, completely extinguishing the remaining flames.

After being destroyed by fire and ice, these eighteen human-faced tree tumors miraculously transformed into some kind of turbid and translucent crystal.

It was eighteen turbid crystal skulls stacked in a tower-like shape.

A true work of art.

Even John Watson in his dream couldn't help but applaud the little snowman's artistic creation.

This is really a bizarre but interesting dream!
  ………………

Charlotte Holmes finally returned to Baker Street before nightfall.

On the way back, she had communicated repeatedly with members of the detective agency through the car's wireless telegraph machine, and had a preliminary understanding of the situation at the scene.

But no matter how carefully the inquiry was made, after all, it was only information obtained through the telegraph machine, information that had not yet been witnessed by one's own eyes... So even though the detective station had just been attacked, the female detective returned to this seemingly impregnable building without hesitation. A building that is actually full of flaws.

The horses' hooves were tapping and the wheels were turning.

The spacious carriage like a public bus finally stopped in front of the Sherlock Holmes Detective Agency.

The ugly iron-gray building in front of him was unscathed. Even the passers-by were chatting away as usual, seemingly unaffected by the attack on the detective. The residents of Baker Street had no idea about Holmes. The young lady's detective agency encountered a burglary at [-] noon, and she didn't know that the young lady who usually greeted them with a smile had died on the spot.

But in fact, not to mention these residents, and other logistics operators in the detective agency, they were not aware of the enemy invasion at that time, and they did not hear the incomplete screams of their colleagues before they died.

It wasn't until a colleague with a keen sense of smell smelled the rich and sweet smell leaking from the crack in the door of the data room that he called someone to break open the door of the data room.

As soon as they opened the door, they saw the female caretaker lying on her back on the floor between the bookshelves in the reference room.

Her eyes were closed and her face was peaceful, as if she was just sleeping, but her clothes had long been torn into strips of cloth, and her exposed body was already open - the blood line extended downward from her throat, and the separation spread to the ends of her limbs, and all the skin and flesh along the way The holes were split open, and the organs and bones were directly exposed to the air.

Charlotte saw the body of the database keeper with her own eyes, and a heavy look appeared on her brows again.

"Is there such a powerful enlightenment cultist in the professor's team?"

………………

Douglas took a hard puff on the mouth of his pipe and took a deep breath of smoke.

Although others reminded him that pipe smoking should not pass through the lungs, he just liked the feeling of inhaling the dry, hot and spicy tobacco breath directly into his lungs - such a strong stimulation could make his thinking particularly clear.

He slowly walked into the scene of this brutal murder, and at a glance he saw the bloody, fleshy, and body parts scattered all over the ground.

London in December was as cold as a natural cold storage, which preserved the fragmented flesh and blood at the scene. The black pool of blood smeared on the ground was as frozen as an ice mirror, reflecting the faces of the horrified people outside the smuggling warehouse. , and the pair of leather boots that stepped up slowly.

The Scotland Yard detective continued to suck on his pipe, squinting his eyes slightly in the smoke rising from the pipe stove - the smoke could confuse vision and hearing, but for Douglas, it could help him search for clues. He took a deep breath of thick smoke, and the gray smoke slowly drifted forward like solid fog, until it hit a tall obstacle before breaking and dissipating.

As the smoke filled the air, the eighteen crystal skulls piled up into a six-story tower seemed to be shining.

Douglas keenly discovered that there were several columns of smoke leaking out from behind the six-foot skull tower. He quickly walked to the back of the skull tower and saw the three crystal skulls facing the shadow side of the warehouse. There are holes nearly as thick as a little finger.

The detective reached out and touched the three holes without hesitation, and carefully rubbed the inner walls of the holes with his fingertips. Feeling the familiar roughness from his fingernails, he could immediately draw a conclusion.

"This is a fatal wound from a bullet."

"And such a large caliber has even surpassed the .[-]."

Douglas squinted his left eye and got closer to one of the crystal skulls. He looked into the eyes of the dead man who might have dominated the streets before he was alive - he saw similar bullet holes on the inner wall of the other person's skull.

"One shot penetrated the entire head and came out directly from the body."

"Such a terrifying power is not something that can be achieved by the firearms that are normally available on the market."

"Instead, it's more like the batch of firearms of unknown origin that have recently been circulated in the underground black market at low prices."

"Was this case committed by the mysterious seller behind that batch of powerful firearms? Or was it just a black market purchaser?"

Douglas continued to inhale a long puff of smoke, exhaling on the crystal skull tower full of abnormal artistic beauty. The turbid white smoke poured into the empty eye sockets, and then leaked out from the eye sockets of other skulls.

He looked at the shocking traces all over the ground and murmured to himself:
  "Eighteen extremely vicious gangsters were killed in just a few minutes, and their bodies were dismembered in a very short time."

"Isn't this case another masterpiece of those monsters?"

"So, you guys from the SB Bureau should have arrived at the scene long ago, right?"

A man wearing a black hat and a trench coat with a raised collar slowly walked out of the shadows. Facing the Scotland Yard detective's unhappy look of 'It's you again', he just smiled slightly and said: "Sorry, buddy. , this case belongs to our Anti-Suppression Bureau, and all your hard work has been in vain."

Douglas spat out a mouthful of dirty yellow phlegm, spit it on the bloody ground, and said angrily:
  "Why the hell are you idiots from the SB Bureau everywhere, especially you, Spencer! How many cases have you taken away from me in the past six months?!"

"Fake! No! I will never let you have this case today again!!!"

"Even if Inspector Grayson comes in person, I, Douglas, will never give in!!!"

Faced with the detective's toughness, Spencer, the special investigator of the Anti-Suppression Bureau, still smiled and said calmly: "Okay, no problem, then I'll leave this case to Douglas."

"As long as you can complete the investigation of this case on your own and find the hiding place of the real murderer, I will fulfill your last request and recommend you to join our Anti-Suppression Bureau."

Douglas didn't hesitate for a moment, directly grasped the other party's cold palm, and said with a smile:
  "Then it's settled!"

(End of this chapter)