I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 81 Sulochana
Saturday night.

The beautifully dressed Huayue finally struggled out of the prison of the filthy dark clouds and villains. She tried her best to push away the thick black clouds that rushed towards her, and danced in the empty night sky to her heart's content, swaying bright silver light.

The light of the silver moon fell on the supposedly remote St. Artemis Church Hospital. This long-abandoned hospital relied on the signboard of free free clinics, and spread rapidly among the poor through word of mouth. The speed is comparable to Flu virus.

The number of patients who came for consultation every Saturday only increased, and Winfreys Morgan was sweating profusely. If he hadn't been supported by the vigorous vitality of the mind, he might have died suddenly on the desk.

At this moment, the St. Artemis Hospital has become more and more lively and has become more and more large-scale. Some small newspapers are suffering from nowhere to find articles. After learning about this, they immediately dispatched their cheap labor who claimed to be the uncrowned king to this place. A church hospital that has been abandoned for a long time for unknown reasons.

They showed their identities as so-called newspaper reporters, trying to bypass the orderly queue and directly meet the free clinic doctor at the end. However, this behavior of disturbing the order of the scene will only arouse the anger of the lower-level people who came to the scene to line up. They shouted and complained loudly, and their shouting and cursing attracted the attention of patrolling volunteers.

As a result, these self-righteous uncrowned kings were all expelled from the arena by the burly volunteers holding oil lamps... Winfreys Morgan didn't know about these trivial matters, and his followers would not bother the leader because of these mundane things. Busy with the doctor.

And John H. Watson, who is sitting in the mysterious shedding club at the moment, sits opposite Stanford Leland Jr.

The timing of their arrival was not so coincidental. The first dance performance had already ended, and the second performance was still under preparation. At this moment, only the classical music of the accompaniment band reverberated in the quiet hall, with melodious and fresh tunes. On the vast prairie, the grassy breeze gently caresses my face, and I can hear the humming of the cows in my ears, which makes people unconsciously let go of their guards and reveal their true temperament.

And Watson seems to be the case. He seems calm on the surface and seems to be chatting with little Stanford, but the too frequent gestures of toasting and drinking reveal his true inner thoughts.

It should be noted that what is placed on their table is not a drink-like low-alcohol beer, but a high-alcohol single malt whiskey!
Little Stanford looked at Watson, who was drinking tons of whiskey. He didn't even add ice cubes, but just drank it bluntly, as if he was using booze to relieve his inner grief.

This is the first time he has seen his friend who he admires look so depressed and lonely, but it makes him feel a certain truth... It turns out that Watson is not an iron warrior, his heart is also made of flesh Yes, will also be sad because of setbacks.

He intends to dissuade him from slowing down his drinking, but after contacting him in the hospital during this period, he already knows that Watson's temperament is extremely self-reliant. If he uses untimely dissuasion, it will only lead to his inner desire to fight.

And what is the best way to communicate between men... It is alcohol, and only alcohol!Drunkenness can solve all the worries in the world!
Little Stanford Leland raised his wine glass and advised:

"Come on! Watson, let's have a drink and forget about Charlotte! She is really blind, and she fired our heroic Berkshire just because she was so disabled that she was not suitable for continuing to track criminals." Lu Goshawk, this is definitely the worst decision she has ever made in her life!"

Watson just toasted without saying a word, and then drank with his neck up. It seemed that he was still brooding about his dismissal.

During this time, little Stanford devoted himself to studying "Shocked!" written by Watson.Another case of rioting comparable to the explosion of the Congress was killed in the cradle! ", thinking that he has already scratched the surface of the deductive reasoning method, he is now carefully observing Watson's expression, thinking that his friend still has not let go.

It seemed that he was easily taken away as a female detective's assistant by that young man who was far inferior to him in ability and experience just because of his inconvenient legs... This incident hit him very hard.

Watson felt the burning sensation of tequila flowing down his throat, and felt that his esophagus seemed to be licked by flames... But this was born from the body of the slums in the [-]th century, this road that has not been destroyed by technology and cruelty Tongue, but taste the slight sweetness and fragrance like nectar from the highly alcoholic liquid that stimulates like flames.

The appearance of the cup draws the satisfaction of tongue and tongue from it, and the secret scriptures of the cup in the soul body are decrypted again, and the full secret scriptures flow down sweet juice, giving back the power and desire of the cup... But all of these were met The greedy moth in the skull plundered away.

The epileptic moth vibrates its scaled wings, digests the cup-phase juice it has just inhaled into its abdomen, and transforms it into the unique power of the moth's rule.

The mana leaked from the moth's form is like specks of scale powder, which fall into the perched mortal body during the flapping of wings, and the stomach and intestines wriggle like a sea, but it is not a stomach cramp, but a kind of joyful excitement.

This is not the first time that the forbidden power of the secret transmission of the cup has been cut off by the moth in the skull. The moth is extremely domineering when facing the cup, and it seems that it does not allow the boarding body to be tainted with the breath of the cup.

Whenever the cup phase tries to give back to enhance the sensitivity of the five senses and the power of gastrointestinal digestion, the moth phase will violently flap its wings in Watson's skull, swallowing the power of the cup phase and transforming it into a hidden power of transformation, making this earthly body in the world. Subtly transforming into something more ancient, something that existed in the world long before the birth of human beings.

Watson only felt that his sense of smell had become sensitive again, and he seemed to be able to sniff the specific composition of the wine in the middle glass.

He feels that even if there is a piece of fresh and hot raw meat from his compatriots on the table in front of him, he can easily swallow it in his stomach, absorb and digest every nutrient in it without wasting, and he doesn't need to worry about suffering from it. The curse-like epigastric virus disease.

He knew that he might still maintain a human skin, but the inner structure was gradually transforming in an inhuman direction.

But Watson's face remained calm, he just pretended to be lonely, and frequently raised his glass to drink up the spirits in the glass, as if he wanted to numb his inner sorrow with alcohol.

The little Stanford on the opposite side is still veiled to persuade himself, but he is still unable to reveal the real situation to him - Miss Charlotte Holmes dismissed her, in fact, it was just a temporary measure, so as to distinguish the boundaries in the eyes of outsiders, So that the Winfreys gang will not be repelled by the appearance of his detective assistant.

In order to be able to deceive Winfreys, Watson and Holmes must also deceive the people around them, whether it is the loyal old coachman Victor, the close friend Stanford, or the new anti-suppressant named X211. Bureau support staff... they only knew that a violent dispute had broken out between Watson and Holmes.

From X211's point of view, this is nothing more than a parting where there is no mutual conspiracy—Miss Charlotte Holmes, who swore to be irreconcilable with the disciples of Sichen, and Miss Charlotte Holmes, who pinned her hope of curing leg diseases on invisible techniques. John H. Watson...the pursuit and direction of the two are very different, they will only drift away, and they will even evolve into enemies in the future.Of course he didn't know that this was just a trick of the female detective and the assistant, let alone that he had unknowingly discovered the real difference between the detective and the assistant.

In Old Victor's view, Miss was always unwilling to believe Mr. Watson... He witnessed Miss grow from an innocent girl to the almost cold-blooded and suspicious appearance she is now.He didn't know if he should be happy about it?After all, Miss is now more and more similar to the temperament and character of Master when he was young.But he felt in his heart that he should feel sad about it. The young lady had lived a carefree life, why now she was reduced to a situation where she didn't want to trust anyone?Even Mr. Watson, who once risked his life to save her, has already been abandoned by the lady... I don't know when I will suffer such a fate?

But in the eyes of Stanford Jr., the main fault party in this dispute must be Charlotte Holmes!She sure was a fucking freak!He actually expelled Watson, who had saved his life, out of the house for the sake of a young and strong boy!What an ungrateful fellow! ! !
Thinking of this, Little Stanford Leland felt even more aggrieved for his friend. He downed a glass of whiskey and was about to continue drinking when he saw Watson holding the bottle to his mouth and drinking heavily. .

"Okay!" The little Stanford on the alcohol had lost his mind in a daze. He only felt that Watson's drinking gesture was extremely enjoyable!How could I let Watson drink alone?
"Waiter! Bring me another whiskey! No ice bucket, just plain whiskey!!!"

After pushing and changing glasses several times, Little Stanford was already drunk. He left the club with his arms around Watson's shoulders, staggering all the way, but he was still thinking about his friend's future in his heart, and he couldn't speak clearly. He said calmly: "Wo...Wo Sheng, don't worry, I will find another way out for you tomorrow!"

"I belch... I don't believe it. Is she the only detective in London, Charlotte Holmes? Are other private detectives really so useless?!"

"I heard recently that there is a Wakefield police inspector. He used to be the most powerful police detective in Scotland Yard. He has recently resigned and plans to switch to a private investigator. I will contact you tomorrow!!!"

"I believe... so, with Watson's ability, he will definitely be able to create a world in London! But... when the time comes, we will let Charlotte take a good look at what kind of brave woman she missed. General!"

Watson's eyes were also blurred. He shook his head and shouted: "Okay! Good...good brother! I will definitely not let you down!!!"

When Little Stanford got into the Leland family's carriage, he turned around like a stumbling drunk, walking around with a cane without knowing the direction, but he walked slowly to the back alley of the Shedding Club.

In this street full of gentle moonlight, a slender figure has long been waiting.

She is a bit petite, but the loose dark-colored thin woolen coat can't conceal her graceful figure. The little black hat with a round brim and the blond hair that slant like a waterfall seem to be brighter than the silver moon, and the white silk gloves set it off even more. She is dignified and elegant.

When she saw a drunk who seemed to be confused and didn't know the way to break into this place, she showed a very friendly and gentle smile, her plump peach cheeks revealed shallow dimples, and emerald green eyes shone in her clear eyes. Faint light.

She folded her hands in front of her lower abdomen, as if she had been waiting here for a long time.

"Mr. Watson, good evening." Mary Morstan bowed slightly.

Watson also immediately regained his eyesight. The seemingly violent whiskey offensive just now was like clear water to him who was gradually transformed by moths. The alcohol had already evaporated in the pores of his body surface, so he smelled like alcohol the taste of.

"Good evening, Miss Mary." Watson said as he gradually approached, and he walked side by side with Mary Morstan into the back door of the Shedding Club, which was supposed to be closed.

The backstage of the club was much noisier than the front hall. Dozens of dancers passed through it. The club manager had already been waiting at the door. He welcomed him, "Mr. John, I have been waiting for you for a long time."

He led Watson up the previously guarded steps, all the way up to the top floor, and pushed open the thick and simple door. Here is a boudoir full of exotic styles, filled with Indian-style decorations, and the glass windows are hollowed out in the shape of honeycombs. The moonlight poured in from the outside, and the whole boudoir was shrouded in blurred light.

In the depths of the boudoir is a bright red curtain, in which stands a dark and unworldly figure, burning a cigarette with a unique smell of imported cloves at his fingertips.

Watson's vision of the moth that was running all the time suddenly went out. The moth in his skull seemed to have witnessed something extremely terrifying. He retracted his scales and curled up in the depths of his soul, preventing him from seeing the true face of the person behind the scenes with his unique vision. .

Agdistis, the club manager, said humbly: "Miss Sulochana, as you ordered, I have brought John H. Watson."

"Ah."

A slightly hoarse but magnetic voice came from behind the bright red curtain, and a Tianzhu woman with beautiful facial features came out from behind the curtain, her eyebrows were a little red and auspicious.

But Watson always felt that there seemed to be something wrong with the other party?It wasn't until a minute later that he realized that the owner of the Shedding Club didn't even blink her eyes!

Mary Morstan bowed her knees, and said respectfully to the proprietor of the shedding club:
"Teacher, this is Mr. Watson I mentioned to you."

(End of this chapter)