After the Gates of Hell were opened, the human race displayed the rare trait of 'unity', and the world was no longer divided into countries, but united as one empire.

And London...... is one of the few cities that still retains its original name.

Of course, it also retains the grayish hue that won't go away for the rest of the day.

Noon......

The term 'bright sun' had almost never existed here.

The entire underground of the city had been hollowed out to build those giant steam pipes and furnaces, and a group of highly respected Mechanical Yard madmen had dug through the Thames River and brought its water down into the depths of the earth in a continuous stream, and then cooked and burned it day and night, and every day thousands of tons of water vapor were released into the sky and then turned into acid rain to come down.

In the words of the old men called "scientists," this was considered recycling, so you never had to worry about the day when you couldn't burn the steam.

Of course, they said nothing about the dwindling number of trees.

But the citizens don't care about that, all they know is that this is London, with the largest and most advanced steam furnaces in the world, and the whole city is wrapped in mechanical pipes, and steam means productivity, which is certainly a source of pride.

If the air could be a little fresher, it would be even better.

At that moment, Sherlock was walking through this mechanical capital; he was riding in a cheap carriage that stopped every kilometer for only five pence, with a huge suitcase half a man's size at his feet, making the already spacious room seem even more crowded, and outside the window there was the noise of people, and sometimes there was the roar of factories and the sound of church bells in the distance.

In fact, sometimes he really couldn't understand people's thoughts.

For example, it was clear that these mechanical creations were becoming increasingly bulky and inefficient, but people still had boundless faith in them, believing that 'boiling water' could eventually save the world.

For example, it was clear that no matter how much they shouted, the road would never be clear, but almost everyone urged the car in front of them to go faster!

For example, it was clear that the uncle named Jack knew very well that being a killer was a sure way to no good end, but when he was about to arrest him, he still screamed strangely and swung his knife and stabbed him.

Sherlock was poor as hell, he just wanted to catch some murderers and make some money, what was wrong with him?

But old Jack did not cooperate at all, and treated him with such rough behavior, at that time Sherlock was scared, subconsciously grabbed the knife, and then disliked the whole thing with the blade and handle into the other party's waist.

Well......Good thing people have two waists, they can live if they dislike one ......

At least they can live for a while.

So, to save time on the way to the police station, Sherlock called for a special carriage, which also prevented the prisoner from losing a lot of blood and going into shock, or dying alive from pain or something like that.

He had always been so considerate, even with murderers.

......

At two thirty in the afternoon, the carriage stops at the main gate of Scotland Yard.

Scotland Yard" is actually an alternate name for the London Police, why it has such a name, Sherlock doesn't know, and he doesn't care, he just gets out of the carriage with the huge suitcase.

When he pays, the coachman inevitably looks at the case again.

Because it's really too big, and I don't know what all the things are inside, bulging, the weight almost broke the wooden handle, but the guest in front of him was carrying it, but couldn't see a hint of strain.

"Sir......Sir?!"

"Oh!" the coachman slowed down, "Sorry, that's25p in total."

Even the cheapest of fares became a considerable expense when the distance was added up, and Sherlock heartily took out a few coins and handed them over.

"May the Holy Light bless you," the coachman took the money and said habitually.

"The Holy Light has no time to bless me."

Sherlock replied breathlessly, then ignoring the surprised look of the coachman, walked straight towards the police hall, the tall and thin back and the box in his hand forming an extremely incongruous scene, the coachman watched in a daze, and for a moment he felt his eyes blurred, because he seemed to see something in the box twisting with difficulty.

......

Entering the police hall, the hustle and bustle and noise here is even more than on the streets, after the second demon invasion incident, London's law and order has not been good, murders, thefts, robberies, frequent occurrence in all directions, may be the citizens feel that even if they are at peace with themselves, they may one day be bitten to death by the mini-demons that burrowed out of the void rift on the streets, and so on and so forth, they have their revenge.

"Bastard, get out of the way!"

A burst of drinking and cursing came from the crowd, followed by a homeless man stumbling out of the crowd full of alcohol, his hands tied, obviously he had committed a crime.

At the same time, this brother must have drunk too much, or else he would not be delusional with a fat body, just rushed out of the police station; sure enough, the next second, a police officer pounced directly on him, the hand of the baton viciously poked into the armpit of the drunk man, accompanied by a burst of electric current sound, the prisoner convulsed, and the air more than a subtle smell of urine.

This situation was considered the norm in Scotland Yard, the surrounding police officers are completely unimpressed, but also took the opportunity to use the baton in their hands to dislike the prisoner next to them, signaling to be honest, or else they will also give you a blow.

"Damn bad luck."

The cop who had jumped the drunk stood up, shaking the urine stains that had stained his uniform, and subconsciously grumbled when he saw a reasonably well-dressed man standing next to him:

"I'm sorry, sir, the inmates haven't been very obedient lately......".

But halfway through, he froze violently.

Because he saw the other hand carrying a huge suitcase......He obviously recognized that suitcase, because his eyes flashed uncontrollably with a trace of panic, but still held a hint of happiness, like lifting his head ......

As his eyes moved upward, he also saw the other party's face and the eyes that never seemed to sleep.

At that moment, the face that had been fierce when he had just electrocuted the prisoner instantly became very well-behaved.

"Summer......Mr. Sherlock ......"

The voice was not loud, just a low hum in the throat.

However, the moment this name was uttered, the surrounding noise suddenly became much louder, and then there was a buzz, a buzz, a buzz, countless glances all over, which is also vaguely mixed with the sound of some backward cool air.

Sherlock did not care about the dissimilarity of the surrounding people, or he has long been accustomed to, just sleepily looked at the good policeman in front of him, will be in the hands of the big box passed forward said:

"No, a murderer, caught right at the scene, seems to be called Jack......Or Mike, anyway, you guys just go check the case.".

He spoke as if nothing had happened, and when the other didn't dare to take it, he simply let go with a flourish.

"Poof fork!" the sound.

The box hit the floor hard, like a pile of fat pork that had been filled with water, and some of the blood burst from the joints in the leather at the bottom of the box, frightening the people nearby into taking a few steps back.

"Is Commissioner Lestrade in his office?" he asked.

The officers in front of him didn't dare think much about it and nodded their heads.

Sherlock: "Thank you."

Since he had caught a criminal, he naturally had to go and talk to the Chief about the reward.

In fact, according to reason, when other people catch a criminal, there is no need to bother the commissioner so much, just look for the police office to register it, only Sherlock is an exception.

He walked to the outside of the crowd, the surroundings naturally gave way to a street, suddenly a policeman seemed to remember something and shouted:

"Mr. Sherlock, please.....Please stay."

"Hmm?"He turned his head back.

The man braced himself not to look away and squared his shoulders, "The director is receiving a very important guest at the moment, you...... better not disturb him for now."

"An important guest?"Sherlock thoughtfully, "Fine, I'll go ahead and wait for him in the reception room."

Through the quiet crowd, down a deserted corridor and into the elevator......

Although there is the word "electricity" in its name, its mode of operation is still basically based on steam, there is no way, even if electricity, no matter how fashionable it is, the scope of application is still too narrow, and it can only be reduced to a kind of companion of the times, just like those on the battlefields, trying to use the guns and cannons to defend themselves against the demons of the conservative veterans.

"Click~"

The lighter made a soft click, and the fragile flame trembled as it approached the cigarette, seemingly afraid and not daring to dodge it.

Just then......

"Wait a minute."

A soft whimper came from the corridor as a woman picked up her pace toward the elevator, lookingabout 25 years old and dressed in a somewhat strange nun's habit, no cumbersome long dresses or head scarves, instead everything changed to a shapely style that allowed for movement.

Sherlock let out a long puff of smoke, shrouding his entire face in a haze.

He didn't bother to press the elevator button..... and let the elevator doors close slowly.

"Time waits for no man, fair lady......"