48 Hours a Day

Holmes describes the case from beginning to end in as brief a language as possible, and of course, the skilful text is far less complex than the real events, whether it be Father Jacob and Jack the Ripper, or Jack the Ripper and the victimized goblins, whose relationship is probably more complicated than the world can ever know.

Unfortunately, with Father Jacob's knife, it is very difficult to get any more accurate answers to these questions.

In any event, the case was concluded satisfactorily.

This is already the best result compared to the series of headless cases in real time and space seven years later.

Holmes stretched out a lazy waist, to Zhang Hengdao, "You won this bet. Although the process is a little risky, it's undeniable that you did find the killer one step ahead of me, and now you can execute the privilege of the winner and start picking out the opera to watch at night. ”

“Really,” asked Zhang Heng, "but why do I always have the feeling that this time you didn't do everything you could to make me do it intentionally? ”

“Who knows, you seem to have some hard reason to beat me once.” Holmes laughed, "but I did take it very seriously this time, after all, solving the case was my interest, just like people who liked food saw a roasted turkey in front of themselves, and you had a hard time not moving the fork. ”

…………

270 days seemed long, but for Zhang Heng, who was learning new knowledge every day, it seemed like a blink of an eye. After the serial killings in White Church District, he and Holmes went through a dozen more cases, big and small, together.

There are some bizarre stories that, if written, could replace Conandor as the greatest detective novelist of Victorian times. By the end of the year, Zhang Heng himself had started working independently. His forensic skills had reached LV2, followed closely by makeup. In addition, he had asked Irene Adler for some performance knowledge, but the art appreciation remained LV0.

Other than that, he never found the shadow of the prop in this copy.

Until the last day, Zhang Heng and Holmes went on an appointment to see an equestrian performance, after which they wandered along the Thames River, from contemporary violin artists to 18th-century Nassau pirates.

Holmes was amazed at Zhang Heng's knowledge of Nassau, after which they walked into a small tavern by the road.

It's not far from the pier, so many sailors are drinking and playing cards here, making it seem lively.

Holmes' old problem again, pointing to a man with a mustache on his left hand side of the table, said, "Scotsman, has many brothers, graduated from Edinburgh University, has been a boat doctor, has been to West Africa, loves to write, plays crossword games well. ”

“Oh, this time we don't have to compete anymore, I'll ask you directly.” Zhang Heng still has more than a dozen pounds on him, which is probably hard to spend before he leaves, and naturally he doesn't mind asking Holmes again.

“That would be great.” The latter said to the bar owner, "two beers first. ”

Just as the two of them found a seat to sit down and wait for a beer, the Yagami man playing crossword at the other table walked over with the newspaper and said, “Mr. Sherlock Holmes and his Eastern roommate, Mr. Heng Zhang, didn't expect to meet you here. ”

“Your Excellency knows us?” Holmes raised his eyebrows.

“Of course, you two are the most famous detectives in London right now," laughed the crap out of you, "can I sit here? ”

“Please, it's more interesting to have more than one person drinking," Holmes said, "without asking for your name? ”

“Doyle, Arthur Conan Doyle.” Somebody reach out, passionate.

Holmes had an accident, shook his hand and turned to Zhang Hengdao, "Is he the friend you mentioned before? ”

When he saw Zhang Heng hearing the name, he was more surprised by the expression on his face than he was.

“Don't be weird, we're actually meeting for the first time.” Conan Doyle explained, "Before that, we were all connected by words. ”

“Text contact, is that a letter?” Holmes frowned.

“Sort of.” Conan Doyle, after a pause, went on to say, "When I came, I heard there was an interesting case over at Central Garden, and a lady fell on the floor and woke up and found her wallet and other jewellery, but only her earrings were missing, why don't you go look somewhere? ”

“Sounds like fun, finally something to do after all this time.” Holmes's eyes flashed with excitement, and he seemed to have forgotten Zhang Heng on the other side, picked up his cane and walked out of the tavern.

Then the boss brought up two beers and Conan Doyle took one of them and sighed, "Thank goodness the guy finally walked away, otherwise I'm not sure he'd see anything with his perverted observation... you know, I created Holmes for a prototype based on a teacher I knew when I was in college, the way he taught and consulted, the way I could tell you where you came from, what your profession was, and it was a huge shock to me, and I've been thinking, if he was a detective, he would definitely turn this business into an accurate science.

“Of course, Ellen Poe and Emile Gaborio inspired me a lot. The big detective Dubin under Poe has always been my childhood hero, and I was inspired by the way the rings of Gaborio interact. That's how the writer's business works. Generations affect generations, like fireworks. You can always find the veins of the past by reading the works of modern people. ”

Conan Doyle said while sipping a beer, and said to Zhang Hengdao, "You should try it, you have a few hours left to finish this round, it's not easy to go back to London at the end of the 19th century for a sip of beer. ”

“Who the hell is Your Excellency?” Zhang Heng finally opened his mouth at this time.

“Who am I?” Conan Doyle has a smile on his face, "I'm the names you're familiar with, I'm William Shakespeare, Alexander Zhongma, Arthur Conan Doyle, Neil Gaiman, and George Raymond Richard Martin. ”

“Novel god?” Zhang Heng picked out the eyebrows and drank the beer from the glass.

“This understanding is not inevitable.” Conan Doyle punched a finger.

Zhang Heng thought about the Celtic ancient god he had met in the Black Sail replica before, the mystery man who called himself Einstein at the Apollo program camp, and the novel god in front of him. He realized something from it, frowned, “So is there a related god behind each replica? ”

“You have a keen insight, just like your roommate Holmes.” Conan Doyle appreciates, "As you can see, all copies are bidirectional, and you get game props, points, skills, and we can also look at you and find the right agent, and you have [infinite blocks] on you, so it should also be well understood that the stronger the player is not to us, the better, and the more compatibility is considered, which is a complicated thing, and you have to weigh all aspects and finally make the choices that are best for you, while the recruiting agent also has to obtain the consent of the recruitee. ”

“You want to recruit me as your agent? ”

“Well, theoretically, it's only when I want to recruit someone to represent me that I'll show up in front of him before the end of the copy, but you're the exception," Conan Doyle pointed to the watch on Zhang Heng's right hand, "you've chosen your camp, haven't you? ”

“Then why did you come before me?” Zhang Heng asked, while secretly sticking his finger in his pocket and holding the knife there.

“Relax, I don't mean you any harm," Conan Doyle shrugged, "on the contrary, there are plenty of sources between you and me. ”

“Origin? ”

“I noticed you were recently exploring yourself,” Conan Doyle sipped the beer out of his glass, then hit a satisfied hiccup, stood up, "and the day you found the answer, you would thank us for this meeting today. ”

“Wait, you know who I am? ”

Conan Doyle doesn't go on about it anymore, he just shows a profound smile, "We'll see each other again, just like the hero in all the stories has to make the final choice, and then you have to make your own. ”

After he put down the empty glass in his hand, Zhang Heng tried to catch up, but found his body unable to move. He could only watch the other party shake out of the pub. His eyes eventually fell on the newspaper that had been left behind, with a small raised position in the middle.

Zhang Heng opened the newspaper, and below is the pen that Conan Doyle used to play crossword games.