Chapter 8 Is it unreasonable to carry two guns with you?
The monster Lance slightly bowed his body, like a tiger accumulating strength before pounced on food, and opened its big mouth like a knife, intending to tear the two upright apes in front of him into pieces, and eat a hearty meal to fill his endless heart. of hunger.
Well... let's start with the female erectus with its thin skin and tender flesh that exudes a faint fragrance. The monster Lance stretched out his snake-like tongue to lick the remaining flesh on his fangs, and then rushed towards Holmes.
It suddenly pounced, moving as fast as a rabbit, so fast that Holmes had no time to dodge.
But no matter how fast it was, it couldn't move faster than those two deafening gunshots!
Monster Lance's dark eyeballs suddenly reflected two rapidly approaching projectiles, and then... its vision truly became pitch black.
This was the first time that the monster Lance had experienced such severe pain since he was born. He looked up to the sky and let out a shrill scream.
But the cry fell to Watson's ears like a spring cicada chirping in courtship.
His index finger pulled the trigger, his thumb pressed down on the hammer, and his feet slowly moved closer. His movements were smooth and handsome, just like a Western samurai on the other side of the ocean performing an American-style Iai in the sunset.
Colt's gun fired fireworks one after another, and all the .45-caliber projectiles shot into the eyes of the monster Lance.
The blunt-tipped projectile easily shattered the glass body and rolled continuously inside the monster Lance's skull, forming a large cavity and stirring the turbid brain into a mess!
The nervous system was so severely damaged that the monster Lance kept retreating, shaking violently, and his muscles spasmed and twitched, as if he was suffering from epilepsy.
But even so, it still didn't fall!
He just staggered around like a zombie, roared with unknown meaning from his mouth, and waved his arms randomly in the air.
Watson picked up a chair next to him and threw it at the unconscious monster Lance, causing the wooden chair to shatter.
He picked up a vase, a lamp, a low table, a small cabinet... and threw them at the dying monster until it fell to the ground and stopped moving.
Watson was still a little uneasy, so he took a thick-edged kitchen knife from the kitchen of Lance's house, chopped it several times, and completely cut off the monster Lance's head.
Then he panted and slumped down to the only clean corner of the sofa next to him, sitting on the same seat as the corpse of what seemed to be Lance's wife.
Holmes was dumbfounded when he witnessed Watson's series of atrocities. He didn't expect that the veteran officer he had recruited was so powerful. Even with a broken left arm, he could actually cut off the monster's head!
That terrifying monster Lance, except for the sudden attack at the beginning, which gave him a slight upper hand, could not last three rounds under Watson's hand. He was like a guinea pig in the laboratory and became a fish on the knife. He could only be passive. Accept the fate of being beheaded.
It seems that Watson has more potential to commit serial murders than a detective assistant...
Watson saw the female detective staring at him with a strange expression on his face, thinking that she was questioning why he was still hiding a pistol, so he spread his hands and explained:
"As a weak and helpless gunman with handicapped legs, it is reasonable for me to carry a second gun with me in case of emergencies."
Then he noticed that the female detective glanced at Lance's head on the ground, and quickly added:
"Look at how brave he was just now. He was shot several times and it seemed like he just suffered a little skin trauma. His vitality is really amazing! In order to prevent it from just pretending to be in suspended animation like a hibernating snake, I could only work hard to kill it. It’s logical and reasonable to completely cut off his head, right?”
After Watson finished speaking, he seemed to be aware of the nonsensical humor in his words and burst out laughing.
But he does derive pleasure from it. Killing always makes him feel relaxed and comfortable. It may sound a little perverted, but this is also an old problem of his...
Holmes glanced at him suspiciously, and tentatively believed it. After all, Watson helped her escape from the threat of the monster Lance... although the method in the process was slightly cruel.
She couldn't help but feel a little scared when she recalled the scene just now.
Holmes thought in his heart: "I thought that after getting along with each other for a month, I knew Watson relatively well. I didn't expect that under his gentle appearance, he also hid such a ferocious side - when he cut off the monster's After being killed, he was still able to sit in a pool of blood and make jokes as if nothing happened!"
"When Watson cut off Lance's head, I didn't see any emotion on his face at all. There was only coldness and indifference in his eyes. Perhaps for him, cutting off the enemy's head was as natural as breathing. "
"Although I have also had the behavior of whipping corpses that is not understood by ordinary people, it was purely for scientific research, but Watson...he is more like a professional and ruthless killing machine."
She secretly glanced at Watson, who was loading bullets with one hand with a calm expression. If it weren't for his slightly pale face and the beads of sweat on his forehead, she wouldn't have been able to tell that his left arm was broken in the battle just now. Such a perseverance is really impressive. Attention.
"Is this a stress sequelae left by the war, or is his nature so cold?"
Holmes hoped the answer was the former, but she still couldn't help but think about the worst... Watson, even though he was disabled, could play with ferocious monsters at the mercy of applause. If his limbs were intact, with his extraordinary marksmanship , wisdom that is no less than mine, and strong willpower... Once out of control, it will lead to catastrophe!
The female detective suddenly felt a tangle of complex emotions, either vigilance, wariness, pity or love, that even she herself could not distinguish... In short, she secretly made up her mind: "I must discipline Watson well. Lest he go astray!"
She said: "You take a rest for a while. I'll go down and ask Victor to notify the people at Scotland Yard. You protect the scene."
Watson tore off his shirt sleeve and used it as a bandage to wrap around the wound, "Don't worry, I'm here to watch."
After Holmes went downstairs, Watson moved his wrists that were shaking slightly due to excessive exertion, looked at the curled kitchen knife on the ground, and thought to himself: "The bones are so hard, this Lance is like steel bars! What happened? Will you, an ordinary patrolman, be transformed into such a powerful and weird creature?"
Watson felt something hard under the seat cushion, as if there was some hard object hidden there. He reached out and fished out two heavy books.
One cover is as bright as blood, and one cover is as dull as gray.
They all have genuine leather covers, gorgeous packaging, and are stained with the mottled traces of time. They look like expensive items at first glance.
It was not something that Patrolman Lance, who lived in Audley's flat, would have owned. Instead, it was quite similar to the books left at the crime scene at No. 3 Garden Street, Lauriston.
"Is it something Lance brought back from the crime scene?"
Watson looked at the gray book, with the title written on the cover - "Si Chen Zhi Volume I"
"This weird name is similar to that pile of old books."
Watson thought of this - the corpse with unknown cause of death and the policeman who had become a deformed insect. The common connection between the two is No. 3 Garden Street, Lauriston, and these two weird books further strengthened this connection. deepen.
"Is it because of these books that Lance changed from an ordinary person to a monster with an insect head?"
Watson looked at the book in his hand, which seemed to be related to an extremely important clue... His fingers touched the leather cover, and suddenly he felt a touch that was difficult to describe in words. It was cold and delicate, not like tanned leather, but rather It looked like the body surface of some kind of cold-blooded animal, as if caressing the scales of a young snake that had just shed its skin.
Watson couldn't help but shudder, and the weird feeling in his fingers suddenly disappeared without a trace, as if it was just an illusion he had imagined in a daze.
This strange touch came so suddenly and fleetingly, making Watson shudder.
He immediately dropped the book in his hand, and by chance it landed next to Lance's head.
In the blind spot of Watson's field of vision, Lance's ferocious head suddenly opened two dark holes, and a soul-robbing scarlet light could be vaguely seen inside the skull.