Chapter 85 Cup Moth

Chapter 85 Cup Moth

Chapter 85 Cup→Moth

Back to the night three days ago, Watson and Stanford Jr. drank until late at night.

Little Stanford may have felt guilty for concealing the news about Winfrey, and stubbornly insisted on sending his friend back to the apartment downstairs.

Therefore, after leaving the Shedding Club tonight, Watson did not take the time to go to the back alley of the club to meet Mary Morstan... Perhaps it should be called a tryst? Or a date?

But Watson knew that he and Mary were not in love. Although he had never tasted the sweetness of love in his memory, he had been exposed to relevant training and knew how to capture male or female targets in a short period of time. of adoration.

Even when he examined the memories of the original Watson and analyzed the old Watson's love experience frame by frame, he did not find a similar pounding feeling in his heart.

The purpose of his meeting with Mary Morstan was actually very pure.

First, in order to relieve the inner restlessness, everyone is a mothman embarking on the so-called path of transformation. When the two of them are alone, the moths in each other's skulls seem to echo each other from a distance, fluttering in the waking world... This seems to be possible. Gaining a certain sense of tranquility and comfort relieved both of their desires.

The second is to establish a good relationship with Mary and her mysterious mentor Sulochana Amovashe... Watson once conducted an investigation into the Shedding Club. This mysterious club that should have been attacked by the Anti-Suppression Bureau was actually It has been open in the foggy city for a long time.

Through interviews with the elderly residents nearby, we learned that this magnificent club has actually existed as long as they can remember, but the owner of the club is an obscure figure who rarely appears in public, so Little is known about the true identity of the club’s owner.

Regarding this long-standing stripping club, and the identity of the mysterious Sulochana Amovashe... Watson suddenly thought of a bold inference in his heart. This seemingly illogical idea may have come from inside his head. Moth's Guidance.

Watson believes that this Ms. Sulochana Amovashe... is very likely to have been walking in the world as early as the establishment of the Shedding Club, and has maintained her youthful beauty activities to this day.

As for why the other party still looks young after so many years... Watson speculates that this mysterious lady may be the immortal that Victor Little revealed in secret! A powerful existence that has long since shed its mortal body!

Watson had also previously asked Mary how she embarked on the path of secret communication and met Ms. Sulochana, the owner of the Slaughter Club.

At that time, Mary tilted her head and looked at him with big watery eyes, "Hey, why did Mr. Watson suddenly think of asking this?"

"It's just out of curiosity. If it's not convenient to reveal it, forget it."

"There's nothing inconvenient to disclose..."

"I once learned the secret of thunder through contact with my father's relics. At that time, I came to this city alone, trying to lurk and investigate the clues about my father's disappearance. I relied on my dancing skills since childhood to find a dance performance job at the Jubilation Theater. Work……"

"After a performance, my mentor came backstage and offered me an olive branch. She believed that I had a unique talent and that I should delve deeper into the original dance and move to more ancient beats."

"I agreed because I could feel that there was some kind of mysterious and dazzling magic power in the mentor's never-extinguishing eyes... It was a power very similar to the secret I could see from my father's relics... Through this, I I became a disciple of my mentor and embarked on the path of transformation under her guidance.”

"So Mr. Watson, how did you end up on this path?"

He didn't hide much at the time. He described in detail that after he killed the deformed patrolman, he was tempted by forbidden books and thus embarked on the path of the moth. He just concealed the deeds of the woodland moth... Since Sulochana was then The lady did not directly explain this matter, which shows that there may be some secret involved, so he naturally did not reveal it.

Watson recovered his thoughts, turned the door lock and entered the apartment.

With the wanton eating and drinking during this period, the desire of the mouth and tongue caused by the cup sign has been greatly satisfied, and the cup sign composed of full fruit scriptures inside the soul body is almost complete... only the last cup sign is left. The secret scriptures have not yet been deciphered.

Watson had a vague feeling that conveying the secret of the cup to the final touch of perfection might not be something that could be solved simply by fine whiskey and luxurious French cuisine.

He needed to taste something deeper that would touch his heart...but what dish should it be? Do you need to taste barbecue as plump as Harris's again? !

He took off his clothes that smelled of alcohol and threw them on the ground. The body that was increasingly transformed due to the secret transmission of the moth seemed to have a magical power that was unmatched by the mortal body. The alcohol remaining in his body was excreted with sweat just by thinking about it.

He drank a glass of water to cleanse his mouth, lay on his back on the bed, his consciousness was immersed in sleep, his mind was idle and he let his instincts go... A certain delicious taste that only existed in the fading memories of the past came to his heart, and the taste mixed with the beautiful memories of the past made him feel The cup in the soul body couldn't help but move.

Watson already knows where he needs to go to fill the final void in The Secret of the Cup.

…………

The next day, Watson took a taxi to the Chinese settlement in Limehouse District.

This is the port area located in the eastern part of Fog City. It is poor and dirty. It is surrounded by shipyards and shipbuilding factories. There are ships of all sizes docked on the shore.

However, most of the Chinese living in Britain in this era are gathered here. They are still a very small minority in the foggy city. Perhaps the total permanent population of the entire city is only less than a hundred.

Most of them were sailors who came with the ships, and some simply settled here, opening laundries and restaurants to serve the Chinese sailors who came with the British ships.

At this moment, Limehouse, the oldest Chinatown, has not yet taken shape, and the streets still look like British-style buildings. But the Chinese characters that can be seen everywhere, and the yellow-skinned faces that cast curious glances at Watson, all make him feel like he is there. The feeling of seeing an old friend in a foreign land.

He walked towards a middle-aged man sitting on a box on the roadside and asked in Mandarin: "Is there a Chinese restaurant near here?"

"Sorry, I can't speak English!" Facing this tall, burly white man dressed in upper-class clothes, the middle-aged man smiled politely, then turned around and shouted into the room:

"Hey Ah Qi, there is a ghost guy here. I can't understand what Ju is talking about. You come out and talk to Ju."

Sure enough, he is from Guangfu... Watson thought so and immediately changed the language:

"Uncle, don't worry. I'm wondering if there's any food nearby? I'm just like you and I've been looking around for a long time. I've been thinking about finding Cantonese food to eat. "Uncle, do you have any restaurant recommendations?" (Uncle, you don't have to call me. I want to ask you if there is a place to eat nearby. I just came back from your place not long ago. I'm craving for some food recently. I want to eat local food, do you have any restaurant recommendations?)

"Wow! You ghost guy speaks so authentically!" The middle-aged man exclaimed in surprise when he heard this Cantonese, which was more authentic than him.

"Let's get something to eat... There's a teahouse in front of us. Amei's gestures are the most authentic around here." The middle-aged man pointed to the river bank, where several ships were docking to unload their goods.

"Okay, it shouldn't be exposed."

Watson thanked him and walked back to the dock.

When he arrived at a two-story building surrounded by chicken pens on the river bank, he immediately smelled a strong smell of chicken feces.

But the chickens in the pen all looked very vigorous, clucking and flapping their wings as they tried to fly out of the pen. They were definitely not the broiler chickens of later generations that would walk no more than fifty meters from being born out of eggs to being served on the table.

He walked into a small restaurant with a signboard that read "teahouse". The menus in the store were all hung high on the wall. Steamed buns, noodles, rice, stir-fried vegetables, braised water... they were all large and flavorful foods, but the dishes There is also a dish hidden in the card that he has been thinking about for a long time.

Before Watson could wait for the waiter to call out SirCanIHelpYou, he shouted in a familiar voice: "Man, a whole portion of plain-cut chicken, steamed fish, and stir-fried vegetables. Serve it quickly."

Although the waiter was surprised at why the ghost guy's vernacular was so authentic, when he saw the coins the other party took out, he still replied honestly: "Okay, sir, please wait a moment."

It was not yet lunch time, the restaurant was very deserted, and the dishes were prepared quickly. Not long after, a sallow-faced woman in her twenties came out of the back kitchen carrying a tray and dishes.

Watson's sense of smell sensed the unfamiliar smell of ginger and onions, and his vision saw tender white chicken with golden skin, and a broken bone section with blood and marrow visible on the side of the meat slices... All kinds of familiar sensory information flooded into his brain. Even this body, which had never eaten Chinese food, was also affected by the spirit, and his mouth and tongue were unconsciously filled with saliva.

The female chef wearing an apron put down the dishes and said: "Sir, please use it slowly."

"Thank you!"

Watson could barely suppress the lusty look in his eyes. He picked up a piece of tender chicken dipped in ginger and scallion soy sauce and put it into his mouth, but he couldn't help but frown slightly.

He once tasted the craftsmanship of a state banquet-level chef, and the taste still remained in his memory. Now his sense of taste has been strengthened by secret transmission. As soon as he put the plain-cut chicken into his mouth, he immediately felt the detailed feedback from his taste buds.

Hmm...the chicken meat is not delicious enough, the heat is a little off, and the soy sauce tastes very light and not fragrant enough. It is almost equivalent to the soy sauce blended with technology in the future.

But, but! It is this flavor with flaws that makes it more inclined to my mother’s cooking skills!

The desperate and crazy child imprisoned in the depths of his mind suddenly burst into tears, and the tears fell and wet the blood-stained clothes. The blood stains that had been dry for many years seemed to begin to fade, and the violent and bloodthirsty desire to kill also seemed to begin to fade...

However, the child's dirty chest suddenly bulged with flesh. A big hand full of scars suddenly burst out of the body, grabbed his throat and said with a grin:

"Take back the tears, I... haven't had enough of killing yet!!!"

The tears were sobbed back again, the desire to kill returned again, and the scriptures of the Secret of Cups were able to fill in the last piece of the puzzle because of the pain and joy of the child.

The secret transmission of the First Order Cup has been completely decrypted!

The red cup overflowed with sweet liquid, vowing to saturate this mortal body with a cinnabar-like color... But the hungry moth in the skull had been waiting for a long time, and the moth let out a loud cheer and swooped down to catch it. Live in the cup shape that is running around, piercing the cup with its sharp mouthparts, greedily absorbing the secrets and power inside.

The cup shrank and withered like a slag, and the liquid as bright as blood filled the moth's abdomen, allowing the intracranial moth to once again break through the limits of its size.

A whisper suddenly sounded in Watson's head. It was definitely not a sound that could be produced by human organs. It was an ancient language that had been born long before the emergence of human civilization, but he was inexplicably able to understand its meaning.

"It is said that the cup was born from the first sacrifice, but the moth knew otherwise."

The next chapter will be late tomorrow. I want to think about how to write the second-level secret transmission exclusive to Moth.