Chapter 433 Finally found you
When the clock struck 8 o'clock for the curfew, the pedestrians on the street had already returned to their houses and sat down.
After the lessons of the previous six nights, they knew that the mayor's decree was no joke.
Those drunkards who were lucky enough to get away with it were now forced to work in the factory owned by the mayor's wife because they had no money to pay the fine.
Damn the mayor's wife, the factory under her name was only willing to pay 15 pence per person per day. They had to work for seven full days to pay off the fine from Scotland Yard and redeem their freedom.
But in the city of London, most citizens were not eligible to go home and lie comfortably on the sofa before eight o'clock.
In order not to violate the curfew, the low-level workers had to work all night in the factory. Fortunately, the boss was merciful and willing to pay the full night shift salary this time, otherwise these busy workers would have taken to the streets again!
But this resentful and dissatisfied mood has been brewing. If the mayor does not follow his promise - the curfew will only last for one week.
Instead, if he chooses to continue the curfew, the fire of riot is likely to burn actively!
Thinking of this, John Watson gradually quickened his pace and gradually moved away from the main city.
The effectiveness of the curfew will gradually weaken as the scope spreads. With the Thames as the boundary, London on the north bank is safe and strict.
But London on the south bank is not too affected by the curfew. The bustling streets are still calm, but the sparsely populated communities do not take the curfew seriously at all - I don’t believe that the idiots from Scotland Yard will come to patrol here at this time, and isn’t it a legitimate reason to make a living on the street? ? ?
The notorious bars in East London are also noisy all night. After all, our respected mayor only requires that we cannot wander on the streets between 8 pm and 5 am, but we stay in the bar during this time, and we don’t violate the curfew at all!
The more forbidden something is, the rarer it is, and the rarer it is, the more expensive it is. During the curfew, even the fees of prostitutes have increased a bit. After all, they have to risk being arrested if they are not careful!
John Watson raised his head inadvertently, and the heavily made-up white-faced woman in the alley was eagerly winking at him.
Looking at the face that was still frighteningly white even though it was hidden in the shadows, and the big mouth that was as red as pig blood, he could only gently shake his head to refuse.
Continue walking towards the increasingly quiet neighborhood.
John Watson actually lived in a small hotel on the east bank of the Thames recently.
The hotel owners are an elderly couple, but they were able to call out John Watson's name with surprise when they first met him.
It turned out that in the years that John Watson had forgotten, he had just retired and returned to his country and lived in this hotel for a period of time.
In order to recall his lost memories, he also lived there.
The innkeeper couple was a typical citizen, although they cursed when they learned that the mayor had issued a curfew.
But when night fell, it was the first inn on the street to close its doors - they were also afraid of the recent rumors about Jack the Ripper, and even more afraid of the seven terrifying monsters that were said to charge at the Capitol.
In order not to anger the innkeeper couple, John Watson could only use the excuse of drinking to help him sleep every night.
In fact, when the clock struck eight, he would sneak down the street.
Since leaving Woolsthorpe Lunatic Asylum, John Watson's memory has gradually recovered, and occasionally he will enter a battlefield of eternal fighting in his dreams.
Enemies holding snake-wrapped spears, enemies holding smoothbore rifles, enemies charging on horseback, enemies with hideous faces and no fear of pain... An endless stream of enemies flooded towards him like a tide, and he was always fighting, defending himself, and killing.
John Watson felt that these dreams might be the integration of fragments of his forgotten memories. The battles he had experienced in Fulstein were broken into fragments and then roughly blended together, which made the dream seem like an endless war.
Although he still couldn't recall specific information other than the battle, such as which unit he belonged to, which comrades he had, and how they got along with each other...
But the skills of fighting, those memories that were probably deeply engraved in the muscle instinct, recovered very quickly, just as he could easily climb from the third floor to the ground at this moment.
With his ten fingers firmly grasping the tiny gaps between the wall tiles, he could memorize any protrusion on the surface of the building that could be landed on without even careful observation, and he could land accurately with just a jump - his limbs were as flexible as an incredible machine, and he could complete it accurately as long as he entered a command.
There are many skills that should not be learned on the battlefield, such as how to find the blind spots of police patrols and how to hide one's own figure... It is with these skills that John Watson can easily avoid the sight of police officers, ignore the curfew, and roam in the empty streets.
But he is not wandering aimlessly just to feel the pleasure of freedom of challenging the curfew.
He has a clear destination - the street with many vacant and abandoned houses not far ahead.
John Watson took out the pocket watch in the inner pocket of his windbreaker and took a look. It was almost eleven o'clock.
It's almost time. He thought to himself.
John Watson touched the gun in his arms and took a deep breath. His restless heart seemed to calm down because of the cold air he inhaled.
He strode forward, but just after taking three steps, an arm stretched out from the shadow of the nearby alley and grabbed his arm tightly.
"This gentleman, this handsome gentleman, why are you walking alone on the street in the long night?"
"Such a cold winter, such a lonely night, I think you must be very lonely... Why don't you let me accompany you through this cold night?"
This is a gray-faced, thin lady without any makeup. She only wears a heavy men's windbreaker over her exposed clothes. Her thin body can't stop trembling in the cold wind at night.
"I'm cheap, just fifteen pence is enough--" the lady begged bitterly: "Fourteen pence is fine, how about thirteen pence?"
"Please, sir, I haven't eaten for two days. I can bear the hunger, but my child can't hold on any longer..."
"Please, I only need ten pence... I'm very clean." The lady said as she lifted the boy's windbreaker and was about to untie her belt.
With the top vision given by the artificial eye, John Watson could clearly see the bony bones and pale skin under the half-exposed clothes of the other party.
He didn't reply, but just took out a handful of coins and stuffed them into the other party's hand, then turned and left quickly.
Behind John Watson, the half-dressed lady tightly grasped the coins in her hand, tears of gratitude flowed from her dry eyes, and she kept bowing to the thin back.
"Thank you, sir! Thank you very much!"
"I will never forget your help - gurgle gurgle."
The words of gratitude stopped abruptly, and turned into the sound of blood gushing out.
John Watson turned around in horror and saw that the skinny lady had completely opened her clothes, exposing her chest with deep ribs, and a cruel and bloody gap had already appeared on her pale skin!
The exaggerated gap spread from the throat to the lady's pelvis, almost cutting the thin body in half!
A pair of arms stained with steaming blood stretched out from the torn chest, and roughly expanded the crack to a larger and wider size, wide enough to accommodate a person to drill out through this gap!
A creepy voice sounded muffled in the lady's body cavity.
"John Watson, I finally found you."