Chapter 20 The British Government from Heaven

  "No, you wouldn't do that, just by looking at your face, everyone can tell the relationship between you and Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

  MacArthur's expression was calm and serene, his left hand's fingers lightly tapping on the back of his right hand.

  "Are you reminding me that as his roommate, any death or disappearance under any circumstances would be used by the French media to write articles and thus affect my career?"

  Ludwig shook his head, "You've already said it, my strong point is that I have self-awareness - I don't think I'm that important, sir. On the contrary, I am so certain you won't move against me because I believe I am insignificant."

  "Oh?" MacRae said with interest, "Why?"

  "Politicians are just another kind of businessman, only doing things that will bring them a million profits, and I'm just too insignificant a person."

  She sneered and curled up the corner of her mouth: "Kill me, the risk and reward are completely disproportionate...... This doesn't seem like something you'd do."

  MacRae applauded appreciatively. "If it hadn't been for a thorough investigation, I wouldn't have believed you were only seventeen. But there are two points where you're wrong."

  "Oh?"

  "Firstly, you overestimated your own worth."

  "I've already humbled myself as much as I can, sir. Any lower and I'd be groveling in the dust..."

  "No, you're underestimating yourself. You don't know Sherlock well enough yet. You're the first person to make him this tense and on edge... maybe the last. Believe me, if you can't bring a positive influence into his life, then you have value in being eliminated."

  Ludwig: Ah, great fog! The only one who can get Sherlock Holmes' attention besides his loyal dog Watson is Irene Adler, the Queen!

  Miko, did you just ignore Queen Aileen directly?

  Although in the original work, Irene Adler and Mr. Holmes have few confrontations, Miss Adler married a lawyer after dumping the King of Bohemia, and the so-called ambiguity between her and Mr. Holmes was exaggerated by later generations.

  But... the high IQ girl cannon fodder loses to the loyal and silly uke's lines, it's so lovable! The moe feeling is so strong that I'm bleeding from my nose!

  So, Mai Ge, I strongly disagree with cutting Miss Ailin's scenes!

  Putting aside the fact that her brain hole is open and can't be stopped, our heroine Ludwig is still very noble and cold.

  At least when she pretended to listen seriously to what Mike had to say.

  "Secondly, you have underestimated my methods."

  MacArthur wore his usual calm and composed expression - as if he never had an uncalm or uncomposed moment.

  "I have at least a hundred ways to make you silently and completely disappear in the UK... When I say completely, I mean all records of your existence in this world."

  Ludwig felt his lips were a bit dry.

  Mom, I saw another nouveau riche. This nouveau riche is so extravagant that I feel inferior and can't even be friends with him...

  MacIvor's face relaxed into a pitying smile - the kind of pity that radiates from within, deep and profound, making Ludwig feel an overwhelming ache in his teeth.

  MacArthur, can you stop smiling at her like that? It's as if she's lost her parents and gone crazy.

  "And I let you leave unharmed because I found a greater value in you."

  Ludwig's brow furrowed even more - being found out by McTavish wasn't exactly a pleasant experience.

  "Men always need women to restrain them, just as every sharp sword needs a suitable scabbard... As the first person to get Sherlock's attention, I expect you to do more."

  “……”

  Ludwig stood there woodenly, his expression no longer charming in any way.

  Because in her heart, a thousand happy clay horses galloped silently by...

  In this world, apart from women, men also have another sheath, called bros...

  Brother, you really don't understand your younger brother's orientation at all.

  If one day you discover Mr. Holmes' scabbard is a man named John Watson...

  You will definitely cry to death...

  "...Go back and get along well with Sherlock, Miss Ludwig. I think your slightly higher-than-average IQ will make you understand my proposal."

  With that, MacRae held out his hand with an air of dignity:

  "It was a pleasure talking to you, I look forward to our next meeting."

  Not pleasant at all, really. Don't want to see you again, bye bye.

  Ludwig forced a smile and also extended his hand.

  But Macduff merely brushed against her fingertips before withdrawing his hand, matching Sherlock's chin-up arrogance when facing Scotland Yard.

  That's enough from you men of the Holmes family!

  ……

  Ludwig's mental activity under his forced smile:

  Mom, I think everyone here is too childish...

  The severity of chuunibyou is simply unbearable...

  Take me away...

  "Mr. Holmes?"

  No sooner had Ludwig returned to Baker Street than he was astonished to find Sherlock already back, sitting on the sofa watching a snippet of computer video.

  "Aren't you supposed to be cracking a case? How did you get back so soon?"

  Charlotte quickly shut down her computer.

  "A case without challenge... Where's my phone?"

  "Put it back in your pajama pocket."

  "Where did you go?"

  This time Ludwig was truly surprised.

  "I thought you'd see it at a glance."

  He tossed the laptop back onto the couch, lay down and rolled around on the soft cushions with his back to Ludwig, like a giant, hunched cat.

  Ludwig: ……I don't know why, but I think Mr. Holmes is being a bit arrogant today?

  It must be an illusion...

  "Jenny's fruit shop next to the bar, green mint liqueur, Madeleine cake... The liqueur in that bar often mixed with apple flavor..."

  He turned around and gave her a haughty glance, like a cat disdainfully looking at its master who didn't feed it.

  "It's obvious, I don't even need to take a look, I can guess it just by smelling it, you've made a wrong judgment."

  "Can you be any more childish, Mr. Holmes?"

  After finishing speaking, Sherlock rolled back into the depths of the sofa: "You weren't supposed to come back tonight."

  Ludwig hesitated for a moment and took out his slippers from the shoe rack.

  "Uh-huh."

  "But you're back, why? The man who hit on you is over six feet tall, with chestnut hair, and the only man who fits that description and can have a pleasant conversation with you is the owner of the coffee shop across the street - did you reject him? No..."

  He gave Ludwig a sharp glance and made up his mind.

  "It's him who refused you."

  Ludwig was too lazy to care when Sherlock saw her and Eris having a great conversation.

  Mr. Holmes knows everything, doesn't he?

  This was her first hero, Holmes brought her an unimaginable shock about high IQ.

  She can tolerate ugliness for a long time, she can tolerate poverty, but she cannot tolerate others saying that she is not intelligent.

  And all these biased views are from which illustrated book?

  "The Complete Sherlock Holmes" brought her.

  And so, faced with Sherlock's reasoning that was almost rude and intrusive, she didn't feel offended, nor did she need to be tolerant.

  Because she felt close to her.

  In this world of Holmes, isn't the most prominent embodiment of homesickness Holmes himself?

  She bowed her head and smiled, arranging her shoes neatly on the shoe rack.

  Then——

  "Mr. Holmes?"

  Sherlock proudly said, "Hmph."

  "Have you taken off your shoes?"

  "…Vichy, I've been expecting that every day when you come back and talk to me, your first sentence would be more interesting."

  "That's true." Ludwig nodded: "If the first thing you did every day when you came back wasn't so lacking in novelty."

  Ludwig carried a bag towards the kitchen counter.

  She opened the storage cabinet and wanted to take out a jar of jam from it.

  Then——

  "Mr. Holmes?"

  Sherlock slumped further into the sofa, looking a bit annoyed, and Ludwig thought this was probably because he had nothing to do again.

  From Ludwig's point of view, half his body had already merged with the sofa.

  "Oh, Vishy." Before Ludwig could say a word, he quickly said, "I've already taken care of the eyeball in the jam jar. The jam jar has been disinfected, not with corpse decomposition agent, it can be used."

  Ludwig stared at him in surprise, "You actually have such a moment of self-awareness? --- Actually, I've already gotten used to the eyeball thing, just now I was just asking if you wanted to eat cake."

  After a while, Ludwig finally heard a sentence coming from the depths of the sofa: "Is that so?"

  "Are you going to eat the cake?... By the way, what's wrong with your reasoning ability today? Such a low-level mistake isn't like you - I had already opened the cabinet before I spoke."

  Sherlock sat up, his expression coldly sweeping across the living room.

  "Why is the carpet such an odd color?"

  "It's always been like this."

  "No, Vichy, you haven't vacuumed for three days, I think it's because you've been in a funk for the past three days and your funk is due to indecision about whether to leave now for Greece and your desire to go to Greece stems from an agreement, weighing between your terrible financial situation and the agreement..."

  "I now know your reasoning ability is fine."

  Ludwig cut him off expressionlessly:

  "So, do you want to eat cake?"

  This is the cake I risked being shot at to get back!

  Now you guys understand how poor I am ~t_t~

  Sherlock calmly turned his face over:

  "Have you released the wine? I personally prefer sweet grape wine without carbon dioxide, I personally prefer the specific gravity of sugar and honey not to exceed... Where are you going?"

  Ludwig quietly carried two boxes of cake and a bottle of red wine towards the room.

  "I personally think it's better if you don't eat."

  Two seconds passed.

  "Really?"

  "What's wrong?"

  "Did you meet anyone else today besides going to the bar?"

  Sherlock reopened his computer, his eyes bathed in the blue glow reflected from the screen, like a sapphire gemstone with a grey undertone.

  He stared at the computer, but his peripheral vision caught every tiny movement of the woman in front of him like a camera.

  Ludwig's hand rested on the door handle of the room, his head slightly tilted, and he smiled.

  "Where did I go?"

  Her tone was light and casual, with a hint of nonchalance.

  "No, I didn't plan on going anywhere else."