Sherlock Holmes is not a warp god.

Chapter 107 The Immortal Mother

Mycroft is a meticulous person; he would call home at noon to let me know his estimated arrival time, with an error margin of no more than two minutes each time.

This makes it easier for Timothy to cook.

Dinner was easier for Timothy tonight, as she discovered that Floren, who came to help in the kitchen, seemed to be a better cook than her.

So he happily gave up his spot and watched as the Cthulhu-style Furen, with its many tentacles, showed off its skills in the kitchen.

With only the mother and son in the kitchen, Furen took the opportunity to say something: "Mother, I need to perform a ritual to enhance my fire abilities, and I'm still missing a piece of burnt lightning wood."

Unlike her sons, the elderly mother was a woman of many emotions. She was somewhat surprised by Fren's words, "Why do you want to learn [Fire]?"

"It's a professional requirement," Fren said.

Timothy nodded, then said, "There are reserves in the garden; I can exchange for a few."

"But you need to slow down a bit." Timothy looked at his equally outstanding son and sighed, "After your father and I returned from Slen City, we met an old friend."

You met him a few days ago; he was Mr. Alfred Hofstadter.

"He told us that your current ripple quality is very high, but the subspace is too vast," and that you need to pay attention to the stability of your consciousness.

Frey could understand his mother's words: there were many kinds of life in the warp, and they were life structures completely different from those in the real world.

Just like seeing maggots on a rotting body, it's normal for the maggots, but an ordinary person might vomit their dinner from the night before.

Spending too much time in the subspace can not only lead to getting lost, but also cause one's mind to be impacted by what one sees.

In short, it will cause your sanity value to drop.

Furen didn't care. He had seen those things in the warp, but he just regarded them as roadside objects.

"You've always been the most mature, and I trust you know what you're doing." In Timothy's view, of his three sons, Floren was the least troublesome.

While Floren was busy in the kitchen, Timothy went to the living room to continue watching TV.

She's been a housewife for half her life, but not because she loves it.

Timothy feels relaxed and happy to be able to hand over the kitchen to Fren.

At that moment, Wanda was sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard, holding Furen's pipe, admiring the sunset in the distance.

He had just said he didn't like smoking, but now he's taken apart an expensive cigar and stuffed it with tobacco.

Mycroft arrived home right on time, only to find his father puffing on a cigarette.

"Father," Mycroft greeted casually.

This situation was a bit unusual. Mycroft felt that his father must have something on his mind. Could it be that the couple had quarreled because they were middle-aged?

"Um.

""

When the old father saw Mycroft return, he pointed to the seat next to him, indicating that Mycroft should sit down.

Smoking a cigar requires real guts, but the old father didn't react much, seemingly used to it.

Unzipped the cigar, wiped the metal mouthpiece, and handed it to Mycroft. "Try it."

The moment Mycroft took the pipe, the blessing of fate was sealed, granting the pipe's functions to the eldest son of the Holmes family in this generation.

Mycroft also smokes, but his brow furrowed slightly. "It is indeed a very useful ability that can help novice apprentices shorten the preparation time for developing their abilities."

But perhaps I could change the tobacco; I prefer a lower tar type. I don't really like cigar tobacco.

The two men sat in the courtyard smoking. Wanda had a full head of white hair, while Mycroft was balding in middle age. Their strikingly similar faces made it clear at a glance that they were father and son.

Wanda didn't discuss Mycroft's preferences. Watching the sun sink below the horizon, he said, "This is an extremely rare alchemical artifact, crafted by Lorenz Holmes three hundred years ago. You should know some information about him."

"Yes, this ancestor's profession was [blacksmith], and he also possessed the blessings of a musician, the god of fate, and the god of nature." Mycroft nodded and took another light breath. "An extremely powerful super-level ability user, whose favorite thing to do was to use the bodies of his enemies to create alchemical items."

There were also instances of using brains as fertilizer, quenching fire with the blood of enemies, and even collecting enemy skin to make paper and bind it into booklets to record who had offended them...

In short, even if the Holmes family keeps a low profile for the past three hundred years, not many forces dare to provoke them, and this ancestor definitely deserves credit for that.

These contributions need not be detailed, lest they tarnish the Holmes family's approachable image.

Mycroft clearly didn't like such strong tobacco leaves. He wiped the metal mouthpiece of the pipe clean and then returned it to his elderly father.

Wanda looked at the pipe and continued to speak of information that only circulated within the Holmes family: "Lorenz preferred a low-key life in his later years and lived in our estate to retire."

This pipe, one of his few late-life gold-refined works, was a birthday gift for his brother's grandson.

"The main body of the pipe was carved from his arm bone, and the two blessings he possessed were extracted and placed within it." Wanda touched the bones of this ancestor and continued, "It is indeed a very rare alchemical artifact, which can only be used by members of the Holmes family. The determination of this is based on bloodline."

Patting his son on the shoulder, the old father threw the remaining cigars into the trash can, cleaned his youngest son's pipe in the sink outside, and then went back inside.

Mycroft hesitated for a moment, then followed him into the house.

My mother is good at stewing, and the most common dish at home is noodles mixed with the sauce from a stew.

The dishes on the table now are very different from those at our usual family meals; they were clearly not made by my mother.

That stir-fried ham was definitely not Timothy's style.

It's good to change things up. Mycroft has tried Fren's food before, and it's excellent.

Timothy and Wanda sat on one side of the table, while their two sons sat on the other side.

Mycroft's mouth was very busy, speaking intelligence while eating, managing to do both at the same time.

"Blair went to the Iris District today to investigate a dangerous, supernatural creature being smuggled," Mycroft said. "It's a spider that's aggressive and can hide in the shadows."

"The Lake Water Chamber of Commerce is an affiliate of the Black Lotus Society. Only the management of the Chamber of Commerce are official members of the Black Lotus Society."

"Most of them are elemental or causal abilities; close combat is not the mainstream."

"They worship a deity in the subspace who is neither a righteous god nor an evil god, named the Mother of No Birth. The subspace dimension inhabited by the Mother of No Birth contains the dwelling place of their souls, so the followers of the Black Lotus Society do not mind paying for it with their lives."

"【The Immortal Mother】?"

A thought struck Frey: when Mycroft uttered the name, he used syllables similar to those in Chinese from his previous life.

>