Sherlock Holmes is not a warp god.

Fren noticed that he had been frequently going to the suburbs lately.

The air-raid shelter where they were kidnapped and taken as sacrifices was in the suburbs, as was the Azkaban prison. And the laboratory they went to with Charlotte in the dead of night was also outside the city.

Before the establishment of Ostalia, Berlint was a stronghold of nobility. Bounded by mountains on one side, a river on the other, and dense forests on the other, it was a strategically important and easily defensible location if one controlled a few key transportation points.

Having weathered countless wars over the years, Berlin naturally holds many secrets both inside and outside the city.

Take this mine, for example; it's a copper-rich deposit. If Charlotte hadn't brought him here, Furen wouldn't have known that a laboratory was hidden beneath these roaring machines.

This mine has been in operation for two hundred years and still maintains a stable output. While the less advanced mining technology of that era is one reason, it also proves that the mineral content is indeed very high.

With a large number of mining trucks coming and going every day, it's really not easy to spot the experimental equipment and children who are used as experimental supplies.

"The entrance is inside the warehouse," Charlotte said, pointing to a building in the southeast corner. "The entrance is a cold storage room, and you can swipe a card to go directly underground."

With a depth of nearly 100 meters, plus concrete layers, buffer layers, and soundproofing materials in every room, the sound of mining above will not affect the inside at all.

"You're very familiar with this place," Fren said with a smile.

"The lab I blew up was like this, also located in a mineral vein." Charlotte's expression didn't change much.

However, on the way there, Fren learned from Sherlock that his second brother had rescued more than a dozen two- or three-year-old children at the border, but only three of them survived.

Sherlock didn't tell Fren how the children died, but he always remembered it himself.

Each one of them died right before Charlotte's eyes.

Of the Holmes children, Mycroft was calm to the point of indifference, while Florence was withdrawn and disliked interacting with others. Charlotte was arrogant, eccentric, and somewhat emotionally challenged, but ironically, she was the most humane.

So he flew back from the border to make sure that no one who should have died had survived.

"John Watson." A muscular-looking man approached Charlotte as Fren and Charlotte were gazing at the mine, extending his hand to Fren. "Charlotte has told me a lot about you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Francisco Holmes." Fren grasped Watson's left hand. "Dr. Watson, thank you so much for taking care of Sherlock all these years."

The two shook hands and both felt each other's goodwill.

Watson thought Fren was a very sunny boy, not as aloof as Sherlock described.

Just now, Fren could feel that Watson's hand was very strong. Although he didn't know if Watson's left hand was his dominant hand, certain parts of his palm and fingers felt hard to the touch. These were thick calluses formed from friction and pressure from holding or shooting firearms and cold weapons for a long time.

He was not just a simple military doctor.

Charlotte's expression changed upon hearing Fren and Watson's polite words. "It's me who's taking care of him. You have no idea how much trouble John has gotten into because of his cleverness."

Sherlock himself didn't realize that he became more talkative when Watson was mentioned.

Fren didn't listen to Sherlock's side of the story and nodded slightly to Watson to express his gratitude. "Sherlock is rather self-righteous. I hope Dr. Watson can be more tolerant of him."

"Mr. Holmes, Sherlock has also been a great help to me."

Under Sherlock's dark gaze, Fren looked incredulous, shook his head and laughed, "Dr. Watson, just call me Fren or Francissoko."

Watching his brother and assistant chatting and laughing, Sherlock felt ignored and expressionlessly pulled something out from under his trench coat and tossed it to Fren.

Fren took it in his hand; it felt slightly heavy, and he realized it was a revolver.

It is over 50 centimeters long, with a barrel that is 30 centimeters long. The cylinder holds 5 bullets, which appear to be around 15mm in caliber.

"Blackbell Arms is the most powerful handgun on the market, but the recoil is a bit strong," Watson kindly explained.

After his eyes were enhanced, Furen was able to see the "BB" symbol engraved on the bottom of the gun handle with the help of the full moon's light.

Blackbell Group is the largest military industrial group in the country, with stable orders from the military, royal departments, and security bureaus.

Fren had no doubt that Watson said the gun had a lot of recoil. The gun itself weighed 6 kilograms.

Two days ago, if Fren had faced danger, he would have had at most two opportunities to fire a single shot in a short period of time.

One shot is fired with one hand, and then the muscles and bones are damaged and have to wait for the body to heal itself.

It doesn't matter now; with the strengthened muscles acting as a buffer, Furen won't damage the bones in his arm at all.

Correspondingly, the bullets fired from this revolver are also incredibly powerful.

"And what about you?" Fren looked at Charlotte.

If you give this gun to yourself, what will Charlotte use?

This second brother, at 187cm tall, looks extremely large, but he's actually a fragile mage.

Furen remembered that Charlotte awakened her wind-based supernatural abilities in college, which had nothing to do with close combat.

Given the distance between them, Furen figured that if he punched Charlotte now, he would have to kneel down and beg Charlotte not to die, since Charlotte didn't have the ability to heal herself.

"I'm fine with anything." Sherlock pulled a hand shuttle from under his trench coat.

Also a product of the Blackbell Group, the extended magazine holds at least thirty rounds.

[These bullets, enhanced with alchemy, can penetrate 10 centimeters of steel plate with each shot; their effectiveness is further enhanced when combined with wind-based abilities.]

Each of these bullets is extremely expensive to produce.

Sherlock, as a detective, wasn't that wealthy. He had borrowed all the guns and ammunition while loitering around the military base on the border.

Anyway, Mycroft will handle everything, so there's no harm in using Sherlock.

'He's really casual...' Furen pondered. The most likely reason Sherlock gave him the wheel was that the kid had suffered a loss with it before. Sherlock's physical strength should also be enough to make his wrist go numb from the impact.

Sure enough, even as he grew up, Sherlock was still a troublemaker.

Fren shook his head, raised an eyebrow, and sensed that something was wrong.

The three of them were standing in the woods on the mountainside when he heard some discordant sounds coming from about several dozen meters away.

It was the sound of footsteps.

Charlotte, who has wind-type abilities, naturally noticed these sounds earlier. Seeing Furen's gaze, she continued fiddling with the gun in her hand, "You don't think we're going to go in alone, do you?"

When Watson visited his comrades today, he was actually looking for someone.