Sherlock Holmes is not a warp god.

For Ms. Olos Holmes, today should have been a wonderful day, ever since she stepped into this manor.

I sleep soundly in my own bed, hugging my plush toy. The midday sun warms me as I wake up.

The whole family lives in one city. She can become a worker at the mine, an employee of the city hall, or a student visiting the new house. In less than a day, she can see all her family members.

For Eurythus, it was a rare opportunity for the whole family to gather together like this, even when it wasn't the Feast of Grace.

Although he would inevitably encounter a dirty and despicable thief during this process, Oros could tolerate the disgust.

But before she could even lie down on her own bed, the hard-won tranquility was completely destroyed the moment she entered the room.

"How dare he..." Oros said hatefully.

Over the past ten years or so, she hasn't found it strange that people have entered her room.

For Oulos, occasionally discovering traces and scents of her father and mother was an unexpected delight, indicating that her family still cared about her.

As for Sherlock, Oros did not insist.

The mistake he made years ago seems to have left a deep psychological scar on Sherlock, even triggering his brain's self-protective mechanism to automatically block out the memory. He's even deliberately forgotten the fact that he has a sister.

In short, anyone could come in—parents, Mycroft, Sherlock, servants, or even strangers—nothing would make Oros so angry.

That one person was the only exception.

To be more precise, just by the person standing there, Oros's rationality would collapse, as if he had been blessed by a warrior, allowing his emotions to control him.

When Fren was first adopted, he entered this room a few times. But at that time, Oros had not yet grown to that level, and it wasn't until several years later that he could freely enter and leave.

Not long after, the family moved to a two-story house in the city, and Fren naturally had no chance to come in.

For a long time, Euros could come and go as he pleased, lying on this bed, reliving memories of his departure.

This time, the intrusion into his territory was seen by Oros as an even greater act of escalation, an attempt to erase even the last vestige of his existence in the household.

At this moment, Euros had absolutely no desire to sleep.

Curled up on the bed, hugging her knees, she was filled with nothing but anger and resentment.

It's like a crashed plane, completely cut off from the ground, gliding, turbulent, or even spinning to its death in the stratosphere.

The captain, crew, and most of the passengers had all lost their lives.

Only one little girl was crying, feeling despair, a despair that the others could not understand.

A lone wild goose on the edge of the clouds, duckweed floating on the water.

With nowhere left to stand in the world, she drifted further and further away from it all amidst her cries.

The farther away you are, the more you see. Oros's consciousness continued to rise, and her body and soul were undergoing a transformation unimaginable in the mystical realm, but Oros didn't care.

Like a larva emerging from a cocoon, she unfortunately cannot find the exit from the cocoon.

Either find a new anchor in this world and break free from your cocoon to become a butterfly, or die inside the cocoon.

Power is meaningless in this process.

-

Before leaving home in the morning, Floren prepared several sandwiches and placed them on the dining table.

Besides the portions for the father and mother, there are two more portions, depending entirely on how efficiently Sherlock and Watson work; if they get home in time, they'll be able to eat them.

"Good morning, Miss Blair."

Upon arriving at the city hall, Fren couldn't help but remark that Miss Blair was still as pleasing to the eye as ever.

The young woman had vigorous sexual activity with several strange men last night. She was happy, but felt unsatisfied. Fortunately, she still has partners to engage with tonight.

"Good morning, Mr. Holmes." The girl smiled brightly; she was really happy after finishing her work last night.

She felt she had made a new contribution to the city.

So even though she didn't sleep all night, Miss Joel didn't feel tired.

Elemental abilities are a long way off; honing one's body through flesh-based abilities is a more reliable approach. Furen greeted Miss Joel, his eyes gleaming.

Joel felt that Mr. Holmes's gaze was strange, but she could sense that the boy in front of her had no ill intentions.

Fren was thinking about whether he should invite Miss Joel to dinner and then have her drink a mixture of medical alcohol and red wine.

Let's get Miss Joel drunk and see if we can get some secrets about physical cultivation out of her.

However, Fren immediately realized that the Blair family must have had innate physical talent.

In the comics, Miss Joel can slice tennis balls with a tennis racket and use pufferfish blood as a painkiller; Yuri can still clock in normally even after being hit head-on by a car on his way to work, and he is still a hero after sleeping on even the most serious injuries.

There's definitely something special about the surname Blair.

Furen pondered, perhaps he had some kind of bloodline within him. After all, vampires, beasts, elves, and ghouls did exist in this world.

As long as you keep training, your body can keep improving, as if there is no limit to how much you can improve.

If asked why she became so strong, Miss Joel herself probably wouldn't be able to explain it.

Count the birds, count the birds.

Fren gave a gentle smile and returned to his office. Miss Joel glanced at him twice, then went to her workstation and continued working.

"Knock knock knock".

A knock sounded at the door, and Fren looked up and said, "Come in."

He thought it was Ms. Sharon who had come to assign him his work for the day, but instead, an old man walked in.

"Secretary McMahon, what brings you here?" Fren quickly stood up and welcomed the old man in.

Matthew McMahon is a veteran of the city hall and now serves as the head of the policy department at the Berlin City Hall.

Fren was just a staff member; above him was a section chief, and the minister was the section chief's superior.

It's been almost a month since I arrived at the city hall, and I've barely seen this leader more than a few times.

[A man with a successful career and family life, but in reality, he often sneaks out at night behind his wife's back to meet with young and beautiful subordinates of his. Besides his work at the city hall, he has another identity, and is currently worried about a staff shortage.]

This identification entry feels strange. If Furen didn't know the truth, he might really think that the two of them were having an affair.

In reality, Miss Blair and Secretary McMahon were always just colleagues.

"Mr. Holmes, are you free tonight?" the minister asked with a smile.