Sherlock Holmes is not a warp god.

Last week, he was tied up in an air-raid shelter by his followers and killed people using flesh and blood. In fact, this was the first time he had killed someone.

When Fren killed someone, he seemed nonchalant, as if it were easier than killing a chicken, showing no psychological problems. There are two main reasons for this.

Having awakened his memories, Furen sees familiar characters from his past life and his family in this life, but everyone else is just an NPC in his eyes.

When playing a game, it's hard to feel emotional when you kill a small monster.

Furthermore, in Fren's memory, killing seemed to be a trivial matter.

When the Holmes family was having dinner, they talked about killing someone as casually as if they were telling their mother they were going to make chicken soup for dinner. If others overheard, they would have thought it was some kind of criminal gang's hideout.

In short, it's all about family tradition. Now that he knows his maternal grandfather was involved in establishing an assassin organization, it's still within Furen's acceptable range.

The housewife busy in the kitchen at this moment was simultaneously a teacher and an assassin before Sherlock was born.

That's somewhat similar to the lives of Miss Joel and Secretary McMahon. Does that mean all assassins are like that?

"The glory of the Carter and Holmes families will be worn away by the sands of time in the future."

Timothy first sighed a few times about her good-for-nothing sons, then said to Fren, "Mom thinks you could go to the garden before school."

"Fren, you have few material desires. You're not short of money now, and you won't lack the knowledge you want after you go to university. But there's one thing you can only accumulate on your own, and that's experience—life experience and combat experience."

"When Aostania is overgrown with weeds, the gardeners have to prune those branches that are no ordinary people. They have all sorts of ways to protect themselves that you won't see in college."

His mother's words were very persuasive, but Fren felt a bit of a headache, rubbed his temples, and said, "Having many methods also means there's danger. My self-healing ability doesn't mean I'm immortal."

"What you're tasked with dealing with can't be too dangerous," Timothy scoffed at his son's overconfidence. "You only need to consider whether the mission objective is dangerous after you've completed your training."

Fren nodded. "I'll think about it seriously."

Just give me a perfunctory answer first; whether I go or not later is up to me.

Noodles alone wouldn't be enough for six people, so Timothy planned to make some roast meat and stew as well.

Floren skillfully began preparing the side dishes; she was too busy to manage on her own.

Seeing Fren's actions, the old mother was very pleased. This adopted son was much better than the other two who only knew how to eat.

Mycroft may hold a significant position in the central government, but at home he's somewhat disliked. Charlotte's parents have also described her detective career as somewhat idle.

However, they are all sons, and as long as they are happy, their parents let them be. They rarely interfere in the lives of their three brothers.

"Mom doesn't know what changes have occurred in you this past month. Whatever you've been through, remember that you still have your family." Timothy Carter knew Fren best. After Fren awakened his memories, his personality and habits hadn't changed much, but his way of dealing with the world was definitely influenced by his past life, something Timothy had naturally noticed. "If you were the same as before, Mom wouldn't say anything, but your mindset has changed, and what you need is no longer the same."

Looking into Fren's eyes, Timothy saw a wider world reflected in those familiar black pupils.

In the past, Furen could survive in a room until the end of time, but now Furen has the ambition to become stronger.

As a mother, Timothy naturally wanted to find a way to help Floren.

The garden is an excellent avenue, offering resources and familiar, reliable, and powerful individuals, where Furen is bound to grow.

More importantly, even academics in universities may have factional infighting, but the gardener of a garden will not favor any power.

Minister McMahon told Fren that the Garden was established by several lawless and powerful figures after the founding of Ostonia. In fact, the Garden is older than many noble families; dynasties have come and gone, but the Garden has always existed.

The garden is only responsible to the people of this land beneath its feet.

Even if the garden disappears temporarily, someone will eventually take on the responsibility of the garden and become the new gardener.

No amount of money, profit, or power can corrupt the gardeners who are united by their faith.

In Timothy's view, this is the best place for Fren to grow up, where he won't be influenced by politicians and businessmen.

But that's about all we'll say; whether Fren is willing to go on is entirely up to him.

Put the brisket in the oven, and the rest are all very simple steps. Timothy chased Fren out of the kitchen and told him to go and help everyone set the table.

Just as the main course was served, the sound of a car stopping was heard, and it was Sherlock and Watson who had returned.

Timothy and Wanda were very kind to their assistant, who had risked his life alongside Sherlock. As parents, they knew that Sherlock rarely approved of anyone, and finding a compatible partner for their second son was even more difficult than getting Sherlock married.

"Dr. Watson, thank you for your hard work." Fren stepped forward and shook hands with Watson.

Watson probably didn't sleep a wink all night dealing with the children at the lab headquarters.

Just as everyone was seated, the doorbell rang.

Fren, who was about to pour himself a glass of juice, was closest to the door, so naturally he went to open it.

When Furen opened the door, he saw a boy with chestnut curly hair and freckles on his face. He was about the same age as Furen and was wearing a uniform. Furen thought someone had ordered takeout.

Upon seeing someone open the door, the visitor greeted them with a very standard smile. "Hello sir, it's the end of the month, and we need to record the water and electricity meters. We hope we haven't disturbed you."

In this world, the current level of technology naturally doesn't have smart meters and water meters that are connected to the internet; people have to manually record them every month.

It seems a bit late to check the table at this time.

Moreover, the ordinary smile on the staff member's face made Fren feel inexplicably uneasy.

Just as he was pondering where this feeling came from, a word suddenly appeared above the person's head and landed on Fren's face.

[The suffering of being with those you hate is edible.]

[Burning blood and crimson fury, drawn from the still-warm bones. Deep hatred cooks the lungs and heart, forging the path to the underworld for this petty thief!]

[Effects of Consumption: Greatly increases self-healing ability and flesh manipulation ability experience points; can awaken the 'Elemental - Romantic' ability.]

[Hate! Hate! Hate! The young girl wanted to devour the thief before her, grind his flesh to dust, and scatter his bones to ashes. All these emotions could not quell the hatred in her heart.]

"What the hell?"

Fren was slightly startled. The entry was a bit lazy; what did it mean to use the terminology from the DC Red Lantern Legion?

Moreover, I have always been a person who does not compete with the world, so how could I have provoked such great hatred?

However, the effects of consuming it this time seem a bit too strong.

Furen vaguely guessed the origin of this boy... or rather, the girl.