The stuff in the envelope was not thick, it looked like only one piece of paper.

But this time, she woke Sherlock, who was in a shameless and fantasy of life in the future.

He didn't care about the letter that fell to the ground at the first moment, but stared at the owls that were hovering above his head, turning around in circles, thinking uncertainly.

Training owls to deliver letters?

Is this a traditional custom among British aristocrats?

Just like the flying pigeons in ancient China?

After all, he was not an expert in studying foreign historical customs and did not understand the reason. Sherlock shook his head and bent down to pick up the letter on the ground.

The owl stopped lingering over him when he saw that he had received the letter.

Because it did not receive the reward for food, it glanced at Sherlock, who looked a little dumb, then flapped his wings and went to the nearby woods to catch mice.

Of course Sherlock didn't know what the owl was thinking. He was frowning at this time studying the letter in his hand.

The envelope is made of heavy parchment paper, the address is written in emerald green ink, and there are no stamps on it.

[Collection by Mr. Sherlock Forrest, 13 Malan Flower Road, Surrey]

The name on the address was Sherlock himself. He turned over the letter and saw a wax seal and a shield seal on the top of the front.

A lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake are surrounded by a capital letter "H".

The badge made of four animals looked a bit familiar, but Sherlock couldn't remember where he had seen this heraldry.

He knocked on his head, shook his head, and did not rush to open the envelope as soon as possible, but held it in his hand with the will, intending to enter the house first.

The door key and the room key were chained together, and when he was discharged from the hospital, the hospital was handed over to him along with his other personal belongings.

The rusty door made a harsh noise when it opened.

The yard was full of weeds, and she looked neat and had a little obsessive-compulsive disorder. Sherlock frowned.

But at this time, he certainly had no time to care about this anymore. He walked straight along the path surrounded by weeds to the front of the house.

As he was about to open the door with the door key, a long "creak" sound suddenly sounded from the old wooden door.

Sherlock didn't even have time to insert the key into the keyhole, and the worn-out door opened itself.

He was stunned on the spot, and inexplicably felt as if a cold wind was blowing by his side.

As an outstanding young man trained by nine years of compulsory education in China and seven years of high-quality education, Sherlock was a standard materialist in his previous life.

Although a bizarre event that allowed him to travel through the past and possession of his soul was completely unscientific, his thoughts had not changed for a while.

Haunted house?

Sherlock shook his head and smiled.

How could there be ghosts in that world?

Just like adults use magic to deceive children, ghosts are just fantasies made up by adults to deceive other adults.

It must be that the door of the room had not been closed before, and a gust of wind just happened to blow it open.

Found scientific reasons, had sufficient excuses, and received appropriate comfort. Sherlock pushed the door open as if nothing had happened and walked into the house.

There is a significant difference from the mess in the yard, and the living room of the house is unexpectedly neat.

But the overall environment in the room seems a bit dark.

It was clear outside, but there were no rays of sunlight coming in inside the house, making it look like a medieval castle and the atmosphere was depressing.

Sherlock put the will and envelope on the shoe cabinet beside him, then took off his coat and was about to throw it on the sofa, but suddenly he found that there was an extra hanger beside him at some point.

He stopped the movements in his hand, and looked suspiciously at the clothes hanger that was only one step away from him on his right.

Just now, this thing is here?

Of course, it was just a simple doubt. At the beginning, Sherlock's attention was always on the decorations of the living room, and he didn't pay much attention to whether there was a clothes hanger next to the door.

He hung his coat on the hanger, then walked into the living room with his will and letters.

Just as he turned around and entered the room, the hanger hanging in his coat suddenly seemed to have come alive, quietly moving his position from the front of the door and returning to the originally inconspicuous corner.

Sherlock, who turned his back to it, had no idea of ​​its actions.

After he walked into the room, he first checked all the rooms in the room.

Apart from the poor lighting, this is a very ordinary and clean house.

However, the owner's taste is a bit retro, and the furniture in the house is mostly in the European medieval style, coupled with the dark environment here.

It also makes people feel that this is not a modern residential house, but a dark fortress of a medieval lord.

But putting aside these, the house just looks a bit dilapidated from the outside, the facilities inside are perfect, and the space is large, and the living area on the first floor is perfectly separated from the lounge area on the second floor.

For someone like Sherlock who dared not expect to have such a house in his previous life.

Even if he didn't have the inheritance of that cheap father, this house alone would have made him very grateful.

However, just as he was checking the bedroom on the second floor, a strange door at the end of the corridor on the second floor attracted Sherlock's attention.

It was a gray-black wooden door. If you didn’t stare in this direction intently and cooperate with the dark environment in the house, it would be impossible for ordinary people to discover this door.

Moreover, the entire door was bare, except for the lack of traces, there was not even the door handle.

If it weren't for the metal hinge connecting the door and the wall that Sherlock accidentally noticed, he would even subconsciously ignore the room.

Until now, he had not noticed anything wrong, and this strange door was attributed to his strange hobby of the original body of his body.

Just like he renovated his home into a "secret base for the old witch."

Part of her intention to fully understand where she lives in the future, and part of her curiosity, Sherlock stood in front of the door, reached out to push the wooden door without a door handle.

The door was pushed open a slight gap, revealing a soft warm yellow light from it.

At the same time, a sharp female voice suddenly screamed from behind the door.

"Sha! Luo! Ke!"

Unprepared Sherlock was shocked by the scream and quickly took a few steps back, with his back against the wall, and his hair exploded!

In this room...
Chapter completed!