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Reichenbach Falls, in the mountains of Meiringen, Switzerland.
On both sides of the waterfall, black coal-like rocks stand. There is a huge chasm at the mouth of the valley, through which the river flows.
The chasm below gradually narrowed, and the milky white, boiling water poured straight into the bottomless abyss, overflowing and splashing a torrent flowing down from the gap. The continuous green waves are like thunder, and the thick and swaying curtain of water is constantly ringing.
The torrent poured into the abyss, and the spray was high, like smoke from a house on fire. The turbulence and noise are dizzying. The waves hitting the black rock also made a rumbling sound like a roar.
Feng Bujue always felt that this was a very unlucky place. In the real world, Conan Doyle is here, born the idea of killing Sherlock Holmes. And in the virtual world, a generation of crime tycoons and detective gods died here together.
Of course, Holmes was later brought back to life by the author, while Professor Moriarty was buried here forever.
"What on earth is this showing me..." Feng Bujue stared at the flowing water of the waterfall, overlooking the dark abyss, as if he was about to be sucked into it.
The burning time of that match was much longer than expected. If the little match girl really had a box of matches like this, she probably wouldn't have frozen to death, and would be fine for a night.
"Oh, here we come..." In Feng Bujue's sight, two figures walked up the narrow road.
One of them is the famous detective Sherlock Holmes. His height is close to 1.9 meters, and his figure is slightly thin. His face was blurred, making it difficult to see the specific features, but Feng Bujue was sure that this was Sherlock Holmes, because the other man next to him was obviously over fifty years old (Holmes was set to Born in 1854, in the last case his age was around forty).
And that man in his fifties was naturally Professor Moriarty.
The two had some conversation on the narrow path, which was completely drowned out by the sound of the waterfall. Judging by the manner in which the two men talked, they seemed polite.
Feng Bujue really admired the bearing of these two people. You must know that Holmes at this moment is very aware of Moriarty's plan, and also understands that he will soon face a close fight to the death. And Moriarty, facing an opponent who has ruined everything for him, can still maintain his demeanor at the last moment before revenge, which is also admirable.
The conversation went on for a few minutes, and then, with Moriarty's consent, Holmes took out a piece of paper from his pocket and began to write on it, which was his last words to Watson. It was not long before Holmes finished writing this short message, and left the letter, cigarette case and walking stick together in the narrow passage.
Then, the two continued to walk forward.
When Feng Bujue read this passage when he was a child, he deduced between the lines that the professor had a weapon on him (the original text described Moriarty attacking Holmes as "he didn't draw out his weapon, he just rushed towards me") . He had a pistol in his pocket 100 per cent, otherwise Holmes would not have walked towards the waterfall.
But Mr. Conan Doyle never wrote about Moriarty drawing his gun from the beginning to the end. It can also be seen from this that he has a three-point grasp of the characters' personalities.
If this episode was in an American detective film in the 1980s, it would basically be... A foul-mouthed villain pointed a gun at a tough-faced tough guy protagonist walking down a narrow road, and the villain had already drawn the gun , You have to push and kick to get the protagonist to move forward obediently.
But the two characters in this book would never lose their composure like this.
As two extremely intelligent and well-bred gentlemen, there is no need to say everything, let alone put on a tense posture. Now that I know you have a gun in your pocket, and you know you have a gun in your pocket, let's talk calmly and politely, and let's do what we have to do.
"It's no different from the one described in the book so far..." Feng Bujue watched the CG-like scene while muttering: "But according to the style of this script... there will definitely be some situations that are contrary to the original."
His inference is very accurate...
Not long after, Holmes and Moriarty came to the end of the narrow passage, and the latter suddenly jumped up and launched an attack.
Moriarty's eyes were burning with hatred. The criminal empire he had run for many years was destroyed by Scotland Yard, and the detective in front of him was responsible for all of this.
Holmes had already anticipated such a development, and he immediately used his skilled fighting skills to deal with the opponent.
The fight wasn't very good-looking. There was no beautiful punching and kicking action like in martial arts movies, nor did it have the bullet time and dazzling special effects in post-modern fighting movies. More often, these two were just wrestling.
But this kind of fight is the most real. This is the case in real life. Fighting among the people and wrestling with both hands is more real than anything else.
"Uh-"
With a low roar, Professor Moriarty fell into the waterfall.
And Holmes actually fell with him...
"TF..." Feng Bujue involuntarily said a classic swear word.
At the same time, the flame on the match finally reached Feng Bujue's fingers. The slight burning pain brought him back to his senses, and the illusion in front of him disappeared.
In the dark living room, a wisp of white smoke rose faintly, announcing that the match had failed.
Feng Bujue threw the small piece of burnt matchstick on the coffee table, got up and turned on the light.
"He's dead..." Feng Bujue sat back on the sofa, frowned and thought, "Yes, he's dead!"
Brother Jue suddenly realized: "When writing "The Last Case", Conan Doyle really wanted to end the story of Sherlock Holmes, and the ending is to die together." The information in his mind swirled rapidly: "In that In the virtual world, before "The Return" was written, Sherlock Holmes was a dead man, a dead man who died in the waterfall with Moriarty... "
[Irrational things are not necessarily obvious.]
The fourth sentence of the message flashed through my mind.
"The narration on pages 599-602 was written by the author a few years later in order to 'resuscitate' the detective." Feng Bujue looked at the book again: "There is no cliff climbing, no attackers, no such 'Three people', none of them." He tore the two sheets of paper from the book as he spoke, "That's what you want to tell me, right? Moriarty."
"No, what I want to tell you is much more than that." A deep, mysterious voice responded.
The sound was like a mantra.
In a second, the scene in front of Feng Bujue changed suddenly. He seemed to wake up from a dream and came to another place.
"Oh... Am I the first one?" Feng Bujue took a closer look, and found that he was in a room with six sides all white, and the walls were filled with white light of appropriate brightness.
In front of him was a round wooden table with a diameter of about four meters, surrounded by six chairs, and he sat on one of them. And Moriarty, sitting across the table.
"Probably the last one," Moriarty replied. His outline was the same as that in the illusion just now, and at this moment, his face was clearly displayed in front of Feng Bujue.
The professor looked to be in his fifties, and there were many dimples on his face. In addition to the temperament of a scholar, there is something else between his brows, which is a cold, evil, and cruel quality.
"You mean...they will die in their own memory?" Feng Bujue said.
"Not necessarily, I just said maybe." Moriarty replied, his tone gave off a calm and restrained feeling, "They are also smart people, but you... are more different."
"Ha...Professor, you must have asked the magic mirror, who is the most handsome person in the world." Feng Bujue replied with a smile, "Hey...I deserve it."
"Look, this is one of the interesting things about you." Moriarty smiled, but there was no smile in his eyes. His pair of gray eyes stared directly at Feng Bujue's eyes like a wild beast staring at its prey, as if Can penetrate people's souls, "You are very good at using this unique sense of humor to test others. At the same time, it is also a kind of protection for yourself, which can conceal your true inner thoughts."
"Oh? Is this your judgment?" Feng Bujue said, "Hmph... But have you considered the other two hypotheses?" He raised two fingers one after another, and said, "First, I'm just a bitch. ;Secondly, I am a madman."
Moriarty sneered, he leaned forward, put his elbows on the table, and crossed his fingers in front of his chin: "Excuse me, do you think... I'm a lunatic?"
"You? Hehe..." Feng Bujue replied with a smile. He raised his hands and pointed out a finger each: "This is madness, this is you." Pulling it far: "You and madness are like two ends of a straight line, as far as you want. In my opinion, you are so rational that it makes people feel boring."
"Then what do you think..." Moriarty said again: "How high is the success rate of pretending to be crazy in front of me?"
Feng Bujue spread his hands: "It doesn't cost money to try."
"Humph… "
"hey-hey… "
"Hehehe..."
"Ha ha ha ha… "
The two guys looked at each other across the table, and started laughing inexplicably, laughing louder and louder, like two psychopaths.
It was Moriarty who restrained his smile first: "Welcome to the Mystery Club, I'm crazy."
"Can you invite your partner out?" Feng Bujue gestured towards the chair next to Moriarty with his right hand palm up.
"Fu—" A wisp of white smoke floated up, "I'm already here." Another voice said.
However, a tall and thin man holding a pipe, exhaling smoke rings, and walking lazily, came out of the blind spot behind Feng Bujue. RS
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