Chapter 21 It is an iron rule not to betray friends

"Good morning, Dr. Allen."

"Good morning." The young man took out a small key from his pocket and opened the door of the clinic. He was pale and thin, with an ordinary appearance and wearing a meticulous three-piece suit. Allen Cosmins was the best doctor in this chaotic neighborhood in London.

It stands to reason that they should not have such a good doctor.

With Allen's medical skills, he should have a clinic in a more decent place.

But from the very beginning, he opened a clinic in this rat-inhabited street. This neighborhood is the dirtiest and darkest place in London. There are countless casinos, places of entertainment, homeless people, fugitives, and the houses here are all built in a mess, which makes them seem to grow out of this land.

Therefore, when he stared at them at night, he always felt that they were breathing slowly and deeply, and they also needed to eat.

Their food is the flesh and sweat of these people at the bottom of society, as well as the pitiful lives that are no longer useful.

They ate everything, but they still looked sad and barren, because all the nutrients were sent to a place not far away. He looked up and looked at the rich area, where there were beautiful museums, universities, bookstores, and nutrients and blood transported by invisible underground blood vessels.

But he had no sympathy for the humans here.

He came here just to hunt.

Hunters in nature remove the old, weak, sick and disabled from the population, so without wolves, deer can't live well.

He is a wolf.

A high and mighty wolf.

But in the deer's territory, the wolf is better disguised as a deer.

"Reason," he raised his finger and pointed at his tall nose, "I am an immigrant, and I am a Jew, so I took the initiative not to mix with those noble and pretentious guys."

This is a very credible reason.

He has always behaved in a law-abiding, educated, diligent and helpful manner.

Therefore, no one doubted his original intention of settling here, and instead sympathized with his ill-fated fate.

"Dr. Allen is so unlucky." They all said, "He is such an excellent doctor, and he has a naturally noble and compassionate heart."

"Compared with those doctors, he is no worse than them."

"He is better than those doctors."

People all said so.

This will be confirmed today, Allen thought, he will play a hero today and rescue a woman who survived the arrest of Jack the Ripper.

He knows where the woman is imprisoned better than anyone else, of course there is only one reason, he is Jack the Ripper himself.

Allen is very talented, he has been an excellent student in his class since he was a child, but he has poor eyesight, wears clumsy thick glasses, and his face is full of freckles.

So from childhood to adulthood, he has never been able to invite a woman to dance with him at a Christmas dance.

Of course, there are some women who have invited him, but he disdains to accept these sympathetic charity, and these female classmates are plain-looking and unpleasant. If he accepts, it will seem that he is eager for such charity. It's

too cheap.

So in his more than ten years of studying, he never had a friend of the opposite sex, nor a Christmas party with a dancing partner.

Although his father was notorious, he was rich after all, so he had a very beautiful mother.

His father brought her back from some place.

A dirty but beautiful woman who was born to please people and make people laugh.

Of course, his father was not a sympathetic benefactor. He was a businessman, and he had always been like this. So there was only one reason why he took a fancy to his mother, that she could be his asset. After all, when entertaining guests, hiring a wife who was not as good as himself from outside had this talent.

What's more, Jews can marry more than one wife.

All men can serve my mother loyally, Alan thought, but he encountered a terrible problem.

That is, he should also be considered a man.

Why did his mother refuse to serve him?

Isn't he a man?

So he had his first prey, no, from the perspective of public morality, he had his first victim.

He did everything perfectly. He strangled her fragile neck with a rope, then cut open her belly and observed carefully. Although he applied for medical school and there would be many opportunities like this in the future, those bellies were not where he was born, so they did not have such magical allegorical meanings for him.

He stared at the crimson human organs and fell into deep philosophical thinking.

He said to the dying woman, "You are old. No one cares about an old prostitute. You are absolutely insignificant in this world."

"No one will look for you, and no one will even mind your disappearance."

"Aren't you the only one I can count on?" The woman finally asked him a question, "Alan!"

Alan's hand did not loosen at all.

Until her neck made a crisp sound.

"Because you don't love me." He murmured to himself, "You admit that so many muddy guys are men, but you don't admit that I am one."

"But if I kill you, I will also conquer you, and I will conquer you more deeply than they did." He picked up the bloody lumps one by one, "I want to conquer more."

"I want to take back everything the world owes me over the years." He said, "You say you love me, but I don't need women's condescending love. Women are weaker than me. I just need them to be conquered."

"Being dominated, deprived of all the hypocritical and pretentious good qualities, and finally died in tears and humiliation." He whispered, "In their eyes, I am a higher link in the food chain, their god."

He crawled out of his mother's blood again, feeling that he had been reborn again. He stood under the water pipe and washed his mother's blood off his body layer by layer, revealing his familiar yet unfamiliar face in the mirror again.

Perhaps the one who was born again was not the taciturn and dull Alan, but Jack the Ripper.

However, the things that woman left him were really tenacious. After all, he was still wearing Allen's skin during the day.

Allen walked into the clinic, which was very clean. He had no habit of collecting any of the victims' remains, and never handled corpses in his own clinic.

The last victim was hidden by him in an abandoned basement of a red-light district a few streets away.

When he committed the crime, she did not see his face, nor did he reveal any features. Thanks to the stingy woman, she did not pass on her beauty to him. He was too ordinary and could be everyone in London.

She was so beautiful, but she made him so dull and boring. As expected, she gave me nothing.

Moreover, his pale skin and thin figure were similar to the nobleness that those people flaunted. The survivor would identify Sherlock Holmes, after all, their figures were so similar.

"Is a lady sick?" He smiled at the visitor. He was a frequent visitor to that brothel, so he would definitely find him to see a doctor before the victim starved to death.

So he could find the victim naturally and send her to the police station. Everything seemed so seamless and logical.

He had no interest in Sherlock Holmes.

He could swear to God.

After all, he had sent three provocative letters to the police station. However, since he was a good friend of the police, they had not caught him yet, which showed that they were not blessed by God.

He himself was a person blessed by God, so there was no need to pay any special attention to such a detective.

However, now he had another discovery. That person was not a person blessed by God, but a fool who wasted God's gifts.

That girl.

The girl who followed him.

If Jack wanted to end his legendary life with something, he would be willing to hunt her down.

She had such terrible destructive power in her body, but she was tamed by the so-called rules and didn't reveal a single bit.

A lonely, young, deceived god.

So pitiful.

So sad. He wanted to conquer her. This way he could take revenge on the so-called Sean, who relied on his powerful power from birth to boss him around. However, although he had the power and reputation of killing, he didn't understand what killing meant. No wonder

many

mystics

said that the Thirteen Kings were just familiars that humans could use.

Just like women, they were born to do things that men couldn't do, but they were just slaves of men. Their expertise in giving birth was just an instinct for men.

He might be able to conquer the Thirteen Kings, Jack thought, if he could kill the girl as his most perfect way to retire and prove his ability.

Dr. Allen listened to the patient's boss's request with a humble and sympathetic smile on his face, and then said that it was urgent to leave now.

When he locked the door of the clinic, he felt for no reason that there seemed to be a few nightingales behind him.

It was morning now, why was there a nightingale, he couldn't help thinking, of course he was very concerned about the girl's question of whether she heard the nightingale's call. He had never found the exact meaning in the occult books.

And his case seemed to exceed every situation recorded in it.

The nightingale called in the first half of the night, which meant happiness, he had heard it before, the nightingale called in the second half of the night, which meant wealth, he also heard it, and the nightingale called in the early morning, which meant a bad omen.

And he heard all three.

Jack knew that the so-called thirteen kings were just the defeated opponents of the mysterious era and the human race. Their nature should be obscurely recorded in the occult.

But what exactly were these nightingales calling? His heart was involuntarily covered with a layer of haze. He looked around and didn't see any place where nightingales might live.

"Sir, did you hear the nightingale just now?" he asked.

The boss pressed his temples. "Nightingale?" He laughed. "There are no nightingales in the city. I haven't heard a nightingale for twenty years." "

But maybe they are practicing ventriloquism." The boss said, "They have to have some new tricks to attract customers, right?"

Alan smiled.

Could it be the girl's familiar? She hasn't grown up yet, so it's normal for the familiar to be weak. If she is restricted by this and disrupts the perfect plan, it may be exactly what she wants.

Most of the creatures in the other world weaken humans by affecting their minds first. He said to himself that the nightingale's call is probably one of these tricks.

As he walked forward.

He heard the nightingale's call again. It was

three calls.

One more miserable and trembling than the other, as if it was afraid of the arrival of something, as if it was announcing the arrival of something terrifying, as if the last drop of blood was about to be shed, and it could only struggle to death to leave behind the unwillingness and panic of something fleeting in the world.

It was as if the dying weeping blood was enough to scare anyone who had blood on their hands.

It seemed that the girl was quite powerful, Jack thought, but since he had seen through the essence of this trick, he had nothing to fear.

He did not see that not far behind him, a beautiful and noble blonde woman quietly raised her hand, and the nightingale landed on her finger.

What a frivolous and cruel human being, Gold thought, her long hair shining with golden light was braided into a complex and exquisite braid, gathered behind her head, she was wearing a simple white dress, without even a bustle or lace, but at first glance, she made people feel that she was a rare noble person in the world.

"The omen has been warned, and we have done our best." She smiled, a generous and gentle smile, "Our kindness to the believers can also be declared over."

The black rose formed a circle around the young man's neck silently, and left a ring at the back of his neck, as if inviting the hinge to pass through it.

And he was completely unaware.

Not long after, they arrived at the place. The young man pretended to be still asleep in the morning and stepped on nothing, then shouted that there was a secret passage. Soon the police arrived at the scene and found a secret passage under this luxurious building.

Soon a woman wrapped in a blanket was helped out by the police. She had a high fever, shivered, and spoke incoherently. She was carried on a stretcher. The street became quiet again from the chaos in an instant.

After all, this is the dirtiest place in London. It is common to find a corpse, not to mention a living person.

The ripples were stirred for a while, but soon they were smoothed out.

"It's okay, just do your own thing." Everyone said so, "Anyway, she is just a prostitute, with no family or friends, and is an insignificant person."

"So what is her name?" someone asked curiously.

"Mary?" someone said, "Or Helen, but what does it matter? There are a hundred Marys on this street alone."

Jack listened to these discussions calmly. He always chose his prey in this way, the scum abandoned by everyone. You are insignificant. No one's brain will stay for you for even three seconds after you die.

However, he remembered some unpleasant things.

Some of these women did not show the ugly appearance he expected before they died, but cursed at him.

He was actually despised by such scum, he thought, and caught two more for experiments that night. Fortunately, the results of the experiment satisfied him.

Of course, in addition to these lives that no one cared about and died on their own, he also experimented on some pampered ladies, or unlucky ladies who got lost, or poor couples.

But he got himself into some annoying troubles, which affected his life, so he rarely stepped out of his comfort zone.

However, the expressions on the faces of the families and lovers of the deceased were really interesting. If he didn't plan to retire, he would probably go to taste it again.

"Okay, don't be nervous, take the medicine." He said gently to the female patient, "You should feel better after a few days of rest."

Then he packed up the medicine box and returned to the clinic. He knew that the police would come to him and ask him to describe the secret passage.

And he often went in and out of the small building, so he could also provide some clues about who the owner of the secret room was.

He had already trapped Sherlock Holmes in his web. What's next? Will he accept his fate or struggle in vain with his limbs broken?

John Watson put his handbag on the table. He hurriedly pulled open the woman's clothes. Just one look and he felt the blood in his body turned cold.

There was an obvious mark of strangulation on the woman's neck, which was why she couldn't speak clearly now, but she should be able to fully recover in two or three days.

But her torso was covered with numerous horrifying wounds, which were shallow lines cut by a knife, and the dark red lines that barely closed marked the location of the internal organs.

Around the uterus, a circle of exquisite lace was drawn patiently, and a pair of little angels holding a basket of flowers were carved, even forming a religious painting welcoming the Son of God.

How many cuts were there, and how painful the victim must be. Watson didn't believe that the murderer would be kind enough to anesthetize the victim.

"Asshole." Watson couldn't help but say, although it was generally external injuries, it was probably difficult for this woman to recover from this nightmare for the rest of her life.

Luna stood aside and handed him tools, gauze, medicine, and a knife. The chestnut-haired young doctor was concentrating on dealing with the infection and fever, and finally finished dealing with the last wound.

He sat on the floor exhausted, motionless for a long time, and Luna came over and handed him a cup of water, and then sat down beside him obediently.

"They say the suspect is Sherlock Holmes," Luna said softly, breaking the excessive silence in the consulting room, "Do you think so?"

"I don't think so," Watson said, drinking up the water, not even leaving out the last drop. He weakly raised his hand and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, seeming to have regained some energy, "But I don't know why, he himself said that he doesn't rule out this possibility."

Luna couldn't testify in court, Watson thought, first, she couldn't organize a set of testimony that ordinary people could understand, and second, what she could do didn't match her appearance.

But she must know the truth of everything, and he believed her.

Luna hugged her knees quietly, "Is that so."

"Then does he agree to die?" The girl asked softly, would he send himself to the gallows? She thought about the question Jack the Ripper asked her, did Sherlock Holmes have the courage to face such a sin and death.

"If he did it, he would definitely die." Watson said. He took out a piece of candy, threw it into his mouth, and pressed it under his tongue. Finally, the black fog in front of his eyes dispersed a little. "He is such a person."

"I would too." He said halfway, but swallowed the second half.

"Although the description of the appearance in the testimony of this survivor is consistent with his, and he does meet the time of the crime." Watson said, pressing the solar plexus, "and as a doctor, I have to admit that sleepwalking and secondary personality exist."

"But." Watson uttered a word, and it seemed that he had not thought of the following words, so he was silent for a long time.

"So Luna, who is Jack the Ripper?" Watson finally spoke, and he asked seriously word by word.

Luna blinked, "In the face of so much of your common sense and reasoning logic, you still don't think he is Jack the Ripper?"

"And he seems to have remembered some relevant memories." Luna whispered, stealing a glance at the young doctor sitting next to him. This day and night was too long for him, making his face gray and yellow, his lips chapped, and the whole person was like a plant in autumn frost.

"You said that not betraying friends is an iron rule of survival." Watson said softly, "So even if he doubts himself, I can't betray him, that's all."

"So Luna, please tell me, what is Jack the Ripper's real name?" He asked, he turned his head, although the young man looked haggard, but his pair of blue eyes were unexpectedly bright, even blazing.

Like a flame on the sea, no one would think of its possibility on a clear and cloudless day, but it burned even more fiercely when a thunderstorm came.

"Alan," Luna whispered, and the girl's lips moved, uttering a name, "Jack the Ripper is Dr. Alan Cosmins, who runs a clinic in the shantytown."

She heard the young man beside her let out a long breath from his chest, as if a heavy burden had been lifted, and then she heard a muffled sound, the sound of a person hitting the floor.

Luna reached out and touched Watson's neck, the blood vessels were beating under the skin, he was still alive, probably just after being overworked and suddenly relaxed his mind and fell into a coma.

It shouldn't matter, Luna thought.

Gold stood behind her, "Why don't you let him investigate?" The woman asked slowly, teasing the nightingale on her fingers.

"Is it because he lacks the talent for investigation?" Gold asked.

Luna shook her head.

"It's like doing something for a friend." She said softly, "He still didn't betray his friend under such circumstances, so logically speaking, it's a good choice to make friends with him."

Gold smiled, "Indeed."

She lowered her eyes, "That's right, Luna."

"After all, although we are different from humans, we have always lived under the same sky, and of course we have many similarities." Gold said, putting his hand on the girl's shoulder, "So you need friends now too."

"Sean is waiting for you." Gold said,

and Luna blinked, "I haven't seen Sean for a long time. How has he been recently?"

"Very good." Gold smiled, "Of course Sean is very good. Anyone who dares to make Sean unhappy will end up in a bad end, right?"

"That's right." Luna laughed, "Sean's power is really enviable."

"Sean made strawberry cake." Gold said, letting the nightingale fly away, "You can try to see if his cooking skills have improved."

"Hasn't his cooking always been super delicious?" Luna stood up and felt around for Wang Yao around his neck, "I always like Sean's cooking anyway."

"If you said it to his face, he might have cooked a whole table in one go," said Gold. "That guy can't help but praise."

"I want to eat barbecue," Luna said seriously, thinking, "and lots and lots of cheese."

"I seriously doubt that Sherlock Holmes has starved you," said Gold, and the two men threw down the king's key, and the world dissolved, turned upside down and reshaped, standing on the dead silent streets of London with white dust flying.

"And after this incident, will he hate you?" Gold asked softly.

Luna blinked, "Why?"

"Because you are like a beacon. The king is too heavy and his gravity is huge and terrifying, so all kinds of weird and evil things will be attracted to you, and then to him." Gold explained, "As far as I know, it is difficult for the human spirit to withstand such pressure."

Luna pondered for a while.

She looked at the street in front of her seriously.

"Is that so?" she asked, "But he is willing."

"I thought you would leave in order not to implicate mortals." Gold smiled.

"Well," Luna nodded, "If that's the case, it's better to leave."

"But I think if I leave, he will definitely look for me everywhere." Luna said, "After all, he thinks I am very important and will have an impact on the world, so he will definitely not let me commit crimes freely anywhere."

"Commit crimes?" Gold laughed, "Why do you use this word?"

"Then what word should I use?" Luna asked sincerely.

"The king cannot be associated with the crime. Everything you do must be correct and in line with your nature. Once you raise doubts about yourself, then collapse and disintegration are not far away." Gold warned, "In other words, no matter how humans or anything else evaluate you, you must feel that what you do is just."

Luna nodded, "Okay, I remember."

"I haven't violated my nature either." Luna said seriously, "Jack the Ripper stabbed me, but I didn't kill him because of you and Sean." She raised her head proudly, like a little rabbit waiting to be praised.

Gold couldn't help but smile and reached out to touch her head.

"Well," Gold nodded with a smile, "I thank you very much, Your Highness."

"Gold," Luna breathed out softly, "Are you still lonely?"

"I can't not be lonely." Gold said softly, "Isn't this one of my characteristics?"

"Although these strange humans can provide some temporary stimulation, I am still very lonely." She said, her voice was always cold, like the deepest snowy night in winter, "When can we return to our hometown?"

"Can we really return to our hometown?" Gold sighed softly and said to himself.

"Yes." Luna said, her voice was not loud but very serious and firm, "I believe that my hometown exists, and we will return to it eventually."

"Let's go together." She reached out and grabbed Gold's hand, "Let's go back to our eternal hometown together."

The globe on the round table was still turning slowly, and there was indeed a strawberry cake and a stove on the round table. Sean was wearing an apron and cutting meat slices, preparing for a banquet.

"Sean, what kind of person is Jack the Ripper?" The girl sat down beside the round table, looked up at Sean who was standing, and asked curiously, "Is he smart or powerful?"

The king called Sean always appeared in front of his followers as a burly, serious and majestic man.

But Sean rarely kept that form.

For example, now he has returned to his original appearance, a pale and weak blond boy, wearing a beautiful lace white shirt, a white apron, and holding a beautiful kitchen knife to cut bright red meat.

"Smart, I guess." Sean said lightly, "But he is very thin, has freckles all over his face, and wears glasses, so he has never achieved the status he wants among the opposite sex."

Luna nodded, holding his chin and fell into deep thought.

"If you don't like him, just strangle him to death." Sean said, "He's just an insignificant human being. Gold will understand. After all, you are more important."

He cut a group of meat slices, put them into a delicate small plate, and put them aside. "Who's coming today?" he asked.

Gold also sat down at the table, poured himself a cup of black tea, and drank it slowly.

"Halph, come here, Frey, come here too, and Riel will see what happens." Gold tasted the black tea. Although this cup of black tea had neither milk nor sugar, her face showed some satisfaction.

"Banquet." A voice came over, "Take me one, take me one."

"Lilith." Luna raised her hand and waved, and the red-haired woman sat down at the table. "I'm starving. Sean cooks for me personally. I will be moved to tears."

Gold avoided her body without making a sound. Lilith picked up a can of beer and drank it happily.

Gold and Lilith have always been like this. Luna thought that they are a pair of opposite natures after all.

Gold is loneliness, emptiness and despair.

Lilith is desire, impulse and hope.

Lilith, the king of lust, has long red hair, bright golden eyes, and the same facial features as Gold, but Gold has golden hair and scarlet eyes, which is exactly the opposite of hers. Therefore, people always think that Gold is beautiful and noble, while Lilith is dissolute and evil.

"There are people in the world who play with the desire to survive." Lilith said excitedly while looking at the bubbles coming out of the beer, "This human is really annoying."

"It doesn't matter if you kill him, after all, he is an insignificant human." Sean said calmly, cutting another piece of meat, "No one loves him, and no one thinks he is important. He has neither a family nor offspring, so his weight in this world is as light as a feather. If such a life can make you happy, it's not bad."

"I don't have that interest." Lilith said, "And I have always loved Gold."

"The word love appears so frequently in your mouth that it makes people very suspicious of its authenticity." Gold said lightly.

"I really mean it," Lilith said. "I love you, Luna, and Sean."

Luna blinked, as if chewing on the words for a while.

"Any questions?" Lilith asked, tapping the beer glass with her fingers happily, causing more bubbles to appear.

"Dr. Watson said that people who love everyone they meet are morally corrupt," Luna said solemnly.

Gold couldn't help laughing. Lilith raised her hand to cover her face. After a while, "Well, in the secular sense, there is indeed no problem."

"That's because a human has too little love. If he gives it away like this, he will be a cold, indifferent, selfish person, but I have a lot of love, and I can do it." Lilith argued.

Luna thought for a while.

"Then in order to prevent Lilith's love from being used up," Luna reasoned, "I'm already very good with Lilith, so I don't need Lilith to love me."

Gold laughed again, pursing her lips, and her hand holding the teacup kept shaking, obviously holding it very hard.

Lilith rubbed her face, as if trying to straighten her distorted expression.

"I should have known not to vote for you to go to the humans." Lilith complained half-seriously.

"Okay." Lilith clapped her hands. "I'm not here just to eat."

"Sean." She stopped smiling. "That neighborhood wants to believe in me."

"Do you think I should respond?" she asked.

"You want to respond." Sean said slowly. "Since they are trapped in the fear of Jack the Ripper, it is reasonable for them to worship Lilith." "

Yes." Lilith took a sip of beer. "But I have a hunch."

"They can solve this problem by themselves." She said, watching the bubbles in the beer glass slowly rise, and then cracked on the water surface, just like the parchment scrolls that recorded ancient legends were vulnerable in the sun.

"So you don't plan to be a patron saint who is destined to be abandoned?" Sean asked, continuing to cut the meat without looking away.

"What kind of self-conceit is this?" Lilith said indifferently, "Vengeance is mine, and I will repay it."

"We are not human beings, and principles are our instincts that we can't get rid of no matter what." Lilith sighed, "But this is a good sign, isn't it?"

"Yes, believing in themselves means that we are one step closer to returning home." Sean said, his eyes lingering on Luna for a moment, "Then see if your premonition can come true."