Get out of the way, Tiga is getting bigger [Comprehensive British and American]

The next morning, An Chunzhi woke up to the sound of light rain and the vibrating sound of his mobile phone.

Before his eyes were fully opened, he was already excited. He grabbed the phone and couldn't wait to type:

[Donut]: "Coach! Today is also a rainy day! What a pity. #狗头笑#"

[Boxing coach]: "Is it raining again? It's so strange, #呀气# The weather forecast is always inaccurate these days."

[Boxing coach]: "Then you can continue to sleep, there is nothing you can do if it rains."

An Chunzhi couldn't control the smug smile on his face, he moved his fingers quickly, and was about to send "goodbye", but suddenly received a new message.

[Boxing Coach]: "Oh yes—"

[Donut]: "Huh?"

[Boxing coach]: "Ah, nothing, accidentally typed a typo, goodbye. #笑笑#"

Steve quickly put down his phone and thumped his forehead with a headache.

——When this kind of one-way meeting with netizens, how can you politely ask Donut what you think of the new friend you met yesterday.

Sure enough, don't ask.

"...?" An Chunzhi was a little puzzled.

But still the drowsiness prevailed in his mind, he didn't think about it any more, he fell back into the bed, let out a long sigh of happiness, closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

I can finally sleep in again... This time I must sleep until twelve noon!

……

Then at seven o'clock, Sherlock got up too.

He walked to the door of the bedroom, put his hands into his trouser pockets, pretended to be indifferent, shook his body and watched for a long time, then his expression was stiff, and he swayed in slowly——after a while, there were more people in his arms. A half-asleep little white cat came out with a nonchalant expression, and strode downstairs with ease.

The tents on the ground floor have been put away and the doors of the shops are open.Strange was sitting inside the counter, staring longingly outside the glass door.

"Are you waiting for Ann?" Sherlock's deep and pleasant voice sounded, he stopped calling the boss behind his back, and walked to the counter and knocked on the table, "Ann didn't go to exercise today, she must be sleeping again I don’t get up until noon, so I have to deal with breakfast by myself.”

"Oh——" Strange rolled his eyes and sighed regretfully, "You can solve it yourself."

He bent down to look at the food under the counter, grabbed his hair and raised his head with a toothache on his face: "There is milk and cornflakes in the small refrigerator, we can soak it. There is also toast and lettuce-too bad, I'm I've long wanted to eat steaming poached eggs and fried bacon, but I can't do it."

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, not letting go of any opportunity, and said mocking words with a very serious and indifferent expression: "You can't even fry bacon? How did you live before?"

"I'm sorry, I had a dedicated chef before, so I didn't need to do it myself." Strange's expression became smug, "After all, I'm a doctor of medicine."

"—former medical doctor."

Sherlock quickly gave him a fake smile that deserved to be punched, and then returned to his indifferent expression.

Strange's face darkened, and he asked with a sneer, "Then do you know how to fry bacon? Or do you know how to fry eggs? Don't think I didn't see it. Boss Ann kicked you out angrily after asking you to help in the kitchen." gone."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows provocatively, and put the little white cat on the counter. He kept his voice calm, but suddenly sped up and said, "You think something as simple as frying bacon can stump me? Serial murder Cases, underground trading code words, secret intelligence codes, Scotland Yard so many cases that I can solve without even using my brain, these are extremely boring to me. Not to mention just frying a bacon!"

"What's your skill? Is it only smashing the TV?"

He straightened his back, turned around and went up to the second floor while maintaining a dismissive posture.

"..."

Strange's face was dark, he looked up at the surveillance camera on the ceiling that hadn't been turned on yet, and at the deserted store, feeling a little helpless.After hesitating for a few seconds, he hurried back to the warehouse, pulled up the cloak that was sleeping soundly on the passenger seat of the truck, and dragged it all the way to the recliner behind the counter.

"Sleep here, keep an eye on the shop!" Strange pointed at the cloak with a finger, and urged him with an emphatic tone, "If anyone comes, call this number secretly, you can hear it on the second floor."

The red cloak nodded in a drowsy sleep, watching eagerly as its owner rushed up to the second floor aggressively.

In the kitchen, Sherlock had already rolled up his sleeves and unscrewed the oil pot facing the frying pan with a perfect posture.

Strange glanced at him coldly, walked to the side and started cracking eggs into the bowl not to be outdone.

Sherlock noticed the gaze from the side, turned his face to the side and twitched his lips dismissively: "Fried eggs?"

"I think it's better to eat and cook separately for a while, otherwise I have to call the hospital now and ask them to reserve a space for me in their freezer." He said teasingly in a drawn-out voice.

Strange threw away the eggshell, held the egg mixer with trembling hands and stirred it in style, and countered: "Of course I eat my own, do you think I will prepare something for you to eat? You are What nobleman?"

"That would be great." Sherlock said with a smirk unexpectedly.

For a moment, Strange was speechless.

The kitchen quickly fell into a tense atmosphere, no one made a sound, only a slight rustling sound could be heard.

Sherlock's face became serious, and his sharp eyes stared at the three slices of bacon floating in the oil in the pan, turning them over with a frying spatula from time to time.

His expression looked confident, and his movements were methodical, but sometimes he sniffed his nose secretly, a little puzzled why he didn't smell a little fried food.

Strange next to him was actually holding on.

After he stirred the egg liquid evenly, he poured it into the sizzling oil pan, and the aroma of the eggs immediately filled the kitchen, no matter in terms of momentum, sound or smell, it completely overwhelmed the unknown person next to him. Sherlock.

Fried eggs - the progress bar skyrocketed!

Strange glanced over triumphantly, and began to turn the eggs over with a frying spatula.

Depressed and secretive, Sherlock peeked at the delicious eggs in the pot over there, and then at the bacon in his own pot that didn't move at all, his expression became tangled.

"—Wow, your bacon is so good." Strange added with a mocking smile.

Sherlock pursed his lips, a little unhappy.

But soon, Strange couldn't be happy.

A burnt smell began to fill his pot, and choking smoke rose in the kitchen.

Strange was a little anxious and accelerated the speed of turning over, but the eggs still turned blacker and blacker.A lot of smoke rose from his pot, and the light in the kitchen was somewhat dimmed by the smoke.

"Cough cough cough!" Strange coughed, and then he came to his senses, and quickly turned off the fire.He put the blackened broken eggs that were broken and looked nothing like poached eggs on the plate, and he was done.

This time it was Sherlock's turn to be proud, he also looked at Strange, and laughed in exactly the same exaggerated tone: "—Wow, your eggs are so good."

"Go fry your bacon! Maybe you'll get three bricks in the end!" Strange became annoyed and went downstairs with a plate in his hands.

"What are you kidding, frying bacon is not difficult for me!"

Sherlock raised his voice and yelled, but he still looked at his pot depressedly, and arrogantly chose to wait a little longer.

……

For most ordinary people in Queens, it was just an ordinary day with a little rain.

07:30 in the morning is a time with no special meaning.

At this moment, An Chunzhi was catching up on sleep in the bedroom, Sherlock was still staring at the pot in the kitchen, and Strange on the first floor bit the bullet and tasted the egg with a horrible expression.

On the street of No. 15 Avenue, a police car drove up quietly.

Sergeant George got out of the car with two subordinates, looked up to confirm the white sign of "Ping An Store", and then pushed open the glass door and walked in.

"Is the owner there?" He asked while habitually scanning the surrounding environment.There was only a handsome young man with a sad face sitting behind the counter, not the thin Asian young man.

"Are you—?" Strange put down the fork indiscriminately, and asked after soothing his poisoned taste buds.

He vaguely felt that this voice was somewhat familiar.

"I'm George Stacey. Ann called the police last night and said that three people were trying to break into the house, right?" George showed his ID.

"Yes." Although Strange returned to the tent last night, he still listened to the movement outside.He looked at the middle-aged man in front of him with some doubts, "Do you know Boss An? He is sleeping on it, do you need me to wake him up?"

"It's hard not to know." George suddenly showed a rather helpless smile on his serious face, "I've never seen a person who can encounter so many accidents. Is it the fifth or sixth incident this month? Already? The policeman who received him has already memorized his phone number."

He nodded unceremoniously: "There is a case where I need to ask Ann, so troublesome—?"

"——I'm Mordo Watson, the new clerk here." Strange suddenly stopped listening to George's words, and just put on his pseudonym.

"Mr. Watson, please go and shout." George nodded and finished the second half of the sentence.

Strange went up to the second floor again, just in time to see Sherlock coming out of the kitchen with fragrant fried bacon. Talked to.

"Huh?" Before Sherlock could sneer, Strange turned directly into the bedroom and woke An Chunzhi up.

"Boss Ann, Sergeant George came to see you and said that he has a case and needs to ask you something."

When Sherlock, who was extremely sensitive to the case, heard this sentence, his expression changed slightly, and his eyes sharpened.

"I hope he can finish the question quickly, and I can sleep again." An Chunzhi said hopefully, while putting on a thin coat and following Strange downstairs.

Sherlock immediately followed with fried bacon.

—Actually, he wasn't like this before.

It was well known that Sherlock Holmes, detective consultant, was not interested in ordinary cases and only became excited when particularly challenging problems were brought to him by Inspector Lestrade.

But during the time he stayed in the Ping An store, although Sherlock was able to observe the strange abilities he was most interested in, he was basically insulated from the case.But he was suffocated.

That's why Sherlock just heard the word "case" now, and he didn't even know the specifics, and became excited as if he smelled something.

——Even if it’s not an interesting case, an ordinary case is fine.Please come up with something to make him think a little bit.

That's what was going through Sherlock's head right now.

"Officer George, what happened? Do you want to ask me?"

An Chunzhi asked as he was walking down the stairs.He still yawned sleepily and rubbed his cheeks trying to wake himself up.

"Do you remember those three young men who came to your store last night to steal? The one who wanted to steal the Iron Man model for his brother." George asked.

"I remember, did something happen to him?" An Chunzhi was a little confused.

"His name is Thomas Miller. But it wasn't him who had the accident, it was his brother Kurt Miller." George said in a deep voice, "Thomas confessed that his brother would come to your store almost every day to look at the biggest Iron Man model." , Do you have any impression of Kurt Miller?"

The subordinate who was silently following George immediately handed over a photo.

An Chunzhi took it over and took a look, and immediately had an impression in his mind.

The photo showed a teenage boy who looked somewhat like Thomas.It's just that he looks thinner and has short brown hair.He was neatly dressed in the school uniform, with a blushed look on his face, looking very shy—a completely different type from his brother.

To be specific... probably like Peter Parker looks like.

Hmm - it's definitely not comparable when you take off your clothes.

"Yes, I have a little impression of him." An Chunzhi admitted, but did not say the second half of the sentence.

I have the impression that Kurt Miller and Peter are in the same high school, and several times he and his friends are similar to when Peter came, which made An Chunzhi pay attention.

"Officer George, what happened?" An Chunzhi asked.

He glanced vaguely at Sherlock who was half in the shadow on the stairs, and asked this question intimately.

"He's missing." George replied in a deep voice. "Actually, he's the fourth missing person this week. All the missing people are minors between the ages of 15 and [-]."

"And they all have one feature in common." George looked at An Chunzhi with deep meaning, "The missing are all thin, introverted young boys. Ann—this is one of the reasons why I came here to ask questions .”

"Uh...do I count too?"

An Chunzhi frowned, but he didn't care about this point. He was more concerned about other things, and asked worriedly, "Okay, have you found the first three missing persons?"

"Found it." George's face became more gloomy, and his words obviously paused.

"But I don't think you want to hear what they turned out to be."