The Great Demon Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 66: Why Escape?

This thrust was extremely brutal, showing that the young man before him had completely lost all mercy.

However… this thrust, which was originally aimed directly at his skull, suddenly shifted its position.

Or rather, Sherlock abruptly dodged to the side without warning.

No one knew how he did it, but his body, which had been motionless just moments before, suddenly darted to the side, causing the screwdriver to miss his head and pierce straight into the gap between his collarbone and shoulder blade.

The thrust was extremely deep, almost completely embedded, but Sherlock seemed completely unconcerned about the pain, his expression still lingering on the frustration of having lost the joy of deduction.

“Tsk, such a simple and easy-to-understand ability. As long as the prey is afraid, you can bind it, but as long as the prey is not afraid, your ability will quickly disappear, is that right?” The hooded man heard Sherlock's words and seemed to want to say something, but the madness in his mind prevented him from speaking rationally.

He could only mutter as always:

"I'll do it... hahaha... I'll do it!!"

As he spoke, he tried to pull out the screwdriver.

But before he could even exert any force, a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist tightly. The strength was immense, and his desperate attempts to break free were futile.

At the same time, Sherlock's body gradually regained its mobility, first his arms, then his torso and lower limbs. Finally, he simply grasped the other man's hand and slowly stood up.

This hooded man wasn't tall, so Sherlock had to look down at him after standing up.

As for the gouged-out demon that had been perched on his collar, it also fell to the ground with a thud as it stood up, sprawling out... Just as it tried to roll over, it was stomped on; if the little guy hadn't still retained a little energy to absorb the force of the stomp, it probably would have been crushed to a pulp on the spot.

“So, in the beginning, you needed to use the phrase ‘lift the nail’ to evoke some subconscious fear in people, right?” Sherlock completely ignored the demon’s resistance at his feet, continuing unhurriedly, “Very good. Not only are you intelligent, but you also understand what humans fear. Pain can indeed unconsciously induce fear, and words and language can indeed implant the sensation of pain into a person’s consciousness. For example, ‘If I put a toothpick in the crevices of your big toenail and then kick the wall with all my might!’ anyone who hears that will subconsciously feel uncomfortable. Similarly, ‘lifting the nail’ has a similar effect…”

Sherlock deliberately slowed down his speech so that the demon and the hooded man could hear him clearly.

Since the opponent’s ability stemmed from the prey’s fear, what if the prey not only wasn’t afraid but also explained this ability clearly and openly told the opponent, adding a touch of disappointment in his tone?

Then the effect of this ability… would probably be completely gone.

Sure enough, as he spoke, Sherlock could clearly feel his strength gradually returning;

So, he gradually increased the pressure on his hands, the hooded man's bones creaking softly, the intensifying pain finally causing the madness in his eyes to fade slightly, and he began to scream and howl, struggling even more desperately to break free.

At the same time, Sherlock's feet were slowly increasing their pressure, and the cracking sound of the little devil's limbs being broken one by one by the soles of his shoes could be faintly heard.

"Come on… you're about to lose control of me, if you don't put in a little more effort, I'll crush you."

Sherlock said sullenly, his eyes lowered, coldly watching the struggling demon beneath his feet.

But just then!

A void rift suddenly opened… close to the ground, right beneath the gouged-out demon.

A sudden sense of emptiness washed over Sherlock as the demon tumbled into the crevice... and escaped.

"Heh, a bit smarter than I thought..." Sherlock muttered dismissively, showing no anger at the demon's escape. He simply smiled calmly, then turned his gaze slightly to the hooded man still desperately trying to pull his hand away.

"Alright, we'll deal with that little guy later. Now... it's just you and me here."

He spoke casually, his smile sunny, but the two corpses lying nearby, the reeking of blood in the carriage, made his smile all the more incongruous and horrifying.

Uh, yes... the hooded man was starting to feel horrified too.

As the gouged-out demon left, the madness in his eyes began to fade, but it wasn't the expression of a normal person that replaced it; instead, it became a more intense... terror! And this fear grew increasingly sinister, like steam gushing from a leaky pipe, desperately gushing out, as if it had been suppressed within him for a very long time and had finally found an outlet.

So at this moment, he almost lost his mind and began to scream!

"Let me go... Ahhh... Let me go, I didn't do it!!!"

He howled, struggling even more, and when he realized it was futile, he suddenly twisted his arm 360 degrees.

Crackling sounds— In an instant, the tendons in his wrist snapped, and the bones in his hand were twisted and shattered by his own actions, turning his hand into a mass of soft flesh, finally freeing him from Sherlock; during this time, the hooded man seemed completely unconcerned about the pain, and without a word, he smashed through the steam train window, crashing and clanging along the viaduct, hitting countless steel bars and steam pipes before tragically plummeting to the ground.

Sherlock was undeniably a little surprised. While most contractors possessed some form of strength enhancement, he hadn't expected this young man to unleash such resolute power, nor had he anticipated such self-destructive behavior in his attempt to escape.

"Was it really necessary? Couldn't we have talked things out first? I'm a soft-hearted person; I didn't say I wouldn't let you go," he muttered, lighting a cigarette…

Normally, he wouldn't have allowed this to happen. Neither the demon nor this hooded man would have escaped him. However, he hadn't fully controlled his body yet, so he was a fraction slower.

But it didn't matter; the outcome was the same…

So… Sherlock went to the shattered glass he'd just smashed, exhaled a puff of smoke, and then casually leaped down. The wind blowing in the opposite direction billowed his coat, making it flutter loudly.

After landing, he glanced in the direction the young man had disappeared, shaking his head with a hint of pity:

"Young people these days really lack mental fortitude. They want to run away at the slightest thing. Why run away? They can't escape anyway..."