The Great Demon Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 70: Absorption?

As the roar grew louder, the entire street trembled, and rubble from the ruins began to tumble down with a series of crackling sounds.

The gouged-out little demon had no idea what was happening, but it knew it couldn't stay hidden in the rubble any longer; what if a few larger rocks fell and buried it?

So, it dragged its weak body out, then, feeling the vibrations beneath its belly, instinctively looked in the direction of the roar.

Then, it froze…

Actually, intelligence isn't always an advantage for demons. Those demons whose minds are only occupied with eating and sleeping… while perhaps a bit stupid, at least they won't be stunned by the scene for long. After a brief moment of bewilderment, they will inevitably follow their instincts and run.

But this small, gouged-out demon was different. It was completely stunned. Its dozens of pairs of limbs were motionless, and it had even forgotten to twist its body back. It could only lie there blankly, as if fear had stripped it of control of its body.

If its current state were described as that of a 'person,' it would undoubtedly be someone utterly dumbfounded and sprawled on the ground.

Because… it saw a surging black tide.

No, this place was far from the ocean, so of course there were no tides.

Therefore, it was a massive swarm composed of countless black, sticky tentacles, tangled together haphazardly, pushing and shoving forward recklessly… It swept past abandoned buildings, knocking over decaying road signs, phone booths, the wreckage of abandoned carriages, and some unlucky smaller demons who hadn't managed to escape.

Even some of the smaller demons that managed to escape didn't survive, because countless tentacles would extend along the way, engulfing everything within reach!

Actually… this was just bad luck for the gouged-out demon. The black tide of tentacles wasn't yet powerful enough to engulf everything. If it had encountered a few stronger demons along the way, it might have been torn to shreds.

But there were no obstacles along this stretch… only a few equally unlucky smaller creatures, dragged into the tide as soon as they passed, becoming nourishment for the tentacles.

As for large demons, they were almost nonexistent in the city. Due to the holy light, all the big ones had migrated towards the massive, several-kilometer-long void rift on the Antarctic continent, or rather… the Gates of Hell.

Anyway, the enormous black tide surged in.

And as the tentacles drew closer, the gouged-out demon saw, even more incredibly, a carriage rushing towards it from the very center of the tide.

The horse was entirely black, its scorching hooves leaving charred hoofprints on the ground as it galloped. The carriage behind, though dilapidated, showed no sign of shaking at such speed.

Of course, from its perspective, it couldn't see the countless tiny tentacles skillfully maintaining the carriage's balance around it. For a fleeting moment, the gouged-out demon even instinctively thought the horse was fleeing from the black tide that would engulf it.

However, it quickly realized… the black tide wasn't chasing the carriage.

It was swarming… All the tentacles were surging forward with the carriage, but dared not overstep their bounds, merely frantically devouring it from the surrounding area, not daring to hinder its progress even slightly.

Finally, a few seconds later, the terrifying swarm of tentacles was upon it, appearing from the gouged-out demon's perspective—a mere ten centimeters long—enough to blot out the sky.

And just as it was despairing, realizing it had nowhere to hide and could only await being swallowed up… The Black Tide… suddenly slowed down.

The horse's hoof, about to step on it, turned and slowly stopped beside it.

Then a person… stepped down.

The Gouged-Out Demon was completely dumbfounded, even more bewildered than when it first saw the Black Tide;

A person…

It had actually seen a person in Hell…

At that moment, almost instinctively, it propped itself up on its forelimbs, casting its gaze upon the human face before it.

As mentioned before, intelligence isn't necessarily a good thing for demons.

Because intelligence brings the ability to recognize and remember human appearances, when the Gouged-Out Demon saw Sherlock's face, its mind went blank. Its nerve center, smaller than a fingernail, finally realized it seemed to be bearing intelligence it shouldn't, and simply shut down. This resulted in the Gouged-Out Demon's tiny body, only a few centimeters long, freezing stiff in place, like a small, solidified statue.

"What, judging by your posture, you still remember me?" Sherlock said, holding up two fingers. Almost simultaneously, a tentacle coiled a cigarette between his fingers, while another tentacle lit a lighter.

Sherlock took a deep, satisfying drag, smiling at the gouged-out demon. "You didn't think I couldn't do anything to you just because you escaped to Hell, did you?"

As he spoke, several tiny tentacles gradually wrapped around the small creature before him, then held it up to Sherlock's face as if offering it up, preventing him from keeping his head bowed.

The gouged-out demon had only just recovered from its initial bewilderment, confusion, and disorientation when, in the next instant, it erupted with an unprecedented panic!

It's understandable. Just hours ago, in another world, it had been plotting to s*******r a human, and now, with an army of tentacles, it was right in front of it.

What demon could accept that? Life in Hell was hard enough as it was, but now, even humans had barged in seeking revenge! How could he possibly survive?!

So, the little creature before him began to struggle desperately, though it was futile, it was the only thing it could do at this stage.

Sherlock completely ignored it, slowly finishing his cigarette and then stubbing out the last bit in the creature's mouth, which was opening and closing in fear.

"Squeak...squeak...squeak..." After a painful writhing, Sherlock casually snapped off one of the gouged-out demon's legs, without any particular intention, just a casual snap, like breaking off a leaf from the roadside.

“We have no grudge against each other. Actually, if you just wanted to eat other people's eyeballs, or even mine, it wouldn't be a big deal. After all, demons need to survive too, and we humans don't usually feel any gratitude when we eat other creatures.

But what's annoying is that the culprit of a case I'm interested in has appeared right in front of me.

That's incredibly frustrating for a detective!

I might not even enjoy my meal today.

So…!” Sherlock said, clearly annoyed, even wanting to toss the guy to his black horse for some s****l gratification.

But just then… a tentacle slowly approached, cautiously tugging at Sherlock's sleeve.

He looked down, puzzled, at the hesitant little tentacle.

“Huh? Absorb…?”