The Great Demon Holmes

It wasn't until this moment that the people around finally reacted...

They didn't even have time to look back at the direction from which the bullet had been fired, nor who had made the life-or-death decision with that single shot. They could only suppress the overwhelming shock and gratitude in their hearts, constantly thankful for this seemingly divine gift.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

The steam armor that had just been dissipating heat immediately started operating again. The high temperature generated by the turbine turned the surrounding rain into billowing white mist. All the guards immediately activated their combat mode once again!

They were the most devout followers of the Holy See, their lives expendable for the sake of the Church. Even if their limbs had been injured, broken, or shattered during the previous battle, and pieces of steel had penetrated their abdomens, as long as the enemy was still present and the high-ranking clergy needed protection, they couldn't rest, let alone hope for treatment. Even though the undispersed high temperature seared their bodies through the heavy armor like sizzling branding irons, roasting and sticking to their skin, they couldn't evade it!

...However, the equipment they wore was ultimately too heavy. After undergoing such a fierce battle, the turbine couldn't gather enough power in time to drive the three-meter-tall, sturdy steel. They couldn't even perform the most basic movements of bending their arms or lifting their legs.

Further away, the abyssal creature summoned by Minister Bader had completely lost its vitality. Its body collapsed, leaving behind decaying skin. The spider finally had a moment to catch its breath. At this moment, its eight slender legs began to wildly dance, disregarding everything as it rushed toward the direction of the old priest. Its massive abdomen writhed violently, indicating that it was desperately producing spider silk.

However, this abyssal creature wasn't adept at rapid short-distance movement. It had already exhausted all its spider silk during the battle and couldn't produce any more for the time being.

As for Catherine on the bell tower, although she possessed terrifying instantaneous killing abilities, her contracted creature had been severely wounded, and she herself experienced backlash. She could only struggle to lean against the vine-covered wall, forcibly preventing herself from fainting.

So, in these brief few seconds, it was a dramatic turn of events—no one could truly launch an attack against Minister Bader, and there was no way to protect the venerable high priest.

Amidst the pool of blood, that emaciated figure climbed to its feet.

At this moment, it was even more emaciated than before, almost resembling a skeleton. Large patches of skin turned into nourishment, peeling away one by one, revealing the almost fractured lines of dried-up muscles underneath.

In this state, even the magnificent and healing Florence Nightingale herself would be unable to save its life.

It was destined to perish.

But it continued to go mad, roaring and desiring to destroy and be destroyed!

The rain dyed the long street a bloody red. Amidst this vibrant scenery akin to colored glass, a figure quietly crossed a pile of mangled corpses...

As mentioned before, Sherlock, compared to the contractors, was not as fast, but he was incredibly flexible and eerie. Each of his movements seemed precise to the extreme, whether it was running, leaping, or even the distance of each step, as if they had been calculated countless times.

The black tattered overcoat fluttered silently behind him as he raised his hand mysteriously. Between his pale fingers was a handgun commonly seen everywhere.

Perhaps it was his own, perhaps something he found in some corner of the battlefield... it didn't matter.

In any case, within his high-speed movement, this handgun was strangely steady. Without warning, the pitch-black muzzle suddenly emitted a bright light! Bang! Bang! Bang! Three bullets were fired.

But these three bullets flew in different directions, not aiming at anything in particular, as if they were randomly fired into the dark night and rain.

At the same time, Minister Bader had already leaped out of the pool of blood, resembling a filament that had been burned dry, and pounced toward the nearest old priest... There was only one thought in his mind now—to kill the opponent!

However, this horrifying assault was suddenly intercepted.

Because on his path, those three strange bullets appeared. He was incredibly fast, narrowly avoiding two of them, but he couldn't evade the third, and it was precisely because of avoiding the first two that he placed himself in the trajectory of the third bullet. The fragile shoulder was struck again, shattering the yellowed bone!

In the following few seconds, a dozen gunshots rang out consecutively, inexplicably suppressing Minister Bader in place!

Just a handgun.

Under normal circumstances, the power of ordinary bullets would hardly affect Minister Bader's movements. But it happened to be during this time when everything was exhausted and as a last resort...

The horrifying effects of the sacrifice continued to consume the user's life. His brain was boiling, his bones were trembling, and only his remaining nerves and muscles were convulsing.

The 20 seconds of absolute madness brought about by the drug were unexpectedly restrained by a handgun! It forcefully delayed the depletion of his life!

Finally, Sherlock's figure ghostly rushed into the dazzling light of the searchlight. His hand remained steady, his expression calm. It even felt like he hadn't blinked once from the beginning until now. He continued to pull the trigger in that eerie and focused manner, making the guards around him instinctively avoid getting too close, afraid of disrupting his rhythm of suppressing Minister Bader.

The gunshots continued. By this time, Sherlock had stepped forward, right in front of Minister Bader. The gunshots erupted at a point-blank range,

Shoulder plate, kneecap, elbow, rib, spine, eye socket.

Nearly every critical area had been subjected to several bullet strikes, shattered open before he could be reassured. There was no trace of mercy, and he didn't give the opponent a chance to retaliate.

In the midst of the silent chaos, all the bullets were spent, and on the ground remained nothing but a carcass with shattered organs and bones.

Sherlock didn't stop there; he firmly grasped a nearby standard-issue armor saw and aimed its blade at the collapsed head...

Without power to drive it, the saw couldn't rotate, but Sherlock didn't care.

He began to smash and saw back and forth! After creating a large opening, he forcefully thrust his hand into it. It was as if he had pierced a rotten watermelon, and he vigorously stirred the pulpy mass that resembled melon pulp!

In the sound of the pouring rain, that piercing and sticky disgusting sound seemed to spread far, making anyone who heard it feel uncomfortable all over!

Regardless, Sherlock continued to mix, tear, and twist, his shoulders constantly shifting. He didn't stop until everything within reach had been blended into a white paste.

...Only then did he finally stop the spine-chilling movements of his hand and slowly stood up.

Turning his head, he revealed a radiant and highly infectious smile under the descending beam of the searchlight.

"Alright, you can rest assured now."