Chapter 67 067 Surprise Attack

By the time Balzac finally connected with the armed detectives and reassigned the tasks, it was already close to dusk.

Rubbing his forehead, which gave him a slight headache, Balzac seemed to relax a bit, feeling a sense of relief.

In any case, at least nothing went wrong today.

Considering the composition of this alliance, this is already quite encouraging news.

Thinking this, Balzac, whose mood gradually improved, began to walk towards the lounge.

This good mood lasted until Balzac encountered Holmes carrying a box of gas masks on his way back.

The weather outside was great, and the air was fresh except for the smell of building materials ignited by the explosion. The corridor was clean except for some shattered walls.

However, none of this could stop Balzac's mood from plummeting due to the appearance of Sherlock Holmes.

As for the faint smell of burning, the smoke in the air, and the flickering light due to the unstable power supply, Balzac saw them all as having ten layers of special effects added, turning them into the background music that accompanied Sherlock Holmes's entrance...

Moreover, the kind of music shown in supernatural or disaster movies during the final scene of total annihilation usually features a backdrop of the sky collapsing and the earth splitting apart.

The moment Balzac saw Holmes and the box of gas masks in his hand, not only his head but his entire body began to ache.

Looking at this gas mask, and thinking of Stevenson in the UN, it's clear that Holmes had anticipated the attack.

In other words, his already crowded schedule, which seems to be about to materialize and crash into his face, is likely to be crammed with a bunch of tasks, and the kind that he can't refuse.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm just taking precautions." Holmes, who was passing by, didn't offer Balzac a gas mask either; he simply stopped to speak with Balzac. "Besides, these gas masks are better than nothing. After all, if it were 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,' skin penetration alone would be enough to cause serious injury."

"Then why don't you just tell us when the attack will begin?" Balzac said with a deadpan expression. "You can always 'deduce' something like that, can't you?"

"Sorry, that's not possible."

Balzac: "...You want to slack off?"

If Holmes himself hadn't been passively slacking off, Balzac truly couldn't imagine that he wouldn't be able to "deduce" the ending.

“Well, I could give you a rough estimate of the time, but to pinpoint exactly what time the attack will occur, as I have before…” Holmes curled his lip in disrespect, “I can’t do it. There are too few clues.”

"I don't think you had many more clues when you successfully predicted things in the past than you do now."

"The opponents are different. Those people before, whose IQs were mostly below average, could easily be deduced from just a few clues. After all, their behavior patterns were so simple and easy to understand—not much more complex than those of foraging animals—that they were easily identifiable. But now..."

Holmes pondered.

"Simply put, it's like... after all, the opponent is Christie, so it's easy to fall into the trap of 'I anticipated your attack, this is the time,' then the opponent thinks, 'I anticipated you anticipated my preparation. So I changed the time,' and then it's 'I anticipated you anticipated me...', that's it."

Holmes held the box in one hand and waved helplessly, indicating his resignation.

"Without decisive evidence and clues to predict, it will quickly fall into this ridiculous cycle. Christie is not an opponent that can be won against with just a few words of speculation."

“Well, Christie…” Balzac sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation after Holmes’s long explanation that it was “in short, unpredictable.” “I didn’t know anything about her situation when she was a clock tower attendant. But I do seem to have heard something similar…”

"Like the 'new generation's three giants' or something. Bored people always like to categorize things and then give them all sorts of nicknames."

Holmes shrugged, then picked up the box full of gas masks again, walked past Balzac, and said, "I'm not going to talk to you anymore, I'm going to distribute the masks."

Balzac remained silent with a furrowed brow until Holmes passed by, at which point he spoke in a low voice.

"So, what suggestions do you have?"

"A suggestion?" Holmes walked forward without turning his head. "Set an alarm for an earlier time tomorrow."

After speaking, Holmes disappeared around the corner with light steps, while Balzac stood there, lost in thought.

Thus ended his conversation with Holmes, and Balzac returned to his private room with a heavy heart, his mind still pondering the possible scenarios.

Before he knew it, the storm of Balzac in his mind began to make him feel drowsy, and he eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, Balzac, who was in a light sleep in bed, was awakened by another explosion.

What's going on? Bombing so early in the morning? That was Balzac's first reaction.

Three seconds later, Balzac suddenly sprang up from the bed.

The sound is in the wrong position!

The explosion occurred in... the inner training area!?

Balzac jumped straight out of bed, still fully clothed, grabbed his hat from the side, opened the door, and rushed out.

Outside, a red mist permeated the corridor, seemingly blown by a strong wind. The red mist flowed continuously, and its uneven distribution caused different colors, obscuring everything in sight.

Ignoring the scenery created by the fog, Balzac stood in the corridor to check his direction, and without taking any precautions, rushed directly towards the direction of the explosion.

Before Balzac had charged far, a figure, also without any protective gear, appeared in his field of vision.

That's Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes was looking out the window before Balzac ran over. Seemingly sensing Balzac's arrival, Holmes turned and smiled politely at him.

"It seems she's a little faster than I expected, but the method is still within my expectations."

As he spoke, Holmes took out his pipe and began to twirl it in his hand.

"Then please go and greet the guests, Captain Balzac..."

"I will show you the location of all the guests."