Chapter 20, Episode 13: You're not as bad as you think...
Episode 13 You're Not as Bad as You Think
Food programs should be started sooner rather than later.
I held a web conference with the program team and news department members.
Although we are still on holiday, the professionalism of journalists keeps them online at all times.
However, they thought I had obtained some kind of privilege in advance through my identity as Milwaukee, but I only talked about the show.
The press clerks had no idea why they were there.
When the news department heard that the focus of the first episode was the fried chicken shop next to Le Sac, they looked at each other excitedly, their scalps tingling.
I pointed it out directly.
"The Baker Street robbery will definitely be exposed."
Because news of the Baker Street robbery would inevitably be broadcast sooner or later, the public outcry couldn't suppress the theft at all.
"The news department staff need to set up their own alternate accounts to dig out all the details that the general public doesn't know, such as using the timing of the tremors to estimate the time it took to dig tunnels. They should pretend to be bystanders, join in professional discussions, or further guide the audience."
Professional commentary can enhance viewers' understanding, reduce their cognitive burden, and also improve their emotions, just like sports programs always have a live commentator.
"A good program is one that can evoke emotions, whether it's a bombshell, a melodramatic scene, a suspenseful moment, a contrast, a climax, or a heartwarming and touching one. There's always another layer of content beneath the surface. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the audience's engagement."
I've already explained it to them: the editing of the first episode must keep viewers engaged, so even with the Baker Street heist as a gimmick, there can't be a significant gap in the number of views for each episode.
"We'll push things forward one show at a time, doing what's necessary at each stage. My goal is for the very first episode to top the UK streaming platform's 'Weekly Viewer Rankings.'"
I glanced at the meeting time; it lasted five minutes, which is a bit long and goes against my lazy nature.
"Disband if there's nothing else to do."
The long tail effect of this show is definitely stronger than anyone here imagines.
So far, all we've seen is the Baker Street robbery and the D notice; subsequent topics like police corruption and the royal princess's scandal will be covered in the program.
Anyone who wants to learn more and understand the developments and changes throughout the month from a first-person perspective will definitely not want to miss our program.
At that time, subscription fees, advertising revenue, member retention, and brand value will all be within reach.
London: "I didn't expect you to be so keen on making money."
I almost burst out laughing. "You really underestimate me."
"Money? That's the last thing I lack right now," I said lazily. "Milwaldton's wealth is enough for me to live comfortably for ten lifetimes."
London paused noticeably, clearly surprised that I had spoken so lightly.
"Didn't they say I'm easy to kill?"
"Since I'm constantly being suppressed and targeted like this, how can I let others have it any better than me?"
I almost got hit by a car in the early hours of the morning. If Albert hadn't pulled me back, I might be lying in the hospital.
"Think about it, since things are going to be like this anyway, wouldn't it be a good thing to make things turn upside down and get out of control?"
London paused for two seconds: "...You really are a bad person."
I couldn't stop laughing. "Why are your thoughts always so negative?"
London's voice sounded particularly wary: "What kind of high-sounding principles are you spouting now?"
"Just think about it," I casually waved my hand with a triumphant gesture, "if someone as awful as me were to finally die one day, wouldn't that be a massive healing process for the entire world?"
I clearly left myself open to ridicule, just waiting for London to smear me, like saying that nobody cares whether I live or die or something.
As soon as I said that, the air around us suddenly turned cold.
This brief silence unexpectedly made my heart clench, giving me a strange feeling that it had suddenly become concerned about what I had said.
Forgive my bluntness, but I'm allergic to being moved.
"London, don't fall in love with me because I'm too smart and quick-witted, and because my soul has a touch of cleverness, fun and unruliness."
In less than half a second, London's harsh voice came out: "Go to hell."
Hahahahahaha.
I'm dying of laughter at London.
Immediately, I got up to buy myself a cat.
This idea was just decided on me because it suddenly dawned on me that I'm actually quite wealthy. And if I'm rich, I definitely want to get myself a cat.
No matter how many pictures you see online, they don't give you the same feeling as in real life.
I definitely need to go offline and pick one out myself.
I want to pick a pet that's perfect for me.
Seeing that I was about to leave, London asked, "Where are you going now?"
"Buy a cat."
"So sudden?"
I replied, "It's alright."
It's like when you get home and unexpectedly find some spare cash in your pocket, smell the aroma of fried skewers, and then casually buy one.
Is this decision really considered sudden?
I don't understand.
And so, yesterday's memories, along with that smell of dust and metal, surged up again, vividly.
At the same time, I contacted my new driver and gave him the name of the shopping mall.
London outside the car window rushed past, and fragments of memories about "Milverton" and Police Chief Cedric surged forward in my mind once again.
"Would I be in danger if I went out?" I asked instinctively.
London: "Didn't you already have something on the police chief? Now if something happens to you, everyone will suspect the chief, and there won't be any more problems for the time being."
In fact, I wrote down the license plate number of the car that hit me in the early morning and handed it over to Lestrade for investigation. It turned out that the car was actually a police officer's private vehicle.
The officer has been taken in for questioning.
If I had just spoken properly, no one would have suspected me, but I just couldn't say a single word.
But that's a minor issue. The real problem is that last night, as I stood in front of the vault, the memory of "Milwald making a deal with Police Chief Cedric" flashed through my mind.
I believe that the triggering mechanism here still needs further experimental verification.
There's no need to rush.
It was then that I remembered that Lloyds Bank was not only involved in royal scandals, but also in police corruption.
At the same time, this also deviates from the "original plan".
Deviation 1: At the point when it should have been lost, Milvolton preemptively bought the critical ledger and replaced it.
Deviation two: The "previous Milverton" who accomplished this task was involved in a car accident the day after meeting Cedric. Thus, "I" came into being.
Deviation three: Albert Moriarty, he personally took to the field.
Therefore, I boldly guessed that this case was all orchestrated by Moriarty himself, which is why he needed to control the scene and was also worried that "Milverton" would hinder the progress of the case.
His goal was either to seize control of the police force or to overhaul the police department.
Neither the former nor the latter means anything to me.
I'm not particularly interested in having leverage over the police, because it doesn't affect Holmes at all.
You should know that in the Sherlock storyline, I was shot and killed by Sherlock.
The police department's secrets certainly wouldn't affect Mycroft, let alone Sherlock.
Similarly, while royal scandals do affect Mycroft, it seems that with Moriarty involved, there's no way for him to steal Mycroft's attention.
Do I have to contact Watson?
It's important to know that in the Sherlock storyline, Milverton was killed by Sherlock because he repeatedly provoked Watson.
...
"Sir, we've arrived." The driver's reminder interrupted my thoughts.
I opened the car door, and the bright window of the pet store came into view.
At the same time, my phone vibrated.
"Mr. Milverton, it's done."
Herbers arranged a meeting with his MI6 informant, and subsequently completed the transaction in Morocco, successfully obtaining an official copy of the D Notification and the record of the agreement call between the agent and Martin.
Nice!
I initially thought this whole thing would just benefit others, with no personal loss but also little gain. But then I suddenly realized that MI6 was behind it all—
Isn't that D notification even more exciting than having leverage over the police station?
In order to recover the royal princess's scandalous film and television work, MI6 actually incited citizens to rob a bank, causing the bank to lose more than £30 million, and even publicly prevented the media from reporting on it.
Getting this leverage is absolutely amazing!
All the perseverance throughout the night, coupled with the police's helpless "restrictions from higher authorities," has now become a heavy bargaining chip in their hands.
With these certificates, I can now negotiate directly with the bureau chief at any time.
Only then was the game considered over, and the entire team won.
All first-hand intelligence is in our possession.
Unfortunately, this feeling of pleasure vanished completely after visiting three pet stores, just like the bubbles in a can of cola.
Not a single cat was pleasing to the eye.
To my dismay, I saw that familiar figure again in the mall's open-air parking lot.
It's Albert again.
"..."
Although the case is not completely closed, I don't think I have any interaction with him.
So, I put on my sunglasses and was about to walk past him expressionlessly when I caught a glimpse of him playing with a stray cat in a box.
The cat even hooked its tail around his hand.
This scene instantly struck me deeply.
I really like these little creatures that are especially clingy when we play together.
To avoid being discovered, I hid in a corner and waited for Albert to leave.
Fortunately, Albert didn't waste too much of my time; after a minute, he left.
I immediately continued, and only when I got closer did I realize it was a one-eyed British Shorthair cat. As soon as my finger approached it, it naturally lay down in the cardboard box and couldn't help but play for a while.
London: "Stray cats of average quality like this are unlikely to find owners."
Hearing this, I was overjoyed. With a "whoosh," I picked up the cardboard box. "Hehe, then this cat is mine. And it's free! What a steal!"
London: "..."
To be honest, I don't like doing good deeds because it's embarrassing and shameful to be seen doing them.
In particular, I turned around and saw Albert, who had been waiting for a long time.
It's obvious they spotted me from the beginning, but then hid and secretly observed me.
Before he could even speak, I bluntly said, "I don't like cats."
“I can tell,” Albert said calmly, “after all, you’ve only been playing for a short time…”
He looked down to check his watch. "You played with the cat for less than ten minutes."
Me: "Is he... provoking me?"
London: "Yes, he's provoking you."
"Are you going to take it back directly?"
I pulled the cardboard box close to my chest, using my entire back to block his view, and said in a harsh voice, "Leave me alone."
“I don’t care about you.” His voice was flat, but his gaze fell on my arm that was protecting the box, as if he were assessing the condition of an item. “But if you’re going to take it home, you should at least take it to the hospital for a check-up first.”
I stubbornly refused to turn around and repeated the same sentence again: "Don't worry about me."
Albert seemed to chuckle very faintly, his breath so short it was almost inaudible. "Do you know which hospital is good?" He paused, then gave a statement that brooked no refusal. "I know."
Just then, the little thing in the cardboard box moved slightly, rubbing against my wrist. I stared at the tuft of gray fur and finally squeezed out through gritted teeth, "...Lead the way."
He led me to the familiar white Volvo.
His car had already been repaired and gleamed with a cool sheen in the light. I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to free my hand to open the door, when Albert naturally stepped over me and, with a soft "click," the door opened.
“Although the rumors outside say you’re utterly wicked,” he stepped aside to make room, his gaze falling on the slightly trembling back of the kitten in my arms, “it seems you’re not so bad after all.”
I almost burst out laughing.
"What?" I looked up at him directly. "Have you suddenly started to admire me?"
Just today, I finally got hold of the MI6's weakness and started planning how to use it as leverage in the future.
This looks like a villain's character, doesn't it?
Albert did not answer immediately.
He looked down at the cat, as if looking through the cat at something else.
That moment was like light falling into the deep blue lake bottom; it was still, yet it allowed one to see its depth.
“I believe,” he began slowly, his gaze finally settling on my face, his voice devoid of emotion, his demeanor still composed and measured, “that honesty is also a virtue.”
"..."
Undeniably, for a moment, those words stirred ripples in the calm lake of my heart, giving me new thoughts about him.
Albert is not only pretentious.
I've also discovered that our personalities clash.
A note from the author:
----------------------
My current state is roughly: I want to go VIP, but I'm also a little hesitant to do so.
I hesitated like I was deciding whether to add cheese when ordering takeout. (I've written nearly 1.3 million words this year, so I feel a little guilty.)
Regarding entering the VIP section, I do have a general idea in mind, but it's not a strict requirement.
If two or three hundred people participate in the vote, I'll think, "Okay, let's try making it a paid service."
If there were only a few dozen people, I might be more inclined to say, "Let's wait and see."
But whatever the outcome, I will respect it.
I just want to know what everyone thinks and hear the readers' real voices.
As for the content after V, I can honestly say it's basically the same daily life as now: bickering with people, winning over the Fommer family, eating delicious food, playing with cats, occasionally solving cases, and helping friends achieve their dreams. Also, this Sherlock is probably not the Sherlock from Sherlock Holmes, but rather the elegant Sherlock Holmes from the 1984 version (the younger version), which I feel would better match the tone of my protagonist in this book.
The story will eventually follow the "Sherlock shoots and kills" premise, but the ending is a happy one.
Yes, if you're still interested, you can leave a message to support me getting paid content. If not, that's okay too!
Thank you! [hugs][hugs][hugs]
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