Operation Red Book

As night falls, London becomes as quiet as a birdcage kept in the dark, and humans become the most insignificant creatures.

In the detention prison of Scotland Yard, the prisoners lay quietly on the iron bed in the corner.

Some people had already fallen asleep and were snoring; some were lying on their sides, twitching slightly; some were sitting in the corner, feeling sad; and some were lying on the iron gate, smoking and chatting with the guards.

"Hey man, what's up with that woman at the back?"

The prisoner exhaled a puff of smoke and glanced at the holding cell at the end that was emitting white light.

The guard leaning against the iron gate put the cigarette in his mouth and took a deep puff, the spark flickering in the darkness.

"Any idea about the recent bombing in Florence?"

"I know, I know! I was arrested the day after the explosion. Damn it, who would have thought that woman had a bodyguard!"

"I only touched her ass, I didn't get any pearls or gems, fucking bitch..."

"Tsk... So, it was that woman who detonated the bomb in the welfare home?" The prisoner lit another cigarette, the cunning in his eyes undisguised.

The policeman laughed contemptuously, shook his head, and said mysteriously:

"It's not just the explosion. Organ and human trafficking has been going on in the basement of that orphanage for years, and many children have been killed."

"Ah! So scary, this is a real villain!"

"I heard that the dean and an old nun were accomplices, and they were both killed by her. The sheriff only caught her at the scene, so there is no evidence, so we can only convict her first."

"This woman is such a ruthless character. I wonder what her kung fu is like. I really want to have a taste of this kind of woman."

The guard and the prisoner chuckled at the same time, and both of them lit a cigarette at the same time, glancing at the room at the end with obscene eyes.

The light in the room was very soft, like soft clouds after the rain, making the two of them feel like they were floating in the air.

"However, with so many charges added together, she should at least be sentenced to hanging." The prisoner exhaled a puff of cigarette, and the smoke lingered on the faces of the two men.

"No, this incident has a wide impact. Her Majesty the Queen is furious. That woman will definitely die."

The guard pointed to the sky with a ferocious expression and a mysterious look on his face, which made the unburned cigarette in the prisoner's hand fall to the ground.

"Your Majesty? Well, well, well, wouldn't that affect me? I'll just do a few petty thefts and take advantage of some women..."

The prisoner clutched the cold iron rod, his drooping eyes twitching.

"Oh! It's not your turn. The higher-ups are too busy with her case... I heard that Sherlock Holmes is defending her. During the court session yesterday, he was so angry with the judge that he vomited blood."

"Ah! That famous detective Sherlock Holmes... How did she get involved with such a celebrity?"

"I heard..." The guard put out his cigarette, leaned close to the prisoner's ear, and lowered his voice deliberately.

"Just before the orphanage exploded, the famous detective and the woman ran out from the back door, with an oriental porcelain doll beside them..."

"Ah!" The prisoner smiled in a daze, "Are you thinking about that?"

The guard narrowed his eyes, licked his lips with his saliva-covered tongue, and raised his voice significantly: "Hmm... that's it!"

"Which one, huh?" A strange voice came, interrupting their conversation.

The prisoner and the guard's faces turned pale instantly. The prisoner's teeth were chattering and he looked around with his head lowered.

The guard clenched the iron rod in his hand, his face flushed red, and he shouted, "Who! How dare you!"

"What is it? I don't know. Can you explain it to me? Hehehehehehe!"

The temperature all around suddenly dropped, and both of them felt a pain in the back of their heads at the same time. A purple light flashed before their eyes, and then both of them collapsed and fainted on the spot.

"Humph! You're so stingy! I'm just a good kid who's willing to learn from you!"

A purple figure slowly walked over from the other end. The moonlight shone on the large scimitar beside the purple figure, and the smooth blade revealed a mouthful of sharp teeth.

The purple figure walked step by step through the prison corridor. The prisoners were silent and collapsed on the spot, motionless.

"Grace, how are you doing?"

The purple figure passed through the iron gate and came to the detention room that was emitting soft light.

Grace's figure gradually emerged from the soft light, her golden curly hair covering her robe like a waterfall, with red and white colors faintly visible in the gaps.

She was holding a white umbrella sword in her right hand and looking up at the moon in the window.

"Nice to meet you, Raphael," she responded evenly, without any emotion.

"It's so cold. I'm back to the little Grace of the past. Hmm..." Raphael pouted in dissatisfaction.

"You don't have any more holy water! I gave most of it to Joshua who was half-dead in the explosion, and the rest was shared between Ivy and Henry. Am I awesome?"

"Thank you." Grace still looked up and uttered a cold thank you.

Raphael put away his scimitar, jumped lightly onto the iron bed in the corner, crossed his legs proudly, and looked very comfortable.

"Sherlock Holmes is protecting you. Don't give up hope of survival."

"I am not a human being. There is no hope of survival."

"Well...how did I say that? Ivy asked me to tell you that the kids all love you. They don't blame you at all. They all hope that you can continue to be friends with them."

Grace's body shook, and her head finally lowered. Her eyes, submerged in the holy light, showed no brilliance at all.

She hesitated several times, but in the end she didn't say anything. She just sighed and said, "I am guilty, and I should bear the consequences."

"Grace, it's been thousands of years, and you're still like this."

Raphael's voice became serious, although he still had an aloof attitude as if it had nothing to do with him.

"Your holy water is not enough. A year of chanting is only enough for Joshua to heal his broken bone, which is only on one foot."

Raphael grinned again, his fangs shining coldly in the moonlight.

"So I simply went to Michael, stole his clothes while he was taking a bath, and forced him to share some of his bath water with me... You should have seen how furious he was! His white hair stood up hehehehe!"

Grace glanced at Raphael and still uttered a cold "thank you".

"However, I took this opportunity to have a friendly conversation with Gabriel, mainly discussing your banishment to the mortal world."

Raphael sat up straight again and talked to Grace in a formal manner.

"You did nothing wrong, Grace. God is dead. I want you to understand that God is dead."