[Shen Xia Fuhua] It's dawn

Everyone reunites once again at Mycroft and Greg's stone house in the woods.This time, Mycroft presented their interests and suggested that it would be best for everyone to stay together all night and not to separate.

Another night of thunder and lightning.But this time, everyone silently chose to stay in the same room. They were afraid of arousing unnecessary suspicion and being targeted by "God * God" or "Werewolf".They each brought unopened water and bread, but they couldn't eat any more, so they threw them aside after a few mouthfuls, and sat in a corner with their eyes closed.They also kept a certain distance cautiously. Now, the only thing they can trust is themselves.

Mycroft and Greg contributed the only bed in the house, and Olos, who had finally learned her fate, lay on it.

"I'm not a werewolf, you will regret your choice." She changed her timidity in the past, and finally cast a cold glance at everyone, and walked into the room.

Sherlock chose to sit not far from the back room, so as to keep an eye on the movement inside.His eyes were open, not sleepy.

John fell asleep *whole *whole*, and woke up to find it was pitch black.He didn't know when his head fell on Sherlock's shoulder. He raised his head, rubbed *rubbed*sore*sore* neck, and blinked. The flame of the paraffin lamp had long been extinguished, and it was still raining heavily outside the house. The only sound in the room is the sound of *breathing*breathing*each other.

"Are you awake?" Sherlock's low voice rang in his ear.

John looked up: "You haven't slept?"

"I don't want to waste time on such meaningless things." Sherlock pouted.

John rolled his eyes: "Then what did you find?"

Sherlock shook his head reluctantly.

"Don't be so nervous, everyone stays where they are." John glanced around.In the stormy dark night, his smile was like a ray of gentle spring breeze. Sherlock couldn't help but lowered his head when he saw it. They exchanged a *sweet*honey* and *long*long* kiss.

"It's like a dream." John murmured.

"what?"

"Oh I mean it looks like we're living through a nightmare, but I hope some of it is real."

Sherlock looked at John's *moving* lips*lips, and couldn't help lowering his head again. He was a little curious and *obsessed* with this fun game, and tried every means to change the angle and strength, looking for newer and more interesting games. like the way.

"I think this way of rest is enough." In the end, they were like a pair of *mandarin *ducks*crossing*necks*, rubbing ears*temples*together*.

"Sherlock, what do you think of the results of this round of voting?" John asked in a low voice, "I voted for Nixie, but I'm not sure."

"Oh, of course she can't be, even though she's crying, she's not lying, she's just an ordinary person with a *criminal* history." Sherlock whispered *close* into John's ear, " But it’s not surprising that you and Greg would choose her. After all, you think there is no better object of suspicion than her. There is also Olos. Out of desire for *survival*, she and Nixie of course chose to vote for each other tickets."

"So it's you—"

"That's right. He looks harmless to humans and animals, but that doesn't mean he won't *take* risks in order to protect himself and his children. After all, the opposite identities are there. Not to mention the reaction of the little thrush Also confirmed my guess, he is a smart kid, if his father is really *innocent*, he can give a stronger alibi instead of rushing to make false *accusations. After all, it is just A child, he panicked."

John lowered his head sadly, he didn't want to believe his ears.

"No, it's too quiet!" Sherlock frowned.

"What?" John glanced at the unstoppable wind and rain outside the window. At this time, the sky was getting brighter, and through the blurred window glass, the outside showed a dark, but noisy gray.

"No." I always feel that something is wrong.Sherlock looked up suddenly, he let go of John, and stood up abruptly, almost staggering because he sat too long and stood too anxiously.He walked quickly into the back room, and John hurriedly stood up, but everyone seemed to have not slept deeply, and they were awakened by this slight sound amidst the sound of the storm.

"She's dead." John raised his head and said to the crowd around him.

"How is this possible!" Greg exclaimed.

"Did someone leave his position just now?" Remos murmured.

"will not."

"Unless someone tampered with the food and water."

"Food and water are unopened, and before that, even God will not know who will be exiled this time!"

"No—I'm going crazy!" Nixie screamed suddenly, turned around and rushed out.

Remos and Greg looked at each other and chased them out first.

"Father!" Little Thrush ran to catch up with her father.

John froze for a moment, then followed.

Sherlock and Mycroft looked at each other, but neither of them would take the first step.

"Although I don't want to admit it, I never thought about you, Mycroft." Sherlock said coldly.

"What do you need to think of me, Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock was still not very comfortable with this address, he curled his lips and said, "Of course, it's about your identity."

"My identity?"

"Oh, of course, you'll say Lawrence verified that Sir Lugoni is a good man. But look at what you said yesterday, oh, don't pretend that your observations are so weak that you can't even *shot a *shot* on Lawrence's *neck** neck* *Kong didn't even notice, you said that Lawrence might not be a prophet at all, and Andrea might not be a hunter, so, are you a good person or not?"

Mycroft slightly hooked the corner of his mouth: "So, what do you think?"

"Maybe you used to be a good guy, but now you're a werewolf. You really have been trying to find a way to get everyone off the island together, but just yesterday, your speech started to become ambiguous. I was most suspicious of Lemo Si, but you're messing with my thoughts, you're trying to draw everyone's attention to God, and Olos. Oh, of course, Nixie is eager to clear the *suspicion* on himself, and Remos wants to retreat Come on, Little Thrush doesn't look like a silly kid who doesn't know anything, and I, of course you know I also started to speculate about the existence of *God* God."

"Interesting, I can switch identities."

"On this island, anything is possible."

"Ha, if that's the case, then Sherlock, you've all but failed."

"That's not necessarily true, Mycroft," Sherlock sneered triumphantly. "If you have a second identity, of course you understand what I mean, lovers. You and Greg are the lovers set by Cupid!"

"Oh? Speaking of lovers, I think you and Dr. Watson look more alike."

Sherlock readily agreed: "Indeed, we are, but the relationship between us is different from yours."

Mycroft raised his eyebrows: "Then maybe I should remind you that your lover is now staying with a group of people you suspect, and there should be only one bottle of *solution* medicine* left on him, it's not very safe .”

Sherlock seemed to be offended by Mycroft's still elegant demeanor, he turned around and slammed the door and left in a rage.

When they followed the muddy and messy footprints to the large meadow, the huge raindrops had unknowingly turned into long raindrops.But from time to time, white lightning flashed across, tearing apart the gray sky, in the suddenly enlightened field of vision.

They saw Nixie who had fallen on the grass, under the piercing gray white light, with a hideous face and panting.

They saw Remos standing in the distance, he was hunched over, drenched all over, but he was still hugging the little thrush tightly.

They saw John kneeling on the ground, Greg lying quietly on his lap, and an empty potion bottle not far from his feet.

The sea breeze from the ocean roared in, mixed with moist water vapor, and a strong *blood*smell* smell.

Mycroft's steady and powerful footsteps suddenly staggered, and he finally walked towards John in a somewhat messy manner.

"Nixie wanted to *kill* Remos, the little thrush turned out to be a half-breed, he went mad, Greg was, was injured by Remos in the chaos, but I already gave him the antidote* gone."

Mycroft knelt down suddenly, he pulled Greg over, hugged him in his arms, and looked down at him.Greg Pfeiffer's eyes were closed, and his gray hair was wetly stuck to his forehead. Mycroft couldn't help reaching out and gently stroking the messy hair on his forehead.

"That's right, I'm a werewolf." Remos said loudly suddenly, his voice overshadowing the roaring waves below the cliff, "I didn't want to keep hiding it, it's really too painful to deceive you! We count as We are friends in need, but want to kill each other like this, this is really cruel!"

"No! Dad!" Little Thrush cried loudly, "Daddy, you are not a werewolf! They will deport you, don't leave me!"

Remos looked calm, and he gently touched the little thrush's head: "Of course I am reluctant to leave you, my dear." He raised his head to look at Sherlock who was standing not far away, and then glanced at McCaw Husband, "Although my request is too much, I ask you to allow us father and son to leave. I swear, I will not hurt you any more."

"Where can I go without you? This is a deserted island surrounded by the sea." Sherlock sneered.

"I," Remos said with a shy smile, "secretly built a small boat. As for where I can take the little thrush, I will leave it to fate."

"But, in such a bad and changeable weather, can you find a place to stay?" John stood up and couldn't help asking.

"John, I'm a werewolf." Remos smiled wryly. "I always felt that my wife's death* was inseparable from this small island, so I booked this voyage. Now, I finally confirmed some guesses. I also almost know the answer to the mystery, and I'm glad to see that the Suzies and Algernons most involved in that incident are dead. I participate in the *massacre* these days, even if it is forced, it is a crime *sin*deep*heavy, I, I just hope that you can agree to let me leave here alive with little thrush, that's enough!"

"Perhaps you can stay, as long as you're locked up and guarded—"

"John, even so, when the clock in the clock tower strikes six, we need to elect someone." Sherlock sighed, "Instead of doing this, it is better to let their father and son leave now."

"Let's go, now." Mycroft didn't look up, he still hugged Greg in his arms, and said in a deep voice.

"Thank you." Remos picked up the little thrush, turned around, and walked slowly into the hazy rain curtain.

The accident happened in the blink of an eye.

Nixi, who had fallen to the ground, suddenly jumped up and rushed towards the father and son.

"It was your wife! Those people, they are *murderers*!"

"No—" John only had time to catch up and grab a piece of someone's clothes, and the figures of the three disappeared at the end of the meadow just like that, only Nixie's hoarse cry remained.

Sherlock quickly came to John, as if he had been cut by a knife and an axe. Under the pure white cliff that formed an angle of almost 90° with the coast, there was a strong wind and waves, and there were endless howls.

"Now, there are only four of us left." John turned his head, glanced numbly at Mycroft and Greg, and then turned to Sherlock.