"Because of me, you lost a customer."

Sherlock Holmes looked up to Watson's eyes. There was a flash where he didn't understand what Watson meant.

... Is he trying to say sorry? ...

"Not your fault. However, if the devil's curse would really hit him? I don't know how to help." Sherlock Holmes joking before serious expression.

"But I think Malcolm's story is more than a demonic curse ... it's someone James recommended."

Sentences after Sherlock Holmes spoke to himself softly. Reminiscent of his closest friend in the Free Man Hand Organization.

As for Watson, he recalled the face of a man named James Moriarty. In his unshaken memories, Watson had never spoken to the man even once. Indeed, with Sherlock Holmes, Watson had never had conversations like this.

"Watson, your presumption of Malcolm a while ago. Not bad at all." complimented Sherlock Holmes. "Cut out the impossible like the devil curse. Distinguish feelings of fear from facts, not ignoring the slightest traces like a needle mark. Include the assumption that Malcolm drank heavily and took drugs that could have hallucinations. I was not wrong about you."

"But Norville Malcolm said it happened before he drank and took drugs," Watson argued. "I don't think he lied."

"So I said it wasn't bad."

Although it was not the correct answer, Sherlock Holmes smiled with a satisfied expression. He thinks that his partner is evolving positively. Holmes look out of the window and spoke in disguise.

"There is still a background in this story."

Watson looked at the young man's side, the detective, who had no intention of expanding more, asked.

"I ... don't understand why humans believe in curses or devil? "

"Because 'They don't know.' human afraid of their own ignorance," replied Sherlock Holmes coolly. "Things that cannot be seen, cannot be touched, something different from themself. Because they don't know if that is good or bad, they don't know what effect it will have on them. Because they didn't know anything, so they name that fear devil."

Watson listened to the explanation and then thought to himself. He's a doll, has no fear, so he doesn't believe in the mysteries that human beings fear. A brutal and terrifying devil, he thought if there were most closely defined, it would be himself, a human-made murder weapon.

"Are you 'scared'?" Watson asks.

"Huh. When a child, I used to have nightmares. I saw a huge devil coming to eat me. I was so scared, and my brother told me to put a blanket over; the devil will not find me." Sherlock Holmes tells the story of his childhood with a wild smile. In his eyes, he recalled the memories of his youth.

"Ah, but I have never met a real devil, so I don't feel anything. If there a chance, I want to prove the truth about the devil as well."

The black-haired man spoke in a voice that could not be heard whether he was serious or chatted. Then he stood up and walked to pick up his coat; his eyes sparkled like a child about to go out and try a new toy.

"Okay, Watson. After this, I'm going to use the lab at a nearby hospital," Sherlock Holmes raised his hand when he saw his partner about to follow him. "It's okay; you don't have to follow along."

"Why do you need a hospital lab?" Watson asked. If Holmes wanted to experiment, there was one fully equipped place. "Organization ..."

"It's personal research." Sherlock Holmes waved his hand, stopping from speaking the secret organization name.

"You know if I can find a chemical that can precipitate red blood cells. It will test blood stains more effectively than using sap—the dark stains on the shirt of a murder suspect over the past several months. If I have a way to check if it's blood stains or not, things will get smoother. Like the Frankfurt case last year, if I had evidence, the criminals would have been hanged."

Watson listened to a villain's story as he watched the other person pick up a plaid hat. He followed Sherlock Holmes to the doorstep. There was a pile of letters in the mailbox, the detective took it out and handed it to him.

"While I haven't back, please sort out the letter for me. Look in my bedroom too; clients will write letters of meeting. I was so busy that I didn't read. Please help me make the schedule; thank."

Watson, looking at Sherlock Holmes walked away without questioning the order.

.................................................................

That night at the Malcolm family house.

In his bedroom, Norville Malcolm was looking at the bed he hadn't used for several days. Every night when the darkness devours the light, he would sit in this chair, and on the next small table, there were bottles and many empty bottles, and lately have the needles too.

People around him said he gone crazy and left. When he was afraid of dying alone, there was a bright guide, he ran along that path, expecting to find someone who could help him. Instead, it was seen with scornful eyes, just as if looking at an animal doing something stupid

"Damn it !!!"

Norville threw the empty glass with anger. The glass hit the wall before it shattered. He grabbed a whole bottle of whiskey and poured it into his mouth. That was the moment he saw something flickering through the second-floor window.

"Gasp..."

Norville pale. Tonight, he saw the black shadow more clearly than any other night. The trembling lips themselves tried to squeeze the cry for help, but he realized no one else in this house. Suddenly

Clomp ... Clomp ...

He heard footsteps. Norville felt that the blood had disappeared from his body until the whole body was cold.

Clomp ... Clomp ... Clomp ... Clomp

The sound of footsteps is louder. Just a few more steps would have arrived in front of his room.

...Click...

The last step stopped in front of the room. Stopped there as if wanting to see his reaction. Norville knew that thing was smiling and staring at him through the door. He took a step back; whiskey spilled onto the carpet. He took another step back, hear the sound of the knob moving slowly, he didn't dare even to breathe.

Bang!!!

The windows were hit by something from outside. Norville was startled. Opened his mouth and screamed, but there was no sound. At the same time, he found that the door opened. The face he saw was the face of a devil.

"Aaaaaaaaah !!!"