"Knock, knock, knock—"
In the morning, the sound of knocking on the door disturbed Russell's peaceful slumber.
He frowned, lifting his head to glance toward the bedroom door. Not long after, the knocking sounded again.
"Knock, knock, knock—"
Good. Judging by the sound, it wasn't his door being knocked on; it was Charlotte's.
Then he wouldn't bother.
Continue sleeping.
Russell yawned, then rolled over in bed, preparing to catch a second sleep.
After waking up later, he would go downstairs to buy a newspaper, and buy a sandwich with double bacon and ham to ruthlessly reward himself.
Last night, the Malice Points had actually already arrived.
A full six hundred points.
Adding the Malice Points Timmy Roy provided at the Icebreaker Party, as well as the earnings expected from The Times and Mycroft.
This operation, conservatively estimated, could earn over a thousand Malice Points.
Enough to upgrade himself from head to toe.
Life was really getting more and more hopeful.
Russell lay under the covers, looking at his gradually filling Malice Points, and couldn't help humming a light tune.
However, just then, the knocking outside sounded again.
This time was different from the previous two; it sounded slightly impatient, and the force was obviously a bit stronger.
"Knock, knock, knock—!"
Clearly, if the other party continued like this, his plan to go back to sleep would be ruined.
Helpless, Russell had to reluctantly leave the warmth of his blankets, drape an overcoat over himself, and walk to the door.
A man in a sharp suit, exuding an elite aura from head to toe, was standing at the door.
Hearing the sound of the door opening behind him, he turned around and revealed an apologetic smile to Russell.
"Sorry to disturb your rest."
"It's fine, I don't mind." Russell shook his head, looked at the man, and then looked at the tightly closed door next to him.
"Are you looking for Charlotte?"
"Yes," the man nodded. "Is she not home?"
"I think the probability of her sleeping like the dead is higher than the probability of her going out this early," Russell said plainly.
Hearing this, the man raised his eyebrows, then nodded slightly.
"I agree with that statement."
"Are you here to commission a case?" Russell asked. "If it's convenient, you can tell me your name and contact information. When that guy wakes up, I'll pass it on for you."
"I don't really like to trouble others, so thank you for your kindness." The man smiled and shook his head.
"I am Mycroft Holmes, Charlotte Holmes's brother."
"Mycroft Holmes..." Russell repeated the name, his brain not yet fully awake.
But immediately after, he froze abruptly, eyes widening as he looked at the other party.
"Wait, you are Mycroft Holmes?!"
"You've heard Charlotte mention me?" Mycroft smiled.
"More or less... She said you are the British Government itself."
"Unsurprising." Mycroft shrugged helplessly.
"I am Russell Watson." Russell also gave his name.
"A pleasure, Mr. Watson. Thank you, and Mrs. Hudson, for taking care of my disappointing sister," Mycroft said.
"How did you know..."
"Do you think she looks like she can take care of herself?"
"Okay..."
Russell and Mycroft looked at each other, then laughed in unison.
"Ahem, back to business—is she always this..." Mycroft pointed to the door. "Lethargic?"
"We attended the Imperial College Icebreaker Party last night. The party ended at eight, and we got back to Baker Street around eight-thirty," Russell said.
"If you want to ask me when she fell asleep, then I don't know. After all, you're her brother, you also know Charlotte's schedule is more or less..."
"Whimsical."
"Whimsical, yes, a perfect summary." Russell nodded, then looked at the door.
"I estimate she won't wake up for a while. Do you have urgent business with her?"
"Not exactly urgent. Just consider it a brother coming to visit his sister," Mycroft said. "After all, it's rare to have a day off."
"A day off, you?" Russell looked at Mycroft with some surprise.
Mycroft seemed to know what he was thinking, simply smiling faintly as he responded:
"Even the gears of a machine need oiling occasionally, to prevent rust."
The two stood at the door chatting idly just like that.
Russell had to admit, Mycroft was indeed a man of the establishment; talking to him brought an indescribable sense of comfort.
This was probably the so-called art of conversation.
Just like that, ten minutes passed. Charlotte's door remained tightly closed, and the expressions on both their faces gradually became complicated.
"Are you sure... she's really just asleep?" Mycroft looked at Russell.
"Honestly... I'm not sure—Mrs. Hudson should have a spare key, I'll go find her."
Just as he was about to move, both of them heard the sound of the door handle turning at the same time.
Then, the door that had been tightly closed was pulled open violently.
Charlotte, wearing a nightgown, stood at the door, her grey-blue eyes filled with coldness and dissatisfaction.
"Charlotte, you weren't asleep?" Russell stopped and looked back at Charlotte.
"I woke up half an hour ago," Charlotte said coldly.
"Then what were you doing?" Mycroft asked. "I knocked three times."
"I was watching how long you two could stand at the door speaking ill of me."
Charlotte crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe, looking expressionlessly at the two people in the hallway.
"..."
Russell and Mycroft exchanged a glance, each reading the same emotion in the other's eyes—awkwardness.
"Boring."
Charlotte snorted coldly, then turned and walked back into the room. She didn't close the door, obviously tacitly allowing the two to enter.
Mycroft turned back and made a "please" gesture to Russell, a helpless bitter smile on his face.
Russell shrugged and followed him inside.
The room was the familiar chaos, but Russell was already accustomed to it.
As for Mycroft, although he was somewhat surprised, he seemed to have mentally prepared himself.
"So, what makes you sacrifice your few days off to come trouble me?"
Charlotte leaned against the table, casually picking up a cup of hot coffee to blow on it, then took a sip.
In response, Mycroft unhurriedly found a seat and sat down, then asked:
"Did you read today's newspaper?"
"No, because someone didn't buy it for me," Charlotte said, then looked at Russell. "Including hot coffee and breakfast."
"Why should I buy it for you?" Russell raised an eyebrow.
"As an assistant, isn't that expected?" Charlotte said as a matter of course.
"?"
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