Watson's gaze locked onto a corner peeking out from a precarious pile of notes and books beside Holmes.
"What... is this?" He leaned forward and carefully pulled out the piece of paper.
"...A Carnival invitation?"
Holmes's fingers, which had been turning the pages, stopped abruptly.
"A Carnival invitation? I don't recall bringing this back."
His eyes snapped up from the complex star chart as if drawn by a magnet, precisely locking onto the paper in Watson's hand.
That gaze held the sharp glint of a hound catching the scent of prey, mixed with a hint of gravity, or even... vigilance.
"Give it to me."
Holmes's voice was low, carrying an unquestionable tone of command, as he reached out his hand.
Watson handed it over as instructed.
Holmes did not look at the contents immediately; instead, he first touched it, feeling its texture, then brought the invitation to his nose and sniffed it lightly.
"Sheepskin."
"Treated. It used a special tanning method mixed with specific spices; the scent was deliberately masked for the most part, but the core, gamey undertone cannot be completely removed."
He laid the invitation flat on the book open on his lap and examined it carefully in the light; Watson also leaned in to look.
The paper itself was indeed sheepskin, as Holmes had said, feeling thick and coarse. On it, written in black ink with extremely ornate and complex calligraphy, were the words:
[Respectfully inviting our distinguished guest:
Bathe in the radiance of the Southern Cross, and share in the joy of abundance!
Novate Carnival — A century of heritage, a grand revelry in the land of wool!
We cordially invite everyone to the Novate Carnival to experience unique passion, simplicity, and the ultimate celebratory masterpiece!
Specially presented: A soul-shaking float parade!
Location: Australia, Novit Town.
Date: November 1st to 4th, 2011.
We look forward to your presence to add luster to the celebration!
— The Carnival Organizing Committee]
The text was highly decorative, with every letter's beginning and ending featuring exaggerated curls.
In the bottom right corner of the invitation was a striking insignia: a silhouette of a sheep in a twisted posture. Its eye position was a hollow void, its horns coiled like thorns, and beneath its feet, it trampled several star-like symbols.
"Australia? Novit?" Watson raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Sherlock, when did we ever get to know any Carnival Organizing Committee in Australia? How did this invitation appear here?"
"And this date... November 2011? It is currently mid-October 1890. The month matches, but this year..."
Holmes's slender fingers gently stroked the twisted black goat insignia.
"Either it is a low-level error by the writer, or it is an anomalous event."
"Before, I might have thought it was the former."
"But after experiencing all this, I think the latter is more likely."
Having said that, Holmes pulled that special pocket watch from his pocket; the watch's cold brass casing pressed tightly against his palm.
The faint but stubborn "ticking" sound was clearly audible in the deathly quiet study of 221B, as if a tiny heart were beating.
The pocket watch had been stagnant since returning fifteen days ago, but now it had started running again.
"It seems that completing the previous event has enhanced the pocket watch's function, or perhaps our... level, or rather, our authorization, has been upgraded."
"What upgrade?"
"This invitation should be a preview of the upcoming next event."
Watson felt a chill crawl up his spine: "The next event? Like... the one in Boston?"
"I think so." Holmes's gaze became incredibly deep.
"Then..."
He looked around at this ruin of knowledge, his gaze sweeping over the scattered astronomical charts, theological texts, and alchemy symbol notes, finally settling back on that deep purple the book of eibon.
"Preparations cannot be delayed."
Without the slightest hesitation, he walked straight toward an oak cabinet in the corner of the room, half-hidden by books, and opened the cabinet door, which gave a slight creak.
Watson saw that inside it were not clothes, but various peculiar items arranged.
Polished brass instruments, crystal bottles containing unknown liquids, rolled-up parchment scrolls, and even a few cold weapons that looked quite aged.
Holmes rummaged through it for a moment and finally pulled out a black cane with a rather sophisticated appearance.
The cane was made entirely of dark hardwood, with a smooth brass knob at the top, looking no different from those used daily by London gentlemen.
He weighed it in his hand, turned around, and handed it directly to Watson.
"Take it, Watson."
Watson was stunned and subconsciously took the cane; it felt heavy in his hand, with more weight than an ordinary cane.
"For me? Sherlock, you know I don't usually use a cane, my leg injury has long since..."
"This is not for you to support your body," Holmes interrupted him. "Look at the top."
Watson looked down in confusion, carefully examining the brass knob.
At the connection point where the handle met the wooden shaft, he noticed an extremely tiny, raised button that was almost integrated into the brass itself; if Holmes hadn't specifically pointed it out, he would never have discovered it.
"Press it," Holmes instructed.
Watson complied, using his thumb to press down hard on the tiny protrusion.
Click!
A crisp mechanical sound.
Immediately following, a force emanated from inside the cane.
Watson felt a jolt in his hand as he saw the smooth brass knob, along with a small section of the shaft below it, being exquisitely pulled out!
And what remained in Watson's hand was, shockingly, a rapier flashing with a cold, piercing light!
The blade was slender and tough, clearly forged from high-quality steel, and the part hidden in the cane sheath was flawless, with no sense of stagnation.
"A cane sword?"
Watson raised his eyebrows in surprise; the weight and balance of the blade were excellent, clearly the work of a master.
"This is indeed a practical disguise, Sherlock, but for dealing with the things we might encounter, an ordinary steel sword is likely..."
"Actually, it is not an ordinary cane sword either." The corners of Holmes's mouth seemed to curl into an imperceptible arc.
He stepped closer, his slender fingers pointing to the position on the hilt near the guard, where a gemstone had been cleverly inlaid into the originally plain brass handle.
A blood-drop-shaped gemstone.
It was not a dazzling diamond or ruby, but presented a deep, dark red hue, with a faint halo seemingly flowing slowly inside the gemstone.
Watson's breath hitched, and his pupils constricted instantly.
"This is...!"
Watson's voice trembled with disbelief.
"Claire's... that pendant?!"
"Exactly." Holmes's voice was calm and waveless.
"It was left on the ground after the event ended, and I recovered it."
"After preliminary research, combined with some alchemy texts and records from the book of eibon, I discovered it is not merely an ornament."
"It seems... to possess a rare property, capable of storing specific 'energy' or 'imprints,' similar to certain magical containers from legends."