Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

The contents of the envelope are not thick, it looks like there is only one piece of paper.

But this time, Sherlock, who had fallen into a fantasy life without shame and shame, woke up.

He didn't pay attention to the letter that fell on the ground for the first time, but looked up at the owl circling above his head with wide eyes, thinking uncertainly in his heart.

Train owls to deliver letters?

Is this a traditional custom among British nobles?

Like the biography of flying pigeons in ancient China?

After all, he wasn't an expert in studying foreign history and customs. Without trying to understand the reason, Sherlock shook his head and bent down to pick up the letter on the ground.

When the owl saw that he got the letter, it stopped staying in the sky.

Because he didn't get the reward of food, he glanced at Sherlock, who looked a little stunned, and then fluttered his wings and went to the nearby woods to catch mice.

Of course, Sherlock didn't know what the owl was thinking. He was frowning and studying the letter in his hand.

The envelope was made of heavy parchment, the address was written in emerald green ink, and there was no stamp on it.

[Mr. Sherlock Forrest, 13 Magnolia Road, Surrey]

The name on the address was Sherlock himself. He turned the letter over and saw a wax seal and a coat of arms on the front.

A lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake are circled around the capital "H".

The emblem composed of four animals looked unexpectedly familiar, but Sherlock couldn't remember where he had seen this emblem.

Knocking on his head, he shook his head. He didn't rush to open the envelope as soon as possible, but held it and the will in his hand, intending to go home.

The door key and the room key were strung together, and when he was discharged from the hospital, the hospital handed it back to him along with his other personal belongings.

The rusted door made a screeching noise as it opened.

The yard was overgrown with weeds. She liked to look neat and tidy. Sherlock, who was slightly obsessive, frowned.

But of course he didn't have time to take care of this at this time. He walked directly along the path surrounded by weeds and walked all the way to the door of the house.

Just when he continued to use the door key to open the door, a long "squeak" sound suddenly sounded from the old wooden door.

Sherlock didn't even have time to insert the key into the keyhole, and the dilapidated door opened by itself.

He was immediately stunned on the spot, feeling inexplicably as if a cold wind was blowing by his side.

As an outstanding youth trained by Huaxia's nine-year compulsory education and seven years of high-quality education, Sherlock was a standard materialist in his previous life.

Although there was a bizarre event that made him travel to the past and possessed a soul that could not be explained by science, but for a while, his thoughts had not changed.

Haunted house?

Sherlock shook his head and smiled.

How could there be ghosts in this world?

Just like adults use magic to deceive children, ghosts are just imaginary products made up by adults to deceive other adults.

It must be that the door was not closed before, and a gust of wind just happened to blow it open.

Having found a scientific reason, given ample excuses, and received appropriate comfort, Sherlock pushed the door open and walked into the house as if nothing had happened.

Significantly different from the clutter in the yard, the living room of the house is surprisingly neat.

However, the overall environment in the room seemed a little darker.

The sky is bright and clear outside, but not a few rays of sunlight can shine in the house, making it look like a medieval castle, with a depressing atmosphere.

Sherlock put the will and envelope on the shoe cabinet beside him, then took off his coat, and was about to throw it on the sofa, but suddenly found that he didn't know when, there was a coat hanger beside him.

He stopped the movement of his hands and looked suspiciously at the clothes hanger that was just a step away from him on his right.

Just now, is this thing right here?

Of course, it was just a simple suspicion. From the beginning, Sherlock's attention had been on the furnishings in the living room, and he didn't pay too much attention to whether there were hangers by the door.

He hung his coat on the hanger and walked into the living room with the will and letter.

And just after he turned around and entered the room, the hanger hanging on his coat suddenly seemed to come alive, moving its position silently, and returning to the inconspicuous corner from the front of the door.

Sherlock, who turned his back to it, was unaware of its actions.

After he entered the room, he first checked all the rooms in the house.

Except for the poor lighting, this is a very ordinary and clean house.

It's just that the owner's taste is a bit retro, and most of the furniture in the house is in the style of the European Middle Ages, coupled with the dark environment here.

It makes people feel that this is not a modern residential house, but a dark fortress of some medieval lord.

But aside from these, the house just looks a bit shabby from the outside. The facilities inside www.uukanshu.com are complete and the space is large. The living area on the first floor and the rest area on the second floor are perfectly separated.

For someone like Sherlock, who had the ultimate goal in his previous life, he didn't dare to expect to have such a suite.

Even if he didn't have that cheap father's legacy, this suite alone made him lucky enough.

However, just as he was checking the bedroom on the second floor, a strange door at the end of the corridor on the second floor caught Sherlock's attention.

It was a gray-black wooden door. If you hadn't intentionally stared in this direction and cooperated with the dark environment in the house, it would not be easy for ordinary people to find this door.

Moreover, the whole door is bare, except that there is no pattern, not even the door handle.

If Sherlock hadn't inadvertently noticed the metal hinge connecting the door to the wall, he would have even subconsciously ignored this room.

Until now, he hadn't noticed anything wrong, and this strange door had also been attributed to the strange hobby of his original body.

Just like when he decorated his home into an "old witch's secret base".

Partly out of wanting to have a thorough understanding of where he would live in the future, and partly out of curiosity, Sherlock stood in front of the door, stretched out his hand and gently pushed the wooden door without a doorknob.

The door was pushed open with a slight gap, and a soft warm yellow light emerged from inside.

At the same time, a sharp female voice suddenly screamed from behind the door.

"Xia! Luo! Ke!"

The unsuspecting Sherlock was taken a few steps backwards by this scream, his back was close to the wall, his whole body exploded with hair!

In this room...

Someone!

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