Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The House, Will, and Owl
Chapter 1: The House, Will, and Owl
Sherlock stepped out of the taxi and fumbled in his pocket for a few pounds to pay the driver.
He stood by the roadside, staring at the dilapidated house before him, lost in thought.
It had been nearly a week since he arrived in this world.
He had already grown accustomed to the typical Western name, Sherlock Forest.
This was a cliché story of transmigration.
Xia Luo, a recent graduate from 21st-century China, was on his way to his first job interview when he was unexpectedly hit by an electric scooter.
The rider and Xia Luo both fell into the river, turning what should have been a minor accident into a tragedy that drowned Xia Luo.
Perhaps it was a trait of people named Xia Luo to easily transmigrate.
When he woke up again, he found himself in the body of a young British man lying in a hospital bed.
The sudden change in environment and the unfamiliarity of everything around him left Xia Luo dazed at first.
However, he had always been good at controlling his emotions and did not make any extreme reactions or say anything out of place in the hospital.
After a thorough examination by a group of fair-haired, blue-eyed doctors, they concluded that Xia Luo, who had transmigrated, was suffering from amnesia caused by a head injury.
This was a perfect explanation for someone who knew nothing about his new situation and had not inherited any memories from his previous life.
Even his unadjusted English accent could be explained away.
With the excuse of amnesia, Xia Luo could openly gather information from the doctors about the body he had possessed.
Sherlock Forest, a 20-year-old unemployed and single young man from Surrey, England.
He had fallen from the second floor at home due to an unknown accident and lost consciousness.
Fortunately, a kind neighbor discovered him in time and rushed him to the hospital.
When he woke up again, the original Sherlock had become Xia Luo, who had transmigrated.
The year was 1992, and the country was experiencing an economic downturn. The superpower to the north had just announced its dissolution less than a year ago, and Europe was in a state of decline.
In August, most European countries would be hit by a financial crisis triggered by currency devaluation, with the UK being one of the most affected.
Xia Luo, who had occasionally attended a few finance lectures in his free time, knew this was the only major event that would happen in the UK that year.
He never imagined that a plot straight out of a novel would become his reality.
After two days in the hospital, he gradually accepted the truth.
Xia Luo had always been a go-with-the-flow kind of person. In his previous life, he was an orphan with only a few friends from school, no ties or obligations.
Transmigrating to late 20th-century Britain might not be such a bad thing.
With his advanced knowledge and perspective, he could potentially avoid the mundane life of a corporate drone.
Having accepted his new reality, Xia Luo formally embraced the identity of Sherlock.
After two more days in the hospital, the doctors confirmed there were no other issues and discharged him.
In this world, Sherlock seemed to have no family.
Otherwise, it would be strange for no one to visit him after a week of hospitalization and amnesia.
This was a relief for Sherlock, who had not inherited any memories from his previous life.
If he had parents or other relatives, he would have no idea how to face them.
However, Sherlock did not seem to be completely abandoned.
The hospital did not ask him for payment for his treatment, even after he was discharged.
They simply told him he could leave and handed him a note with an address, which was his home.
With the few pounds he had in his pocket, Sherlock took a taxi to the address on the note, arriving at his new home in this world.
To be honest, the two-story building looked quite dilapidated from the outside.
The outer walls were already starting to crack, and the tiles in front of the house were riddled with fissures. The yard was overgrown with weeds, clearly neglected for a long time, and the iron gate at the front was covered in rust.
At first glance, anyone who didn't know better might think it was some old witch's haunted house.
Sherlock shook his head and chuckled bitterly, snapping back to reality.
Whether it was a haunted house or just a rundown one, he was grateful to have a place to stay. He couldn't afford to be picky.
Looking at the dilapidated house in front of him, his gaze hardened.
It was just a fresh start, after all.
Before he traveled through time, he had started as an orphan and managed to get into a prestigious university and win a national scholarship, making a name for himself.
In this world, with the advantage of his foresight, he truly didn't believe his future would be any worse than before!
With his resolve set, Sherlock lightly clenched his fists and stood in front of the house, muttering to himself.
"Effort! Struggle!"
However, before he could take a determined step toward his new home, the sound of a car engine shutting off startled him.
Sherlock turned around in surprise and saw a top-of-the-line luxury car, a model he had only ever seen on TV, parked behind him.
The car door opened, and a white-haired man, dressed in a suit that was likely worth ten times more than all the clothes he had owned in his previous life combined, stepped out respectfully.
"Master, congratulations on your discharge from the hospital. Unfortunately, on the day of your discharge, your father's condition worsened, and he is now in the hospital as well."
As Sherlock stood there in a daze, the elderly man bowed and handed him a document.
"Your father says that your amnesia is not a bad thing, and he doesn't want to continue this feud with you."
"If you are willing to promise never to associate with those people again, his title and estate will be yours."
"You are, after all, his biological child, and he doesn't want to leave the title and estate, which he has spent his entire life building, to those cold-blooded relatives."
"This contract is both an agreement and a will. If you sign it, you will inherit the Cavendish Family's entire estate."
Seeing that Sherlock was still standing there, stunned and unresponsive, the elderly man sighed deeply and placed the will in his hand.
"Master, please don't hold a grudge against your father. You don't remember anything now, but he really wants you to inherit the Cavendish Family's title. If you decide to, just call the number on the will, and I will take you to see your father immediately."
Having said his piece, the elderly man got back into the car, and the black sedan slowly drove away.
Sherlock stood there in a daze for over ten minutes before a car horn on the street snapped him back to reality.
He looked at the will in his hand with a blank expression and then glanced up at the dilapidated house in front of him.
So, in this world, he was actually a spoiled rich kid who had run away from home?
His estranged father was seriously ill and would soon pass away?
If he signed this will, all the effort and struggle he had just resolved to put in would be rendered meaningless?
Sherlock's mind was a blank slate, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. He stared at the clear sky, where a black dot appeared in the distance.
A smile slowly spread across his face, and he chuckled to himself.
"To hell with effort and struggle! I'm going to enjoy life!"
As he spoke, the black dot in the sky grew closer, and an owl, spreading its wings like a bomber, glided over Sherlock's head and dropped its "bomb."
A letter, adorned with the crests of a lion, snake, eagle, and badger surrounding the H crest, landed directly on Sherlock's face, which had just started to show a smug grin.
(End of Chapter)
Continue reading
Español
Português
Italiano
Русский
Deutsch
Français
