Novel Bin Chapter 22: My Happiness
Chapter 22: My Happiness
Although it was the old priest who first mentioned the word "dreams," he was surprised by Sherlock's reaction.
Amidst his surprise, there was an unmistakable sense of excitement!
"Have you... really had those kinds of dreams?" The old man's eyes sparkled, as if gazing at a precious treasure. "Ah, I knew I didn't make a mistake. You are that kind of person!"
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"That kind... the kind of person who might evolve to the third stage!" The old priest said, excitedly rambling on:
"After the gates of hell opened, our world was already influenced by the other side. Some creatures and objects underwent strange transformations and became items that needed to be contained. And humans, too...
In fact, contractors are simply humans affected by the Abyss. The stronger the influence or the greater their perception of the Abyss, the more powerful the contractor becomes.
Almost all powerful contractors have had a certain dream... internally referred to as the 'awakening dream' by the church.
In the dream, they encounter a peculiar creature, which is, in fact, their contracted demon.
As for the reasons... I cannot say for certain. However, some researchers have proposed that hell is a world that can materialize souls, where all our human emotions and experiences are given physical form."
At this point, the old priest shook his head helplessly, probably thinking that those researchers were simply fabricating nonsense. But it didn't matter; he continued:
"In any case, the earlier and clearer and more frequent the awakening dreams are, the stronger the individual's perception of the Abyss becomes. This also means that these individuals will become more powerful than other contractors in the future!
One notable example is General Barton, who currently guards the gates of hell. It is rumored that he began having awakening dreams at the age of 11, with a frequency of almost two to three times a week...
By the time he reached 30 years old, he had already become a third-stage contractor. If he were personally on the frontlines instead of commanding operations, he might have killed more demons than the bloody butcher who knows nothing but slaughter under his command.
As for Mr. Dante... haha, who knows what his awakening dream is like. Perhaps he experiences it every night."
Hearing this, Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed, and he fell into deep thought.
Several minutes passed...
"Alright, I have indeed had those kinds of dreams, and quite frequently," he said softly.
The light in the old priest's eyes grew brighter, and he nodded with great confidence.
"Exactly! From your previous displays, you must be an exceptionally talented contractor. Hahaha, this mission truly has the blessings of the Holy Light to have encountered a remarkable young man like you. Now, quickly tell me about the frequency, clarity, and... what you dreamt about."
The old priest grew more and more expectant as he spoke. He even leaned closer to Sherlock, leaving Sherlock feeling somewhat embarrassed. "Um... if what you said is true, that the more frequent the dreams, the higher the talent... then I might really be a genius. Because I have those dreams almost every night."
As soon as those words were spoken, the old priest's heart seemed to skip a beat, and he sat up straight.
"Every... every night?"
"Yes, every night. Just a while ago, when I returned to my apartment, I took a short nap. Even during that brief period, I dreamt the same dream. As for clarity... it's so clear that I don't even feel like it's a dream. I remember every detail, the sensations. I can even feel my breathing and heartbeat vividly in the dream, without experiencing the phenomenon of slowly losing memories of the dream upon waking up."
Sherlock spoke honestly, while the old priest became increasingly astonished and excited. He even stood up, paying no attention to the intravenous needle in his hand, and stared at Sherlock with eyes filled with disbelief.
"So... what did you dream about?" he asked in a trembling voice.
"A room."
"Ah?????"
"A room... a white room," Sherlock said, then looked somewhat perplexed at the old priest. At this moment, the old priest's expression resembled that of someone who had just received a devastating blow, comparable to losing a beloved child. "You... dreamt of a room?!!"
"Yes."
The old priest suddenly burst into laughter, rubbing his somewhat dry eyes. "Yes, I truly am becoming senile. No one can enter an awakening dream every time they sleep, not even Mr. Dante himself could likely achieve such a level."
"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, confused.
The old priest adjusted his fluctuating emotions and said seriously, "I'm just getting old and having unrealistic daydreams. But clearly, your dream... isn't an awakening dream."
"It's not?"
"No... because you dreamt of a room," the old priest said with a wry smile. "An awakening dream allows the mind to touch the contracted demon on the other side of hell. So, at the very least, you should dream of a demon. Animals or something like Sister Catherine's casea plant. But in any case, it couldn't possibly be a room.
'Biology' and 'space' are two completely different concepts."
Upon hearing this, Sherlock once again fell into contemplation.
He absentmindedly reached for a cigarette, intending to light it, but the rain had soaked the tobacco, rendering it impossible to ignite the damp leaves. Helplessly, he returned the cigarette to his pocket.
"You make sense," he casually replied.
"You don't seem disappointed."
"Of course not," Sherlock said. "I'm just a detective... and I'm quite narcissistic. The number of contractors under the church is likely over a hundred thousand, maybe even a million by now. Adding one more wouldn't make a difference.
So, I'm not pursuing that."
"What are you pursuing then?" the old priest couldn't help but ask.
Sherlock tilted his head, gazing at the faintly swaying light. In his vision, a halo formed:
"Puzzles... the things people desperately want to hide. Those are what I pursue. I may not become one of those powerful contractors... power and wealth don't hold much attraction for me.
But if one day, someone in the world solemnly declares, 'This puzzle, the entire empire, can only be unraveled by the great detective Sherlock Holmes,' then I would genuinely... feel happiness."
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