A Wonderful Misunderstanding

When Sherlock entered the so-called market, John Wick had already vanished. Since everyone was wrapped in hooded robes, Sherlock had no idea which one was John Wick. He could only head to the counter alone to register his request.

As they had agreed beforehand, the request they were supposed to register was for "information on Tony Stark." But when Sherlock arrived at the counter, he seemed to suddenly think of something and changed the request.

It changed from "information on Tony Stark" to "the coordinates of the Ten Rings' valley weapons storage site."

What Sherlock had not expected was that the instant he finished registering his request, his wristband began to vibrate. Greatly surprised, he followed its guidance into a small room, full of confusion.

The room was not large, with space for only two stools and a narrow table. Moreover, the only three objects in the room were bolted to the walls.

Clearly, although the Continental Hotel would not interfere with anything that happened in this room, it did not truly encourage anything to happen here.

Before long, another robed figure entered the room through the door.

The moment the door shut, a hoarse voice came from beneath that person's hood.

"Are you the one looking for the coordinates of the Ten Rings' valley weapons storage site?"

Upon hearing that, Sherlock did not speak. He merely nodded and waited for the person to continue.

Seeing Sherlock's response, the newcomer paused before walking directly over and sitting opposite him. The hoarse voice came from beneath the hood once more.

"I have the coordinates you want!"

Hearing this, Sherlock's brows rose slightly beneath his hood. He clasped his hands together under the robe, made a simple adjustment to his vocal cords, and a pleasant female voice emerged from his mouth.

"How am I supposed to know whether the coordinates you give me are correct?"

Hearing Sherlock's voice, the robed figure opposite him was clearly taken aback. However, a hoarse laugh soon came from beneath the hood.

After quite a while, the laughter gradually died down. The person braced both hands lightly against the table before speaking to Sherlock.

"You must be a novice, or someone visiting the Intelligence Market for the first time, right?"

Sherlock did not answer the question. He remained silent, waiting for the person to continue.

Sure enough, seeing that Sherlock did not respond, the hoarse voice continued.

"Let's talk price instead! If your offer satisfies me, I'll give you a way to verify the intelligence."

Hearing those words from the hoarse voice, Sherlock frowned even more deeply. Though he had never been through a negotiation like this, judging by the person's behavior after entering and the speed at which his wristband had responded, this clearly should not have been difficult or classified intelligence.

Sherlock did not reply. Instead, he lowered his head in thought, and before long, he figured out the key point.

Clearly, the coordinates of the valley where the Ten Rings stored their weapons were not really secret. It was practically an open secret.

The real reason Sherlock had assumed this intelligence would be expensive was because of something he had known all along: Tony Stark was being held in a cave in that valley!

It was a simple logical trap. The Ten Rings' activities in the Middle East were not really secret. The true secret was that the Ten Rings had kidnapped Tony and were holding him in a cave in that valley!

Only that could explain why his wristband had responded so quickly after he submitted the request. After all, even the entry process had not fully ended yet. How could there have been such a rapid response?

Only that could explain why the first thing this person had asked upon entering was whether he was visiting the Intelligence Market for the first time! After all, only an ignorant newcomer would ask such a foolish question and make such a foolish request.

After figuring this out, Sherlock chuckled and pulled a gold coin from his robes, placing it lightly on the narrow table. In a female voice, he said to the person opposite him, "This is the price! This is all I'm offering."

When the other person saw the gold coin Sherlock had produced, he seemed to freeze. Only after a long while did he speak two words in that hoarse voice.

"Not enough!"

But Sherlock showed no sign of anxiety in response to the bargaining. Instead, he pointed toward the door of the small room and said calmly, "If you're dissatisfied, you may leave. One gold coin for intelligence that is already common knowledge is quite a bargain! And incidentally, I really am visiting the Intelligence Market for the first time, but only because I wanted to see it for myself."

After a brief pause, Sherlock continued.

"Trust me. If you leave this room, the next person who comes in will probably be more than happy to take this gold coin and tell me what I want to know."

Sherlock's tone and voice painted a vivid image of a spoiled young lady from a powerful family, so much so that the person opposite him felt somewhat puzzled.

After a long silence, the person finally spoke again.

"One last question. What do you want those coordinates for?"

Hearing the question in that hoarse voice, Sherlock frowned slightly. Instinctively, he sensed that something was off. The hoarse voice seemed to be asking far too many questions.

But to maintain his persona, Sherlock still answered in a somewhat displeased female voice.

"Sir, don't you think you're meddling too much? I already said I only came to look around. I'm buying the coordinates; it's not as though I'm going there on vacation, is it?"

In just two sentences, the image of a naïve, spoiled young lady who had been indulged all her life in a powerful family was fully formed.

The figure opposite him hesitated no longer. After taking the gold coin from the table, he casually recited a string of numbers.

"If you don't believe me, you can always spend another gold coin to verify it."

After giving the coordinates, the hoarse voice said that casually, then stood and headed for the door.

Sherlock, still seated where he was, replied in the same female voice.

"No need. I've already experienced what I wanted to experience!"

After saying that, Sherlock did not hesitate in the slightest. He rushed out through the small room's door before the other person could.

Watching the small room's door close again before him, the person stood there in a daze for a moment. He then took out his phone and sent a message before pushing open the door and leaving as well.

At the same time, in the United States, Washington, D.C., at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Black Egg's phone rang at the exact same moment. A message was clearly displayed on the screen.

Clint Barton: Help me investigate whether the High Table behind the Continental Hotel is also involved in Tony's affairs.

After seeing the message from Hawkeye, Black Egg issued a series of orders, and all of S.H.I.E.L.D. began operating at high speed once more.