The bone-chilling cold and the feeling of absolute nothingness receded suddenly, like the tide on a seashore.
The instant Holmes regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was not visual, but a dense cacophony of noise.
Countless sounds were interwoven together.
The continuous, low roar of an engine, the hissing sound of the air conditioning system, the mixed conversations, low laughter, and the rustling of clothes from dozens of humans.
There was also some kind of upbeat but slightly noisy pop music flowing out from a loudspeaker somewhere in front.
Following closely behind was the smell.
A perfume scent so strong it almost condensed into substance, the smell of sweat, the sour odor emitted by some cheap plastic products baked by the sun, the scent of leather seats, and a hint of coffee aroma.
He opened his eyes abruptly.
The blinding light made him instinctively squint.
It was not the dim, flickering light of gas lamps, nor the bleak daylight cast through gray clouds on a winter day in London.
This was some kind of intense and steady light source, pouring down from overhead, illuminating everything before him.
In his field of vision were rows of high-backed seats neatly arranged and covered in dark blue dust-proof fabric, with the backs of heads styled in various ways visible above the seatbacks.
He was sitting by the window of a large, moving bus.
Outside the window was a strange scene passing by rapidly; vast ocher-red land stretched toward the horizon, dotted with low shrubs, with sparse eucalyptus forests visible in the distance, and the sky was a deep blue, hanging with a setting sun in the west.
"What is this..."
A low, familiar voice sounded beside him, carrying heavy confusion and dizziness that had not yet fully dissipated.
Holmes turned his head immediately.
Watson was sitting in the seat next to him, wearing that familiar, slightly old-fashioned suit.
Only, at this moment, this attire appeared completely out of place among the crowd wearing T-shirts, jeans, and jackets.
Watson's face was a bit pale, and his eyes were filled with confusion and bewilderment; he clearly had not yet recovered from the disorientation of time-space travel.
His hand was gripping the seemingly ordinary cane on his knees tightly, his knuckles turning white from the exertion.
"Watson."
Holmes's voice was low and steady, instantly pulling Watson's chaotic thoughts back.
"Calm down, relax, take a deep breath."
Watson gasped, as if struggling out of deep water; he looked around, his pupils dilating in shock.
He leaned close to Holmes's ear and whispered, "I feel like the world we've come to this time is even stranger than the last. What are all these things? Magic?"
Holmes's gray eyes quickly swept across the entire carriage.
The carriage was spacious and bright, with huge glass windows on both sides that could slide up and down.
The passengers looked relaxed, dressed in various ways, but mostly in bright colors and strange materials.
Many people held small, glowing rectangular thin plates (mobile phones) in their hands, their fingers sliding rapidly across them.
A young man wearing a bright yellow vest and a baseball cap was standing at the front of the carriage.
Holding a small metal rod (microphone) connected to a thin wire, he was speaking eloquently to the passengers, his voice clearly transmitted to every corner through the loudspeakers inside the vehicle.
"It's not magic, Watson."
Holmes spoke extremely quickly, keeping his voice very low to ensure only Watson nearby could hear him.
"At least not the kind we understand. These should be some kind of... technology, a technology far beyond our era."
"Observe and analyze, then adapt. Remember, we are tourists from London; for everything else, remain silent for now."
His gaze turned again to the cane Watson was gripping tightly, his eyes meaningful.
That cane, along with those mysterious items in his trench coat's inner pocket, was their only reliance at this moment.
Watson followed Holmes's gaze and also looked at his cane; a cold touch came from the cane's body.
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the tumultuous waves in his heart, forced himself to straighten his back, regained his outward composure, and nodded, though his hand gripping the cane still did not loosen in the slightest.
"...So, my dear fellow travelers, in another half hour, we will be able to reach the final destination of this Novit fantasy tour—the famous hometown of wool, Novit Town!"
The tour guide standing at the front of the carriage, a young man with chestnut hair and a smile that was somewhat exaggeratedly enthusiastic, was introducing loudly into the microphone, his voice resonant and infectious.
He was wearing a bright yellow vest with the "Kangaroo Express" logo, and with his gestures, he appeared full of vitality.
"My name is Mark, and for the next few days, I will lead you all to deeply experience this treasure land hidden in the Australian outback!"
Holmes and Watson's gazes were involuntarily drawn to this voice.
"I know everyone is tired after sitting on the bus for so long."
Mark made an exaggerated gesture of wiping sweat, which drew a round of good-natured laughter in the carriage.
"But believe me, Novit is absolutely worth the anticipation!"
"It is not an ordinary town; what it possesses is unique to the entire Southern Hemisphere, and perhaps even the whole world—the Novate Carnival!"
He paused deliberately, building up the anticipation.
"Starting from November 1st, which is tomorrow, and lasting until the 4th! A full four days and three nights of revelry! This is a traditional grand event that has continued for a century!"
"A century?" Watson repeated in a low voice, looking at Holmes with complex eyes.
The date on that parchment invitation fell into his mind: November 1, 2011, a strange time and space 121 years away from their year, 1890.
Holmes remained expressionless, only nodding slightly, signaling Watson to continue listening, his ears capturing every word in the tour guide's speech that might contain information.
"Speaking of the origin of the Carnival, we must mention the guardian deity of our Novit!"
Mark's voice rose by a notch, his tone excited.
"A long, long time ago, this land was protected by a great 'sheep god'!"
"Legend has it that it is precisely because of Its grace that our Novit's wool can be so delicate, soft, and abundant in yield, famous throughout the world!"
"Back then, every November 1st was a big day for everyone to spontaneously worship the 'sheep god'!"
Holmes keenly noticed that when Mark mentioned the 'sheep god,' his tone carried an unusual fanaticism.
"And then."
Mark changed the subject, his tone becoming more fervent, even carrying a hint of unquestionable reverence.
"With the development of the times, after the arrival of the orthodox faith of our great Mother Goddess Church, everything became more... um, more 'formal' and 'grand'!"
"Everyone was surprised to discover that the mother goddess black goat was actually the 'sheep god' who had been protecting us for so many years!"
"The glory of the mother goddess black goat covers this land; She is abundance, She is life, She is the ultimate protector!"
"Her symbol is that sacred, wise black-faced sheep!"
"Once you arrive in town, you will see that many places are decorated with the black goat emblem; that is a symbol of glory!"
Mark specifically pointed to an inconspicuous spot on the chest of his vest, where a badge about the size of a coin was pinned.
A twisted silhouette of a black goat, with hollow eyes, its horns coiled like thorns, stepping on star symbols beneath its feet.
Holmes and Watson's pupils constricted simultaneously; this was exactly the eerie emblem from the bottom right corner of the invitation! It was not an isolated case, but the public symbol of this town!
"In order to better fit the sacred celebration of the Mother Goddess."
Mark continued his announcement, his voice full of a sense of inevitability.
"Our traditional worship day has also been adjusted, moving from November 1st to the more important November 4th!"
"Of course, we don't do those old-fashioned forms of worship anymore."
"Instead, it has evolved into a more joyful, all-inclusive Novate Carnival! From the 1st to the 4th, every day has different excitements!"
"Especially on the last day, the night of November 4th, we will welcome the climax of the entire Carnival—the soul-shaking float parade!"
Mark opened his arms, making a gesture of embracing the grand occasion.
"Imagine, night falls, the Southern Cross shines in the sky, huge, dazzling floats move slowly along the streets, carrying the highest respect and blessings for the Mother Goddess!"
"That scene will absolutely be unforgettable for you for the rest of your lives!"
"I can guarantee that anyone who has seen our Novate float parade will never be able to look at any other parade in the world again!"