The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 117 Ch.116 The eternal lie

The rustle and the crackle of fire drifted slowly.

A warm room in winter makes people sleepy.

Maomao Man, who had no tasks today, curled up on the newly bought sofa and took a nap, wrapped in a blanket.

The drug store owner is working at his desk:

Writing letters to women in Fork County.

——After he 'intercepted' a letter from Yam, the calculating old guy naturally couldn't let Roland spend money to find a 'ghostwriter'.

The job of writing letters became his.

‘How much money is ghostwriting a waste of money? ’

"You can't sit on that chair every day. The legs of the chair are loose. How many times have they been repaired? It's troublesome to move them around. With a sofa, you can sit here and have a cup of tea or drink comfortably after your daily work. Wine, a few sips, and some sleep..."

Several months in prison.

"This counts..."

Roland stared at the flickering candle shadow and remained silent.

"You are like those cats on the eaves, no one cares about you, and you can sleep twenty hours a day."

Maybe a little.

At the beginning, the topic was indeed all about Roland.

Old Collins rambled on, criticizing his neighbors for this and that, without realizing that he also lived here.

well.

"Those children have just moved here, and although their mouths are not clean... how can any of the people living here be clean?"

When he mentioned the sofa, his heart twitched.

In the letter, he stated that he was Roland's 'uncle', and also talked about Roland's current situation and how he treated him well.

Go less to shabby places and have less contact with shabby people.

At that time, Fernandez will issue a certificate stating that he is a "suspected cultist but no evidence was found after review" - in other words, this is a normal and routine inspection. They were lucky, no problem was found, they served jail time, paid the money, and could get out.

Pugh Collins groaned.

"I'm not saying that what you did was wrong, but you should stop dealing with those dirty kids, and stop seeing old dogs and ducks. I also hope that you will buy a house in a good area one day."

Old Collins walked around the counter, picked up the teapot from the stove, sat down next to Roland, and filled him with hot tea.

Taught him a lot.

Especially the waist.

Old Collins stroked the weed-like beard on his chin.

Roland snatched the blanket back and wrapped it around his neck, "I'm listening, uncle. But that's the money I earned, and I should be able to control it myself, right?"

Old Collins opened his mouth.

I hope they can spend a full and enthusiastic winter in the cold and humid prison, and then come out to face the few remaining pockets and the good reputation of 'suspected cultists'.

He just wants an eternal lie.

"Promise me, Roland."

"Don't lie to me, I heard everything Anna said."

Old Collins seemed to notice something.

Fortunately, he has me to take care of him and teach him more while he is alive.

Old Collins was reading endlessly while enjoying the comfortable sofa.

Roland tightened the blanket as if nothing had happened: "Mr. Dewinson caught him."

That Mr. Abbot, his companions, parents, and family were indeed only locked up for a few days.

"I know."

In short, the two people communicated frequently through letters:

'Half a spoon, less than two inches - benefactor! Even women know that two inches can’t do anything! ’

Old Collins rubbed his shoulders and put down his pen: "...I heard that you recently arrested a 'cultist'?"

Roland bought it.

"...Ro...Fake!"

"Are you feeling a little complicated?"

-

A little.

"Who will take care of you if I die?"

It's just too expensive.

"Haqiu."

The murder case at Chloe's house was in full swing, and he couldn't possibly be unaware of it.

Roland yawned again: "...Let's wait until you die."

Cherie Chloe thing…

Then, he told Roland not to show off his power everywhere just because he had an 'identity', and then be punished by his superiors.

In order to protect the reputation and dignity of the deceased, the newspaper only speculated on the cause of death and did not elaborate on the 'death conditions' - for example, in what state, in what position and in what appearance the two people died.

Old Collins thought for a moment: "Retribution?"

"We are a family, Roland." Old Collins gently lifted the blanket and grabbed Roland's hand. There was nothing but sincerity in his cloudy eyes: "Promise me, Roland. After I lose my son, I will not I will lose you again."

"You little bastard."

Roland sneezed.

Roland shook his head slightly.

Anyway, the rumors are getting weirder and weirder.

Old Collins raised his eyes and said, "If you're sleepy, go upstairs and sleep. If something goes wrong due to the cold, you'll have to spend money to treat it."

Roland raised the corners of his mouth slightly and covered his face with a blanket.

“Benevento has been all over the newspapers lately.”

I don’t know who attracted whom.

A chill slid across his skin and rushed to his head, making his eyes sore.

But he would never dare to 'let himself believe', and he would never ask Roland.

Phu Hugh Collins:…

There was less and less information about Roland's daily life in the letters, but they became more and more familiar with each other.

"You can't just listen."

Old Collins fell silent.

The law cannot judge two dead bodies.

Then, feel proud.

Someone rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and acted like "I've been suffocated to death", which almost scared the old guy into cardiac arrest.

"Promise me."

But gradually...

"This sofa is of no use at all. You should save the money, Roland."

"I can't say a few serious words."

"Bullshit," old Collins glared, "because you're sitting on a pile of money."

The big hands that grind medicine and cut thorns all day long are covered with calluses. When he grabs them, the back of them will feel a little stinging.

You are still young and consume too much. It will be difficult when you are old, etc...

The uncle was thinking about neighborhood relations and Roland's future popularity, but Roland didn't think so.

Let him try to take the right path and get in touch with the best people.

This kid doesn't know how to save money at all. If one day he gets married and finds a woman who also doesn't know how to calculate, their lives will become increasingly difficult.

"Many people asked me how the children were doing..." Old Collins was speechless and stared at the red fireplace. "Church...I mean, you won't kill him, right?"

Ask him to take care of himself.

Didn’t this little bastard have anyone teach him how to speak properly?

For example - people are extremely keen to discuss the size difference between these two upper-class people and the lower class people like them.

Old Collins punched Roland on the shoulder. He couldn't hold it back for a long time, and he started to laugh.

"It's okay if you don't listen. Do you know how many years I have lived? I am familiar with life, I am familiar with every street nearby, and I know the price of everything."

"...I know you are good to me, Roland. I also think about you. If you save this money, you can't live here forever like me."

Clicking.

"Young people have this kind of virtue. They only learn to restrain themselves after being beaten."

One time, Roland also caught a glimpse of a short poem attached to it...

-

I asked why my two handwritten poetry collections had ‘disappeared’.

"The sofa is so comfortable, uncle."

Phu Hugh Collins said suddenly.

"Thank you, uncle." Roland lowered his eyes.

"Uncle, no. I'm just giving them a little lesson - lock them up for a few days and scare these scoundrels who are bolder than the sky. What do you think?"

"...Today you buy a sofa, and tomorrow you have to buy carpets, lampshades, fine candles and soap. I'm not stingy, it's just life, Roland, you must learn to calculate...Roland? Roland?"

White mist rises from the spout.

"It's okay to close it for a few days."

Roland moved his butt to the side and leaned on the back of the sofa in an imageless manner.

indeed.

He turned away and scratched the back of his head.

Words can.

Just thirty ‘days’.

Roland didn't move.

However, the newspaper was not as good as the eloquent and eloquent people who were present.

Old Collins had a dark face and lifted the blanket covering his head——

"I am not sleepy."

This story spread far and wide, even wider than Cherry Chloe's.

He said.

Roland smiled softly and held Pugh Collins' hand back: "I promise you, uncle."