The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 148 Ch.147 Salon

Ms. Jasmine is a gentle woman who is "consistent" with the rumors.

At least she looks like that.

She has light brown hair, a slender figure, upturned eyes, and speaks softly - she did not look at the "bloated" Mr. Henry Evans with strange eyes, and she also felt sorry for the contempt from the people around her.

She personally received the brother and sister, and after receiving the "reply", she smiled meaningfully - Roland drew a symbol on his chest according to what Enid told him.

Ms. Jasmine did not give more responses, but nodded slightly, while talking about today's visitors, she led them into the salon.

The brightly lit manor divided the darkness from the iron gate.

Roland guessed that the lights alone cost more than two weeks of his salary.

Some ladies with gorgeous makeup held fans, and some gentlemen held high-footed glasses.

Some melodious music, some pleasant or loud laughter.

This is no different from the salon at Chloe's house that Roland had attended.

He was no longer curious about it.

"I rarely come here."

Shandel took Roland's arm and whispered, scanning the straight or elegant people around him: "...Grandpa often asked me to participate, but I'm a little uncomfortable."

She said.

"They would surround me and dazzle me. I don't know what to say, nor how to say it."

Roland looked forward, his thin lips moved slightly: "Me too, Miss Kratov. I'm not used to this kind of life. I always feel uncomfortable all over, like wrapped in a layer of wax liquid. I wish it would last a long time, and I would be firmly solidified in this shell."

Shandel showed his little white teeth, his eyebrows curved: "I like your metaphor, brother."

Roland raised his chin towards the garden where the laughter came from: "Like music as much as you like me, sister. That is the blood given to artists by God."

He and his sister came to the band with his belly bulging, observing vaguely.

Listened to a few songs.

"I didn't notice that Benevento." Roland moved his arm slightly and said softly.

"If he doesn't come, it might be a good thing." Shandel replied.

During the change of songs, several gentlemen came up to chat.

Roland learned to deal with it according to the method of Cherry Chloe in his memory, which was not good or bad - Henry Evans was originally a country boy, so...

Probably okay?

"The maid seems to be a little bit wrong, have you noticed it, brother."

"Of course."

"Let's get closer and take a look around these people."

Both ritualists found the problem with the servants - those who served Ms. Jasmine and those who stood in the main hall to receive guests, they exuded extremely weak "secrets".

Apprentices.

They could not control their new power well, and they were always subconsciously stimulating it, trying to fiddle with it or use it to replace their eyes and hands - this was really obvious in Roland's eyes.

How did Shandel find it?

"Eyes." The girl smiled sweetly and looked forward: "When normal people look at their own kind, they will never look like they are looking at a plate of grilled steak."

Roland looked strange.

"Ask her if she can see a little bit of coldness in your eyes."

-

I am on a mission.

"I will help you to relieve your boredom."

-

Vegetables.

"I can shut up."

The two walked around the main hall and had a "close" contact with the servants.

"There are seven in total."

Xindel's voice was weak, half leaning on Roland, like a girl clinging to her brother: "Probably an apprentice... maybe holding a gun."

Roland nodded slightly.

"That Ms. Jasmine... what do you think?"

They had just had a close contact with the hostess of the banquet, but Xindel didn't feel anything "special" from her.

She must be a ritualist.

She must be above them.

But, it's not clear which ring she is in.

Xindel muttered: "Lady Enid said 'low ring'."

That is, below the fifth ring.

"You trust Ms. Enid more than Mr. Crow." Roland chuckled and said, "You should be an executive officer."

Xindel tightened Roland's arm: "I am already one, brother. Of course I want to be an executive officer, hunting cultists and aliens like you - when I embarked on the path of "Saint", I once thought that I would never have the opportunity to work with an executive officer again..."

"I didn't expect it -"

Roland was quite puzzled about Xindel joining Fernandez's team.

"Yes, it was my grandfather who fulfilled my wish."

Xindel could see Roland's doubts.

This was also the doubt of many people around her.

"They still don't understand until now, why a candidate for the saint of the monastery, a ritualist with a bright future, would step into the mud and dye her clean and pure skirt black. "

"Candidate for the saint. "

"New knowledge points have emerged."

"The Parliament of Truth has its members and the Speaker; the Court of Inquisition has its Chief Judge; the Church and the Monastery should also have the person who is 'closest to the gods'--" Shandel said, smiling at a young man who had been staring at him for a long time, and shook his head slightly with apologetic expression.

So, someone's heart was broken.

He only had more than 9,000 hearts left.

"The person closest to the gods: that is, the one who stood out after passing the monastery selection."

"She will become a saint of the church, preside over the 'dedication ceremony' every year, serve God with her body, and have some authority of the church and the monastery."

Roland kept quiet until she finished.

"It sounds good, Miss Kratov."

Roland certainly couldn't ask her whether she was defeated or thought she would be defeated, so she left the monastery and joined the Inquisition; nor could he continue to expand on this topic, otherwise it would evolve into something that Fernandez cared about: doubting the purpose of Archbishop Kratov.

Roland recently got an egg, had his first kiss in his life, lost Cherry Chloe, faced the blue-blooded nobles, and personally fought with the seven-ring ritualist (being beaten unilaterally).

He really didn't want to get himself into more trouble.

But Shandel Kratov didn't seem to let him go.

"You're perfunctory."

The sharp gray-haired (blonde) lady seemed to be able to see through Roland's fake face and see his unnatural expression.

Or, through his uncovered eyes.

Roland pressed the tip of his shoe and relaxed his ankle on the soft grass (the gardener of this house was very hardworking): "I can't say those inappropriate words to you."

The girl turned her head to look at him. There was a faint eagerness and inquiry in her lake blue eyes.

"Ask me."

"The inappropriate kind."

Roland frowned: "Miss Kratov?"

He felt something was wrong.

The arm wrapped around his arm gradually tightened.

"Ask me." Her voice was a little loud.

Roland glanced around, took Shandel's hand without leaving a trace, and dragged her away from the crowd, deep in the garden, to a place where few people went.

"You must want to ask me: Did you fail the selection?"

She was still talking.

"You must want to know, right?"

"Why didn't she pass the selection?"

"What did Cinder Kratov do? Was she considered 'unclean' by the monastery and whipped? Or was she cornered by a group of candidate saints, pushed down, stuffed with smelly, dirty socks, and trampled with their feet? Did she kneel at the selection site and be insulted in public with the most intense words..."

Roland walked faster and faster.

In the black night, Cinder Kratov's eyes were as bright as two clear gems waiting to be appreciated and discovered. With unspeakable desire, she stared at the man in front of her.

"Roland."

-

I know.

-

There is a problem here.

"You are stepping into a huge ritual."

-I remember my eyes can...

"'There is a probability of witnessing mysterious and invisible rituals', Roland."

"Probability, do you understand?"

"If you sneak into the bathroom of Taylor's house, you may see an empty bathroom, or you may see Beatrice holding the American continent and washing herself... or it may be her brother."

-Brothers and sisters will not use the same bathroom, wrench.

"I am talking to you about the bathroom now??"