The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 182 Ch181 Who would hate themselves?

Chapter 182 Ch.181 Who would hate himself

Roland had to wait until it was dark, until night fell, until he was mostly energetic and closed his eyes. Then, he would find the reason that was reasonable and go around.

However, just when it got dark, there was someone in the 'box' behind him.

This was normal.

But he heard a sound...

"Woof--"

Roland:...

He turned around slowly, exerted some strength on his waist, and moved one eye out of the box.

In another box.

A pair of pale silver eyes that showed helplessness and panic were looking at him.

The woman had stuffed her mouth with a ball of cloth early, and then found a strip of cloth to wrap around the back of her head and her face several times-but the uncontrollable sound still muffled into Roland's ears, which was less than half an arm away from her.

What's more, the annoying guy in his sight didn't rest either.

"Woof!"

Shut up.

"You don't plan to..."

I don't have any plans, good night.

Roland smiled at her, lay back in the box, and closed his eyes.

Soon, it was completely dark.

No oil lamps were lit here, let alone advanced lighting methods.

Snoring in the dark came one after another, and sometimes someone would toss and turn in the creaking coffin, and then be scolded by the "neighbor" who couldn't stand it anymore.

Even fists and feet.

Then two people would be pulled out by the collar by several strong men.

Some people got up from the coffin and left carefully.

Or, those who had just bought tickets from outside would find an empty seat in the dark and lie down gently - if they touched someone's seat, the person who had just bought the ticket would apologize quietly, and the person in the coffin would not care too much.

This place was like a temporary, isolated little world.

There were also some unbearable sounds, so I won't describe them.

Everyone ran.

'Woof.'

Roland heard it again.

The coffin next to him creaked.

She probably covered her mouth again and stuffed the cloth ball inside.

The next "woof" was much lighter.

Time passed slowly.

Roland sat up quietly.

He tiptoed past the coffins and walked to the entrance: there was a wooden bed, and a man was smoking in the dark.

Roland deliberately made some noises to make him alertly lift the quilt and look over.

Before Roland could speak, he raised his hand and pointed in a certain direction skillfully.

"Keep your voice down."

He did this too many times.

Roland nodded and left the entrance quietly.

After turning the corner, he turned around and went in another direction - the only place here that didn't sell tickets.

There was no one guarding it.

The original brick wall had been knocked down a few times, nails were hammered in, and an incongruous iron fence was installed - in the moonlight, you could see the crooked tombstones inside the fence.

This is the cemetery.

It seems that the owner of this land was worried about being in trouble with a certain organization, and was unwilling to "donate" gold pounds as a ransom for the sin of moving or destroying the cemetery. He simply added an iron fence to this small area and left it there.

Or maybe there are other reasons.

Roland leaned on the iron fence and roughly counted the number of tombstones.

Nearly thirty... It is impossible to dig secretly without being discovered.

"Have you figured out what to do?"

Well... the son is looking for his father. How about it?

"What?"

From today on, my name is Roland Williams.

I want to take my father's body away.

"Tallis Collins will jump out of the coffin."

He was already broken into pieces.

I saw it with my own eyes.

"Prepare a fake identity?"

Pay some money to these little hooligans, I promise, I don't have to dig it myself.

"...That's no problem. When are you going to do it?"

Roland didn't say anything, waited for a while, and went back in the dark.

It was a night of complete silence.

There were occasional creaking sounds beside her.

Halida was not sleeping soundly.

When Roland came back, her black hair was loose, the cloth behind her head was torn open by herself in her sleep, and the cloth in her mouth was half hanging beside her mouth.

Creaking.

The tip of her shoe hit the wooden board and twisted the nail. This movement made her open her eyes quickly and look around.

She couldn't see the vague figure standing in the dark, but she felt that something was missing in her mouth.

Then, her left face suddenly lifted up.

"Woof——!"

The flesh squeezed each other, and the twitching almost made the head tilt to the left for a few moments.

The loud cry cut through the night.

Someone woke up from his sleep, and the man at the entrance also looked over.

Then, there was the second cry that could not be stopped.

"Woof!"

She was terrified, covered her mouth tightly, and stood up to look for the cloth strip. In the dark, Roland saw that the cloth strip was hanging diagonally on her arm, clamped by her forearm, and then, when it was stretched out, it fell outside the coffin.

So, nothing was found.

"Woof--"

There was a commotion around.

Someone began to curse in a low voice.

Roland thought for a moment, stood up, picked up the cloth strip, and grabbed her wrist.

He felt her tremble, and subconsciously pulled his hand back - the force was very strong.

Until Roland whispered something, pulled her, and pressed the cloth strip hard into her palm.

She slowly calmed down.

Stuff the cloth strip and tie it tightly.

After a moment of calm, Halida leaned forward slightly, her pale silver eyes seeming to want to distinguish Roland's appearance in the darkness.

Roland then moved closer to the center of the two coffins until she could see him clearly.

"Good night."

He said.

Lie back in the coffin.

A night of silence.

…………

…

Roland only waited for dawn before getting up.

The girl next to him frowned, crossed her hands on her chest, pressed her knees against the board, curled up like a baby.

It's just that her body is soft.

Such a narrow coffin is beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Roland glanced at her mouth, which had been wrapped a few more times, and turned to leave.

He was in a hurry and wanted to continue riding a carriage to a certain place.

It was also his arrangement after checking the timetable.

On the south bank of the Thames, I paid the toll and crossed the bridge.

A famous place that was just built recently.

Waterloo station.

——The strips of metal here built by people will spread rapidly like blood vessels throughout the country in the future.

They pass through cities and wilderness, they represent the future.

It was also Wrench who reminded Roland.

Maybe here he can get some ritual.

The train shed was shabby and shabby.

Nine hundred feet long, one hundred and fifteen feet wide, and eighty feet high. The muscles and bones were exposed, and only a dirty simple cloth was used to seal the top - no matter how you look at it, it has a perfunctory and urgent feel, and it is not what Roland expected the 'creation of the new era' should look like.

Oh, if I have to say it, the hundred-foot-tall bell tower next to the station is the only decoration.

It’s really a bit…

Shabby.

Why is this big machine of the new era so poorly written?

"I think you don't know that the railway company is invested, constructed and operated by private capital."

Private, private, what is this...? -

I think I heard Randolph say that.

Calling, investing, right?

"invest."

Come on, tell me quickly.

"..."

Facing the morning sunshine, Roland walked in the thick fog.

"Gawain, take off your armor. I want to see what you are wearing underneath."

He hummed a song he had heard from Nina, his steps brisk.

"...At least you listened to my suggestion and called it Gawain."

"I should be happy."

faster. What does it mean to be private?

"You are so annoying."

"That's right - if you have enough money, you can also pay for the construction of the railway. The income from operating the railway in the future will be distributed to you in proportion to the investment."

"That's it in a nutshell."

Roland thought for a while.

Oh, that's fair enough. Since you have spent money, you should gain something...

etc.

wrench.

"what."

Wouldn’t those who are rich become richer and richer?

"certainly."

I hate rich people.

"Because you are poor. When you become rich, will you still hate them?"

Roland felt that Wrench's question was meaningless.

Who could hate themselves.