The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 19 Ch.19 Collins at the Drug Store

The story of how Tyrese Collins died, and the downfall of the Collins family in Fork County, is the same as Enid's.

Faint.

flame.

Burn.

Roland also said this to his old uncle:

He told Old Pugh about how he received the letter, how he came to the Collins family's old house, and all the things he lived during the period (made up) - it sounded boring, because without Miss Nana's interesting story, there was only The next day I ate and dazed.

"I told you he couldn't become a noble..."

Pugh Collins snorted, carefully unfolded the envelope, and squinted one eye to peer into the hole.

When I saw the money, I quickly closed it, sealed it and pinched it tightly, folding it again and again.

The envelope clattered.

"cough…"

"It's enough to live on."

Old Collins coughed to cover up his surprise, raised his palm and waved it in front of Roland, "You don't have a good eye, do you?"

"I'm blind, sir."

Not knowing what was so funny about this sentence, Roland noticed that the corner of the old man's mouth raised an obvious arc.

"I thought you had to say, 'I am a slightly ill-sighted person who cannot see this beautiful world, but is still loved by the Father of All Things.' - You and that piece of shit like Thales didn't learn these bad things, maybe it's because of you The luckiest thing in my life.”

The brothers have a bad relationship.

Roland blinked and nodded obediently: "A month after I was taken back to Collins' home, my father had an accident. Sir, are you willing to take care of me?"

Collins Sr. muttered, "Then what else can I do."

"gentlemen?"

"You should sleep upstairs first, don't knock my babies down..."

The first floor is a drug store.

A huge rivet counter occupies the largest space, with copper-colored scales, rollers, and all kinds of unfamiliar little bits and pieces in a mess.

Behind the counter is a whole grid of shelves: drawers, glass jars.

There were notes on the drawer or tied with leather ropes. There were leaves or plant roots in the big jars. Roland also saw a few pieces of torn bark.

The nose is full of herbs and fresh mud.

The skin of the surrounding walls peeled off piece by piece, revealing the gray stones inside.

There was a large wooden basin in the corner, filled with dark, dirty water.

"Follow me upstairs. Tomorrow, tomorrow I have to find a place for you to sleep... Roland?"

"gentlemen?"

"...You have to call me uncle." Old Collins muttered, limping at a pace that matched Roland's. "I also have to get used to it..."

He rambled on, and the two of them stepped on the creaking stairs and turned to the left in an arc.

"I'll take care of what you eat and drink..."

"You also have to learn to earn a couple of bucks for me..."

"Either in the shop..."

"Hmph, I don't think that female priest will let you go out to do needlework or anything..." He suddenly stopped and turned to look at Roland: "Were you sent back by 'the way'?"

Roland nodded.

"By the way, by the way..." He held the stairs and stepped onto the second floor. He didn't know whether it was a warning or an instruction, "Don't mix with those black crows. Even if you have a pretty face, you can't sell it to the black crows..."

The second floor is a few circles smaller than the first floor, but there are still bottles and cans everywhere.

Or even more so.

The bed was covered with blue and gray checked sheets, and an oil lamp was burning.

He opened the drawer: inside there were many animal teeth, pendants sewn with silk threads, and white paper filled with writing—some raised rings, triangles, and stars made of clay.

The paper was dog-eared and looked like it had been stuffed in in a hurry.

Roland's eyes flickered.

these things…

"A group of black crows knocked on the door in the middle of the night. I don't want to be the first one to be snatched away by Fleet. That would be too embarrassing..."

Fleet is the name of this street.

Old Collins picked up a few glass jars, made room for Roland on the bed, and took pillows and quilts from the closet with half the door missing. "I'm sleeping downstairs, don't touch other things, okay?"

"I understand, uncle."

clear?

He looked at Roland doubtfully: "Can you take off your clothes yourself?"

"meeting."

"You still have to learn if you don't know how. I won't do this job."

He picked up half a bottle of wine on the stool and carried a piece of it downstairs.

The old Dutch clock with petals on the wall has a heavy hammer and the hands point to the top.

Late at night.

Roland carefully took off his clothes and hung them up, lay on the bed full of medicinal smell, and took a deep breath.

finally…

finally.

I settled down.

He said silently, closed his eyes, and sleepiness quickly pulled him into sleep.

…………

…

Early the next morning, Roland was awakened by the sound of the window being smashed.

Just as he was rubbing his groggy eyes and turning over on the bed, he heard someone shouting downstairs:

"Come down when you wake up! I have a lot of things to do today!"

"I put the clothes on the chair for you. Touch them. The thickest one is the one!"

He really couldn't live in the clothes Enid bought him.

Roland sat up suddenly and was stunned for a moment. Then, he quickly put on the canvas pants and horizontal button shirt that his uncle had prepared for him, put on his coat, picked up his crutches and went downstairs.

Downstairs, work has begun.

"Good morning, uncle."

"Okay, come here kid."

He lowered his head and shouted, with his sleeves rolled up on his elbows and the heel of his palms pushing the roller smoothly, occasionally biting one of his molars to press down.

"Come here, from today on, you have to learn to do something - if you don't want to go out and suffer, you have to suffer here. I see... you must be happy to bother me, right?"

When he saw Roland coming, he let go of the mill in his hand and rubbed his hands on his pants, "The simplest job, just be strong."

"Grind this little bit of butterfly grass into powder, do you know what powder is?"

Nodding.

He asked Roland to put down his crutches and hold the mill handle with both hands.

"Push, press down, yes, do it. I'll get some food, and come back when you're done grinding."

"Hurry up, someone may come anytime."

It's the same in Falk County.

No one waits for you to get familiar with it. Many jobs are taught once and you can get started. Roland has long been accustomed to it.

"Did you hire a window knocker?"

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, and Roland shouted along.

"Otherwise, did I climb out and knock on the second-floor window with a pole today?" Old Collins yelled back to the topic.

Roland shrugged and looked down at the herbs.

The pale flame wrote words.

"Scented Butterfly Grass"

"Alias: Grape Companion"

"Rules: None"

"Grind the lemon-scented herbs into powder and put them in a sachet to make the wearer's mind clear and eyesight clear."

"It is said that sweet butterfly grass has the power to affect love."

"But in fact, some ritualists use it to stop bleeding - they have a weak healing effect on wounds caused by curses. At least, it can help those poor people live a few more minutes?"

Rules?

Roland stared at the words, stopped what he was doing, and slowly turned around.

The medicine shelf was densely covered with white words.

He could see most of the "information".