The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 204 Ch.203 Mr. Carrot

As the central area of ​​London, Cross Street is full of busy people every day - gentlemen in suits or workers in blouses and trousers.

Although they are divided into two groups by an invisible boundary, they occasionally visit each other's world as guests...

And issued the same exclamation:

‘Is there such a life? ’

Today's cross street is busier than usual.

When Mr. William Cordony passed by (for Roland's whip, he had to go to the blacksmith to have a special metal handle made), he saw circles and circles of people--no matter what kind, they mingled together, Pointing around something, laughing or sighing from time to time.

What happened?

Curiosity drove him to turn his toes and subconsciously head towards the crowded place.

Then he knew what they were laughing at.

To be honest, although this is disrespectful to the deceased...

But it does make people laugh.

It was a horrifying corpse—a corpse that had not completely turned into a skeleton but still had carrion hanging on it.

After each joint was fixed with nails, a rope was tied around the neck and hung from a street lamp.

The approximate fixed posture is:

The hands are akimbo and the legs are spread apart.

In addition, there is a fresh, splashing carrot fixed to the bone.

As for where…

Where else could it be.

Along with the body was a wooden board.

Mr. Cobbler had to squeeze for a long time before he could clearly see the words on it: it was a sentence that was spelled out after cutting the words on the newspaper with scissors.

They were glued to the wooden board and complemented the skeleton's 'dazzling appearance'.

It says:

‘I am Minsi Chloe, the pride of the Chloe family. ’

‘I love men. ’

‘Men love my big radish too. ’

'But my father, Charles Croy, was always angry about it. ’

'Because he has a small mouth. ’

Just a few words.

Cordoni listened to the discussions of the people around him - those who were unaware were educated by the insiders, and then joined the discussion; those who were informed began to delve into the truth or falsehood of this matter:

For example, is Mr. Mingsi Chloe really as 'great' as he sees in front of him?

For example, does Mr. Charles Croy have a small mouth?

"He does."

Someone said something, which made the crowd burst into laughter.

"That's a sad story. How could the hammer fit in the keyhole?"

"People named Chloe may be a group of people with outstanding qualities - such as perseverance and not being afraid of pain."

"I promise I don't know what you are implying."

Another round of laughter.

The skeletons and wooden boards that maintain the "glittering debut" posture become more shining in the gradually rising daylight: this has to mention London's backward police system.

Due to insufficient police force and lack of comprehensive laws, it is expected that this scene will last for at least another hour.

What's the funniest thing?

'We don't need these black men with sticks on them - benefactor! We are already the greatest country in the world! Where are we? In the greatest city in the greatest country in the world—’

‘People here all have noble character, justice in their hearts, and are brave and fearless! ’

‘Do we have to spend a lot of extra money to support these people who don’t need it? ’

This objection was expressed with both hands by Mr. Charles Croy.

Then…

Ha ha.

Among the onlookers were clearly people from across the political spectrum and from the Gray Party.

He extolled the 'stupidity' of the Cabal, citing Charles Croy and his son, Minth Croy, as examples - examples that were hanging on street lamps.

"If we had allocated funds, had enough police personnel, and had better regulations, then we would not see this scene today."

He began to speak loudly, and when the people around him silently stepped back to leave a circular space for him, the man's momentum became even stronger.

He used his limbs and kept making fists and waving at the people around him.

"I have to say: The ideas in the heads of these old antiques, led by Charles Croy, are too old."

"If it weren't for my wife's sister's husband, I don't know how stupid these people could be-"

"Let me tell you!"

he shouted.

"...The old guy secretly found a liar - because it is said, it is said that this liar invented a special machine."

The man poked his head, his eyebrows flying back and forth, and looked around.

"...can enlarge our key parts."

Everyone laughed.

A tacit topic.

"Yes, yes, it can increase the size. So, this liar has in his hands - oh, I named him the 'Key Parts Enlarger'."

His witty words and interesting stories about high-ranking people made everyone curious.

They urged the man who was speaking to speak faster.

"Don't worry, don't worry. Everyone, if it weren't for my wife's sister's husband, I would have almost missed this story!"

He opened his two palms and pressed down the chaos.

"The stupid old fellow actually believed the charlatan that he could buy this 'enlarger' for three hundred pounds - of course, of course, sir. He did spend, I heard, a certificate of deposit, He put it in a letter and sent it to his servant."

"At the same time, the servant also brought back a box."

The man winked and asked the people around him:

"Guess what's in the box?"

He announced loudly:

"In the box is a magnifying glass!"

This time the laughter was almost as loud as the rising tide.

William Cordoni also laughed.

It was really funny.

He didn't know whether the story was true or not, but if it was funny enough, who cared whether it was true or not?

There were always all kinds of people anyway, and it might be true.

"I don't think he's a liar, sir." Someone in the crowd said: "That does enlarge the key parts, right?"

The laughter continued.

At this time, the police finally arrived.

They got off their horses at the other end of the street, pulled out the wooden sticks from their waists, and used their hawk-like sharp eyes to distinguish the different identities in the crowd:

If someone wore a canvas coat or woolen trousers, they would hit him, whip him and scold him; if someone wore a silk hat, silk trousers or reflective button boots, they would frown and ask them to leave the scene.

A dozen police officers, at least dozens, or even hundreds of onlookers.

Like a tadpole falling into an ant colony.

The crowd was crowded and trampled, and gradually, some people began to curse - these men who were listening to interesting stories and laughing together in the last second, quickly found their original positions in the shoving:

Left or right.

The men in silk hats put up their canes and held their hat brims to prevent them from being stolen by immoral inferiors in the chaos; the gentlemen in felt hats and big leather boots cursed and pushed away the sticks poking from the surroundings, while protecting their heads with their hands to prevent the police from using wooden sticks, and shouting the names of their friends.

The chaotic and noisy cross street.

Only the Mr. Carrot who appeared on the street lamp was the quietest.