The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 215 Ch.214 Enemy

It's not like Rose has never seen death.

But she never thought that one day, she would see Annie explode into bloody foam in front of her.

Just as the flute sounded——

Anne dropped her arms, turned around, and looked at her.

His lips moved slightly, as if he said something.

Then…

She exploded from her waist.

The splashing blood mixed with the screams one after another, and red flowers of hell bloomed on the banks of the Thames.

Rose seemed to have returned to her childhood, the time when she used her feet to crush caterpillars on the ground.

Now, they are caterpillars on the land.

The turbulent winter wind was mixed with the strong smell of rust, and it was like a rainstorm of blood and mud on her hood, face, arms and thighs.

The people who exploded one by one were even running away a second ago.

The horses under the policemen neighed in fear, playing a crazy overture together with the bloody chords.

Those who survived began to trample on each other.

Some people were pushed down, and then pairs of shoes stepped on their stomachs and heads; some people grabbed their children or wives and ran and squeezed them, only to find that their hands were empty.

The police and detectives blocked these caged rats like a wall and watched indifferently as they devoured and tore each other apart.

Some compassionate believers knelt down, clutched the silver cross on their chests, and murmured words——

They were praying for the dead and for those who were not dead but were about to die.

Rose touched the blood on her face and stood there stupidly, looking at Anne's broken body.

And the crimson dress that was in pieces.

She was pushed and knocked around, swaying around.

Her body could no longer hold the painful and frightened soul, just like her soft intestine could no longer hide the blade.

"Rose——"

Someone called her name on the water.

"Lillian Rose Vansittart—"

Not only did he scream, he unreasonably pulled her up from the bottom of the lake, smoothed her bloody hair, and forcefully turned her face toward the dazzling sun.

Those are two amber suns.

"Rose!!"

The emerald green eyes gradually focused and saw clearly the faces of the people on the lake.

"Ro...Roland..."

"We should go." Roland stared coldly at the blood flowers blooming around him.

He wore a long and big black trench coat today.

Therefore, it was easy to take the thin Snitch into his arms and cover her with his windbreaker.

"I've always wanted a beard."

Amidst the constant collision, Rose, who was stumbling, hugged her dazzling sun's waist and listened to his warm voice:

“I’ve wanted a thick, curly beard since I was a kid.”

Rose said nothing.

"Because that means I have become a man."

Roland hugged the little ostrich under his windbreaker, and with clever steps like a skilled dancer, he led her to avoid the frightened men and women who bumped into her one after another.

"Because I think about it all the time."

His voice was slow and powerful, like a musician with superb bow skills sitting by the river in the afternoon, chatting with seabirds, while using an unknown tune to soundtrack the mottled gold on the sea.

"I often wonder."

"What if I looked horrible and had some scars on my face."

"perhaps."

"They should be afraid of me."

Roland suddenly took a few steps quickly.

Rose heard a cry of pain and was quickly left behind.

"They were afraid of me, afraid of my face, my fists, even my voice."

"Like a man, I protect my Yam."

"That exciting scene often appears in my dreams at midnight."

Roland tightened his arms.

The other pair of arms around his waist also subconsciously hugged him a little tighter.

"Regrettably…"

He suddenly sighed helplessly.

"When I grow up, I am not intimidating to them, but exciting..."

Pfft.

The girl in his arms laughed.

She pinched Roland's waist gently, shedding tears but raising the corners of her mouth.

Pain and happiness, the fog in the brain is gradually blown away by the sound of the violin.

Not far away, a carriage with its awning door wide open was waiting for its owner to pass through the crowd.

Xander Kratof stepped on the outer edge of the carriage, resting his chin on the heel of his palm, watching quietly as the black-haired and black-clothed young man held the creature in his arms and floated lightly through the blood swamp full of chaos and wailing.

She ground her teeth.

Bite up and down, grind left and right.

‘A wonderful seed. ’

she says.

‘In blood and fire can the seeds grow and germinate. ’

She muttered, brushing away the gray hair from her forehead, her lake blue eyes bright.

‘A woman’s attachment. ’

she says.

'She can never fall in love with anyone else again...'

‘Roland. ’

'You murderer. ’

Mr. Murderer quickly made his way through the crowd and reached his car.

In addition to a polite gray-haired girl with her legs together, there was also a white cat yawning lazily.

cat?

when?

"Yes, Roland, she came uninvited."

Xander looked at the curly-haired girl who emerged from Roland's windbreaker gently. His tone was so soft that it was difficult for people to tell whether the phrase 'uninvited' had other meanings.

"Come up quickly, miss, we have to leave this dangerous place."

After she invited Roland and Rose into the carriage, she closed the door.

Amid the driver's shouts, the wheels began to turn.

"Wipe your face."

Xander handed the handkerchief to Roland, and then turned to look at the silent girl.

"Hello, I'm Xander. Xander Kratof."

Rose nodded and replied dryly: "I am Lillian Rose Vansittart, Roland's friend...Thank you for the carriage, Miss Kratover."

Xander smiled slightly.

Neither of them seemed to have much to talk about, and the carriage gradually became quiet.

But the cat seemed uncomfortable.

It retched a few times, and kept rubbing its face and nose with its two small front paws.

Hunched in the seat, like a cat boat without legs.

"...what's wrong with it?"

Xander touched the cat's back, tail, and head, but received no response.

"I'm motion sick."

-

Dizzy...car...? -

What's the meaning? -

The reason for the horse-drawn carriage ride?

"That's right."

"Put it on your lap and do as I say."

Roland reached out and picked up the cat and put it on his lap.

"Touch its ears."

"Be gentle."

Roland also did so.

Miraculously, after a few strokes, it really wasn't as painful as before - it was just still a little listless and lying on Roland's lap.

The carriage was eerily quiet.

Roland stroked the cat's ears and remained silent, not wanting to start any topic.

Rose needs some time.

Maybe a lot of time.

"Roland."

Xander suddenly spoke.

"Is it sick?"

Referring to this ‘uninvited’ cat.

"No, I'm just a little motion sick." Roland used the newly learned words immediately. He explained to Xander: "Some people or animals will feel uncomfortable when riding in a carriage... You see, if you gently touch the ears, this temporary symptom can be relieved."

Xander mused.

She thought for a while, then bent her arms, pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "Roland."

"Um?"

Xander's face turned pale: "I may have some motion sickness."

Rose, who was immersed in sadness at the side:...