The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 287 Ch.286 Sacrificial teammates

Team Fernandez's mission in Bristol was over.

This disaster-stricken land does not need an executive at the moment.

They need more "saints" and "lamentations." The former can rebuild people's faith, while the latter can earn everything related to funerals from the huge corpse - by the way, it can do the same thing as the Holy Cross.

The Ritualists of the Maelstrom are not very active.

In their view, life and death are part of nature, and Bristol is inseparable from the gods worshiped by the Maelstrom.

The third day.

Fernandez finally woke up from his coma.

The wound that penetrated the lower abdomen did not recover very well, but fortunately the person was out of danger and could drink some water and eat a few mouthfuls of soft food.

He didn't know what happened after he fell into coma, so when Roland came in to visit the patient alone, holding flowers -

"Good afternoon, my captain."

As soon as he opened the wooden door, he saw Fernandez trying to stuff a pack of cigarettes into his crotch.

Roland:......

"They shouldn't have put pants on you."

Fernandez was very happy to see Roland: "I knew you could survive! Thank you! They didn't tell me what happened. Since I woke up yesterday, I have been thinking about you and Kratofer. …”

He wanted to raise his hand and pat Roland's shoulder, but he grinned in pain.

"Don't move."

Roland helped him adjust the position of the pillow and pulled up the quilt to avoid getting more injured - some of the survivors had caught the cold.

Frankly speaking, it would be very difficult for Fernandez to survive the 'season of death' with such a serious injury.

"I had a dream, a dark sea."

When Fernandez saw Roland covering the back of his hand with his hand, he smiled and shook his head: "It's just the sea, Roland. I thought I would never wake up again, but I was only worried about you and Kratof - yesterday, they asked I am a lot, but I never mention you and her."

Having said this, the captain turned over his palm and pinched Roland's wrist.

"tell me."

"You're okay, right?"

"The two alien species fought, and all my team members survived, right?"

But he was answered only by silence.

A long, miraculous silence.

Fernandez seemed to understand something, silently let go of his hand, took out a crumpled cigarette from the cigarette case, and took out the matchbox from the quilt.

Mark the burning point.

The rapidly expanding smoke broke through the blockade of silence.

He sucked the cigarette to his butt in three puffs, pressed it out on the rough wooden table, and immediately took out the next one and lit it.

He seemed to want to pour smoke into his riddled lungs, let them spread to his internal organs, and stop the pain and sadness that kept overflowing.

"It was my fault."

Fernandez's voice was hoarse and his eyes were blank.

"It was my fault."

he repeated.

"If I could be more careful..."

Roland lowered his head and patted his arm with his other hand: "It's not your fault, Fernandez. You did your best. That's a mutant, not a summons from a "Saint"..."

The strong man who should have been burly was like a punctured balloon, extremely droopy: "Yes, they told me that it might be a alien species...an ancient angel, right?"

Fernandez put out the second cigarette and took out the third cigarette.

Roland didn't stop him.

"But if I could be more careful and not be fooled by David Cromwell and guess that the chain is not real... maybe I would not be seriously injured and let you face the danger alone..."

A ritualist with a mystical organ, a ritualist with a combat-oriented, mystical organ, definitely has the possibility of performing miracles.

As long as the forces he faced weren't so hopeless.

"I should be calmer and attack that angel first..."

But it's too late to say anything now.

Xander Kratof paid the price for his recklessness.

Fernandez thought again about the days when he and the crows were running together a long time ago.

A captain who was bewitched by cultists, a trap, and a desperate massacre.

He once swore that if he became captain one day, he would never be like that woman...

"How Kratof died, Roland."

Fernandez relied on smoke to keep his voice calm, but Roland could still hear the tremor in it.

He really didn't like Xander Kratoff very much.

But those were his players, too.

She entrusted her life to him, obeyed his instructions, got on the train with him, and arrived in Bristol from London...

But he failed to take the person back.

"To save me."

Roland said dryly.

He didn't go into details, but Fernandez thought of countless details.

The spider legs may have pierced her heart, or made a wound on her neck first; or cut off her hands and feet, or penetrated from the top of her head and emerged from her chin...

The hand holding the cigarette shook slightly.

"Sorry, Roland."

"Fernandez?"

"If I am vigilant enough, maybe Kratof will not die." Fernandez sighed longly, a little melancholy - death is the fate of the executive, but if possible, he wants to delay this fate as much as possible, and even has a Unrealistic expectations:

Maybe, his team members would all make it out of their executive positions alive.

When you get older, you can do other jobs in the Tribunal, such as clerical work, or logistics...

"Kratofer saved you."

he repeated.

"yes."

"She is an excellent executive, outstanding and brave..." Fernandez spoke slowly and lowly.

Roland agreed.

"I'm carrying you, and she's responsible for protecting me and our route..." Roland told Fernandez that she died under the blades of a group of spider monsters because of her separation.

It was the most undignified death.

She was probably chopped up.

Fernandez thought.

And these two people ended up in this situation just to save themselves.

"You should have left me where I was and evacuated immediately."

Roland seemed to have heard an extremely bizarre story: "Don't be kidding, Fernandez. How could we abandon you?"

yes…

Considering the kindness of Roland and Kratof, they will not abandon themselves - as long as there is a glimmer of hope.

Although Xander Kratof is a bit crazy, he is absolutely reliable at critical moments.

Fernandez sighed again.

But he didn't continue smoking.

"If you are heard, you will be in big trouble." He pretended to be calm and pointed at the window with a forced smile: "Open a crack, Roland, I'll wrap it up tightly."

Roland stood up in response.

Crunch.

The lax door was pushed open.

Snap.

Xander, who had changed into a plain dress, was carrying a lunch basket and greeted the dull patient on the bed with a smile:

"Good day, Captain Dwinson."

The ward was extremely quiet.

Xander blinked and looked at the young man standing by the window: What happened?

Roland shrugged, walked around the bed, took the small basket, and placed it on the bedside with the bouquet of flowers.

Fernandez deadpanned.

"Roland Collins."

"Um?"

"Either she's a ghost, or you're a bastard."

"She's a ghost."

Fernandez: ...

Regardless of his injury, he stretched out his hand to catch Roland.

——Pounced in vain.

Someone jumped a few times on one leg not far away, and even pointed his toes and spun around twice.

Extremely dexterous.

Fernandez said in a good voice: "Come here, Roland."

Roland also said angrily: "How is that possible?"