The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 291 Ch.290 Current Situation

What would a city with thousands of people dead look like?

What would it look like in a land that had just experienced a great disaster?

Roland was lying on the railing of the four-story balcony blowing the air.

Looking down from the gray stone building to the street, people become extremely small.

He suspected that the people he met in the salon looked at all the living things around them with such eyes.

A gentleman in neat clothes and a top hat was haggling with a man in a felt hat - the items they were trading were three helpless black men not far away.

The two seemed to have their own opinions on the price. They were lighting cigarettes in the cold wind and talking to each other.

Next to them sat a woman with her skirt torn off, and the two children were like mice in a pile of coal, with only their eyes shining, huddled in their mother's arms, hiding away from the mat——

On the mat lay their rotting and stinking father.

The sound of selling is still heard.

Factory chimneys still emit black smoke.

Newspapers are filled with sarcastic or impassioned spats from reporters and writers:

Some are satirizing politicians on a daily basis, while others are satirizing the former and expressing their own 'views' on what it means to be a 'good citizen' if they really put forward something.

The white robes coming and going on the streets bring faith.

They bowed beside each victim, sprinkled holy water, left prayers, and raised new hope for these painful souls.

Politicians were surrounded in the streets, loudly preaching that if something was done, it would never be done in the future.

All the merchants became extremely friendly.

They no longer scold these men or women with bad smells as they did in the past, but express kindness and greet them with smiles like they do to their own parents and guests.

Gentlemen, noble gentlemen and ladies do not mind the 'disturbance' of these bereaved people, and will never frown at the corpses, flies or sobs on the street.

People coming and going comforted each other, and the swords that had been sharpened by life in daily life were now rolled up, exposing their soft bellies and facing each other.

Everything is going in the right direction.

Roland shook the newspaper on the table and walked downstairs.

Go to the men who were dealing in negroes, to the corners, to the bodies and the women and children.

Unfold the newspaper.

Spread over the face of a maggot-infested corpse.

Maybe all he wants is a newspaper.

The woman raised her head to look at him, her face was like a melting wax statue, and her dark brown tears had dried into winding coal roads.

She opened her mouth, and her voice, which had long since died of drought, let out a weak moan.

Her mouth shape is:

‘May the Father of All and Goddess of Nature always protect your soul. ’

Just like when she got it, she conveyed the words to Roland again without any hesitation.

A read newspaper, in exchange for a silent blessing. Both men thought they had made a profit.

"If I gave you a pound, you and your children wouldn't survive today."

She saw the miraculous man, who was more practical and beautiful than the Father of All, leaning against the wall—next to a stinking, rotting corpse, without her husband, and looking ugly.

"Y-yes...sir."

She poured all the saliva into her body today to moisten her throat, hoping that the words she said would not sound hoarse and scare this delicate and precious gentleman.

"But if I give you two shillings, you won't survive the week."

Roland crossed his hands and tapped the wall with his heels.

Some people passing by looked over, their eyes lingering on Roland's face.

So he lowered the brim of his hat.

"Where's your home?"

"Gone."

"How did your husband die?"

"He became a monster." The woman smiled stiffly, hiding the hatred in her eyes: "Maybe he drank unclean water."

If you become a monster, you have to pay for the innocent dead.

"Don't you have any copper coins left?"

The woman said there were two more.

——There is a monster in the house and it hurts or kills innocent people. It is normal to pay compensation.

But there was a lot of news circulating among the citizens, and everyone had some guess as to where the monster came from.

so…

They sympathize with each other.

A family with no dead people sympathizes with those with dead people; a family with dead people but not monsters sympathizes with those with monsters but still dead people.

It's like a tower with layers going downwards.

But when Holy Cross and the government said they wanted the monsters to "pay compensation"——

They no longer sympathize with each other.

‘My uncle was killed for no reason, shouldn’t we be compensated with some money? If you ask me, it would be nice not to detain the living people from the house where the monster is raised. ’

Roland rolled his eyes.

The woman's older daughter was playing with the flies that were flying around her.

The younger daughter timidly grabbed her mother's ragged skirt and put her head in her arms.

She had been dragged out wet, but now she was dry and unable to go back.

"First, sir..."

the woman asked quietly.

"Tell me, when will it be our turn?"

So many people died, and there was a queue for their burial.

Of course, there are also people who don’t line up: if you are willing to break the remains of your family or friends into small pieces, wrap them in poor cloth and bury them anywhere...

Then no need.

Roland: "What was your husband's job during his lifetime?"

Woman: "Porter at the port."

Roland: "What about you?"

Woman: "Wash someone else's clothes..."

Roland smiled and said that you might have to wait for a while, a short period of time.

The arrival of large numbers of Ritualists from the Circle of Eternal Silence will not turn these corpses into something more dangerous; nor will the Ritualists from the Church watch the plague appear in Bristol.

Hope rises out of disaster.

Only the light seen in pain and hopelessness can truly be imprinted on the soul.

Every place where disaster has occurred will be a breeding ground for true believers in the years to come.

It's just that Bristol is special.

Their disaster comes from hope.

So it's more troublesome to deal with.

"...I, my husband, have to wait a long time, right? Sir?"

The woman's voice felt better, she covered half of her injured face and raised her head slightly.

She finally saw the details of that handsome gentleman's real face.

But as she watched, she suddenly squeezed out a low cry from her throat:

"Your...eyes!"

Without focused pupils, he is blind.

"Of all things—" The anger she had suppressed for many days seemed to have found its place. She wanted to immediately clasp her hands, chant the name of Father God, and expel the cursed people—but at the same time, she thought of the "Holy Essence", the monster, Death, loss of home, possessions, husband.

A miserable future.

So, after "all things", scolding turned a corner and became the name of another god.

"Fiery Turbulence! Dominator! My goddess...please bless you...your..."

She wanted to say 'a devout believer', but the real lady knew that she could not deceive God, and she was not a follower of Eve.

She was stuck like this, stuck repeatedly, as embarrassed and helpless as a machine that had gone wrong.

Finally, he looked at Roland eagerly, begging for this cursed man——

But the man looked ferocious, bent down, and stared at them:

Father God! I am willing to believe in you again! Please, please bless your...

"Tell me your name, ma'am."

The golden-eyed man raised his lips, and his tone sounded full of malice: "I have been cursed, and I will also curse people I don't like..."

The woman was frightened.

She didn't even care that the newspaper on her husband's face was blown open by the cold wind. She hugged her child tightly and closed her eyelids as hard as if she could squeeze an immortal to death.

"I I apologize to you!"

She seems to think that she can be forgiven by a blind man if she is blind too.

"Tell me your name, ma'am."

Roland was unmoved, held his knees, and repeated it again.

at this time.

The little daughter in the woman's arms came out and looked at Roland with bright eyes blinking.

"Salem."

she says.

"What?"

"Saelen." The little girl covered her mouth with a piece of cloth and hid it: "...Don't curse mom. Curse me."

Roland chuckled: "You will regret it, girl."

The girl hesitated and asked again: "Is that okay?"

"You're doomed." Roland stared at her and said every word in an eerie tone: "Those who are cursed by me will not have sweetness in every piece of candy they eat in this life."

Before the mother and daughter could react from their daze, they stood up and left.

As soon as he turned his face, he saw Enid folding her arms and looking not far away with a half-smile.

"Are you too leisurely, Roland?"

"...You too, Enid."

"I am the presiding judge."

"I'm the presiding judge's...um...lover?"

Enid rolled her eyes at him.

"The curse is terrible, isn't it?"

Roland just laughed.

"Salem. I can talk to the Ring of Eternal Silence. There are too many low-ring ritualists doing this job." Enid opened her legs and walked side by side with him: "Place her husband in place, and then Give me a less crowded place to rest?”

"Thanks, Enid."

"Actually, even if you help her, you should know what their ending will be."

"But it's not their fault."

"It's not your fault, Roland."