The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 327 Ch.32 Hyman's Question

Louis Hyman wanted Roland to return a "favor", of course not to kill or betray the Inquisition - after all, the snake on his wrist could prove that Roland was already doing this.

He wanted Roland and Shandel to carry out a mission.

He would find a way to let the mission fall to the Inquisition, and then Roland and Shandel would accept it.

Then.

Change the route during the mission and do an extra small, very simple thing for them...

"It's just a small favor, Mr. Hyman. But this favor made me betray the Inquisition. Are the people in the Hyman family so good at doing business?"

Randolph could see that Louis Hyman had something to say to Roland.

He went to the other end of the exhibition hall under the pretext of looking for a manuscript to discuss the price - it was said to be one of the sonnets left by the poet before his death, but the owner obviously said that the "donation" price was too low. When the Ilet Art Association and the Royal Library contacted him at the same time, this bidding-like competition made the two parties choose to temporarily stop the war, and also made the owner have other ideas.

If the price is right, even a cow would do.

So he paid the entrance fee and glided back and forth between each exhibition hall like a hawk catching rabbits.

It was obvious that he could recognize Randolph Taylor.

"Fame on the water. If the manuscript is real, Roland, your friend has a collection that will make him proud for years to come."

Louis took him to the side of the exhibition hall, leaning against the arched window, and chose a seat at the innermost side next to many exquisite, slightly curved but not angular low-legged tables and chairs.

"If it is, I don't think he would say that the manuscript was originally used to please a lady."

"Understandable."

He used his privilege to order the "servant" to serve a bottle of red wine, two plates of sliced ​​ham and chunky apples, and invited Roland.

"Let's talk while we drink."

"I'm the executive officer, Mr. Heiman."

"Of course, I'm Heiman. We don't have to be afraid of our identities, and I know that Ms. Jutia saved your life." Louis shook the soft red gemstone, touched Roland's with the rim of the cup, swallowed a few and put it back.

"I will inform Ms. Jutia first. How can I call Roland Collins and Cinder Kratov without informing Enid Jutia? You don't think that a six-ring dares to do such a thing?"

"I'm Heiman, not Victoria."

Roland raised his glass: "I don't know whether this is flattery or derogation."

Louis smiled but didn't answer.

He told Roland that this matter might be 'insignificant' or 'crucial' to Roland himself.

It depends on whether he chooses to continue to be a blind man...

or open his eyes and go through the fog.

It's actually a deal rather than 'help'.

"You know what, Lu... Can I?"

"Of course."

"Louis, before I came to London, someone said something similar - open your eyes."

"For the mysterious, I can't be said to be completely 'open-eyed', but I can't say I'm 'blind' either. What do you want me to see? The parties in this country? Politics? The grievances of the Heiman family? Your great and selfless ideals? Pious faith?"

Louis Heiman's fingers rubbed the rim of the cup, and the sound of the water stains was as short as an axe breaking bones, and it was only anxious for a second.

The beef in front of Roland was cut into several smaller slices.

"Please have it."

He showed Roland his danger, and did not hide the storm that was continuing.

"This matter has nothing to do with me, Roland, or you."

"But if you agree, you can find some interesting truths... probably, a small part."

Roland pinched a piece of beef and put it in his mouth, chewing and talking without courtesy:

"... Oh, the truth, what will happen then."

"We are the same kind of people, Roland." Louis Heyman is like a pair of eyes on a gust of wind with an uncertain shape. When he stares at a person, if you don't force yourself to ignore those eyes, you will never escape from the vortex.

To some extent, he and Roland have the same charm.

But he is sharper.

"We are the same kind of people - that is: never care about things that have nothing to do with ourselves. It is unnecessary for me to help you kill Sendes, and it is unnecessary for me to threaten you with the people in the entire exhibition hall. You don't care, right?"

He grinned, as if the beasts showed their fangs when they met, to show his identity:

I am you too.

Roland continued to eat: "I'm just one ring."

"Ah, that's right."

Louis's half-smiley eyes finally caught the shadow in the mist, what a person really cares about.

"It has nothing to do with us, of course you don't care."

"It's just..."

"Enid Jutia will die."

Creaky.

The chair legs made a sharp and short whistle on the floor.

Louis showed an expression of "as expected".

Got it.

"All those below ten rings are mortals", Roland, have you heard this sentence?"

"...Of course."

"No doubt?" Louis shook the wine glass, at this moment, his mood couldn't be better:

"The fourth ring of the "Dry Bones" Road can resist swords with the flesh; the sixth ring of the "Organ" Road can travel in the rhythm; the eighth ring of the "Holy Flame" Road can bathe in flames, and will never lose in a head-on battle."

"We are so powerful."

The red-haired man's eyes seemed to be changing color under the light coming from the arched window.

His sharp gaze was like a spear, nailing Roland to death.

"We are so invincible."

His expression was as devout as that of a fanatic who advocated self-sacrifice, but in an instant he despised those fanatics who advocated self-sacrifice. He used the saliva of prostitutes as holy water for them to drink, and bursts of raging fire came from the skin of the cold-looking man. Endless laughter.

"But is there something wrong with this?"

"The ones we ignored?"

"We are obviously far superior to ordinary people, but we are still "all ordinary people below the tenth ring" - why? "

Ignoring the pair of ambers who stared quietly, Louis gave the answer slowly.

"Because ritual practitioners below the tenth ring cannot avoid death."

"The "Meditator" will face the deteriorating body, and the "Dry Bones" and "Elegy" will always fight against the call of death. And "Holy Flame"..."

He flicked the slender glass column again and again, and the red wine in the glass vibrated and buzzed like Roland's endless inner lake.

"Roland Collins, haven't you ever thought about it: If the "Holy Flame" is really so powerful that no ritualist of any path dares to fight it head-on - if it has almost no opponents, the Inquisition, the Church...the entire Holy Cross, How many people should yearn for that pure and pale flame? "

"Why have the "Holy Flames" of the High Ring been rarer than those of other roads? "

"Is it a lack of talent, or..."

“Those people don’t want to move up the ladder?”

Louis asked questions but did not give Roland an answer. He smiled and raised his wine glass to celebrate with the invisible other one.

"Ding."

"cheers."