The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 333 Ch.332 Dreamland

Victor Sala is dead.

Die on the knees of your own work.

When Roland remained calm, asked the servant to inform Randolph, and quietly welcomed him into the house - Randolph thought Victor was just asleep.

He was so peaceful, like a child sleeping in his mother's arms, no longer afraid of the storm that threatened to destroy the world.

Like the lake finding its afternoon boat.

When a talented stonemason dies, all the stone carvings in the city should commit suicide——

Unfortunately, this is just Roland's imagination.

In fact, even the crows outside the window did not notice that the owner of the house had already broken away from time and headed for the eternal stillness.

Like a statue.

His funeral was simple.

Because he was infected with "white earth disease" or "petrification disease"... no high-end cemetery was willing to accept him: even if the embalmer used the thickest powder to cover it, the gray stain caused by petrification was different from that of a normal corpse.

The most exclusive cemetery in the Ring of Silence will not accept a corpse that is cursed or infected with an unknown disease.

They didn't burn Taylor on the spot because of his last name, but they would never accept him.

In the end, Randolph could only find a place for Victor that was not very scenic, narrow but quiet - a sparsely populated cemetery on the outskirts of the city, guarded by an organization affiliated with the Ring of Silence.

The funeral was simple and the stone cave was ready.

There are two lines of words engraved on the tablet:

‘A highly skilled sculptor is buried here. ’

'He took away the friendship of friends, the love of art, and the everlasting regret. ’

In the tomb, next to the dark coffin, stands a female stone sculpture.

She stood quietly, with her head lowered, staring and stroking the coffin lid - when Roland asked about the new alien species, her answer was simple and firm.

‘I am a creature of my Creator, and I deserve to be at the Creator’s side. ’

Roland said it would take a long time.

She said the statue has eternal life.

Roland said that the human world is colorful.

She replied that the statues could not distinguish colours.

Roland told her that harming the innocent person was not allowed.

She asked what ‘not innocent’ meant.

‘You will not stop until you die, even if you die. ’ Roland said.

‘There is only the Creator. ’ she replied.

This is not the first time Roland has violated the Executive Code.

Therefore, this immortal alien species will always stay next to Victor Sala's coffin in the form of a 'funeral object', staring at his creator or child, and staying still with him in the winter on the outskirts of London.

"I told him to wait."

Outside the tomb stands a stone sculpture of the Holy Cross, a man who lost his friend and his remaining friendship.

"You know, even if Edward Snow comes back, there shouldn't be much that can be done about this disease." Roland tried to make Randolph less 'self-blame' - in his opinion, his businessman friend was not solely because of friendship. pain.

The part that turned into a sword was actually the ship that never returned.

Victor Sala's father died in a shipwreck, a journey he shouldn't have gone on, but he embarked on a journey because of Belos Taylor's request.

When Victor dies, Randolph will blame himself even more.

Because after his father's death, the Taylor family failed to save his son - the surname Sarah ended.

"It's not your fault, Randolph."

"I can't tell." Randolph shrugged, pretending to be relaxed: "I always think that if I can be less busy and talk to Victor more, maybe my destiny will change - if he doesn't embark on this road, They won’t be exposed to white soil, they won’t be paranoid and willful, and they won’t hide in the house forever like mice, never seeing the light of day.”

"If I had been earlier, everything would have been different."

Randolph spoke easily, but his words were heavy with a lingering sense of oppression.

He was wearing a brown fur scarf, and his frozen face seemed as lifeless as the sculptures in the tomb. The silence that once rang in the ears, when the 'ding-dong-dang' disappeared, a new silence was created.

"well."

Randolph just let out a long lament. There were too many complicated things that he could not and should not say to Roland.

Those were the only memories of him and Victor.

-

Death is so cruel, but we seem to be used to it.

-

Is this only true in this era?

"Every one is the same, Roland."

"The sharper the pain, the duller the happiness."

"Do you want to be a fed sheep or a hungry tiger?"

-

I want to make an awl.

"...?"

-

You are the wrench and I am the awl, and we can be in the toolbox and stay together all day long.

The flames in sight were silent for a long time:

"I don't want to do this anymore."

Roland curled his lips.

His eyes passed through the cross carvings and the iron bars in front of the cave, and he seemed to be able to see the woman in the dark tomb with her head down and a smile.

This will be a long and lingering gaze that passes through time.

"You should kill her."

-

Alien species?

"Of course, this is a mutant that has never been seen before. If you catch her, the big bat will give you multiple rewards; if you kill her, you may get rare ritual materials... or even secret organs."

"You should seize every opportunity to become stronger."

Roland didn't reply and twisted the handle of the stick.

"Randolph."

"Um?"

"Victor Sala will not be alone. He has company. It is you who should grieve now."

"Of course?" Randolph was stunned for a moment: "Because I lost a friend——"

"Because you have not succeeded in making Miss Bronte fall in love with you until today. You are lonely, my friend. As lonely as a wild dog shivering in the cold wind at night."

Randolph: ...

"Damn it, Roland. You have to joke in such a serious place..."

"If you die, I will dance at your funeral." Roland smiled and patted his shoulder, then turned and walked out of the cemetery: "If I die, please crawl around at my funeral. ”

Someone laughed angrily: "That's really fair, Mr. Collins."

Roland: "Don't talk about fairness between friends, talk about friendship."

"Our friendship is not strong enough for me to crawl at your funeral...Why don't you do this at my funeral?" Randolph scolded and hurried after him.

Roland: "If you die immediately today, I will do it immediately."

"If you can guarantee it, I won't be so afraid of death."

You said something to me, the two people hammered each other, and walked slowly outside the cemetery.

got windy.

Randolph suddenly looked back at Victor's grave.

A few crows perched on the cross eagle to preen their feathers.

He pressed the brim of his hat.

‘Good luck, my artist. ’

…………

…

Victor Sala left little legacy, but interestingly, the artist left a message to his only friend, Randolph Taylor.

Yes, just a note, a sentence.

"Please take back all my donated works and display them in your salon at dusk."

Randolph didn't understand what the note meant.

"If Victor was pursuing fame, he would have told me how to operate it, and there would be no such joke as the art exhibition..."

Randolph was skeptical.

Victor Sala would not ask his friends to make him famous after his death.

Victor wouldn't do that.

Randolph was absolutely sure.

If he had wanted to, he would have piled gold pounds into the sun long ago.

"Why don't you do it." Roland clasped his hands behind his back and looked around the empty room, "Hold a salon, Randolph. It will be at Taylor's house. Beatrice and I will attend."

Randolph: ...

My sister would have attended without you having to tell her.

"Besides, I haven't decided whether to invite you yet, Roland." The failed brother, who lost his sister and then his friend, said with a dark face, "I haven't decided yet."

"I can ride a dragon." Roland weighed his feet and turned around lightly, with a proud look on his face: "Beatrice said she bought it for me... with your money."