The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 338 Ch337 A long mission

Chapter 338 Ch.337 A long mission

The Mud Ball Circus has been in bad shape lately.

Not only from the performances of the actors - most obviously, from their leader, the owner of the entire mud ball circus: Mason Lyle.

He had rarely been on stage with his 'children' before.

Now he often appears on the field, speaking in a tone as gorgeous as an opera singer and as pious as a choir, telling the men and women in the tent about his ups and downs in the first half of his life, educating those watching the performance through highly infectious speeches. The young ladies who were inexperienced in the world burst into tears and kept wiping their tears with handkerchiefs, leaving a lot of mud on their faces.

This method has increased a lot of income for the Mud Ball Circus.

It also makes people who were supposed to be lovers or get married leave each other hastily.

Who would kiss a face covered in mud?

Mason Lyle.

Randolph's evaluation of this man is: gem stand, stallion.

A lucky guy from a humble background who loves to show off.

"Just like Taylor." He did not shy away from Bronte and said to Roland: "The previous generations of the Taylor family were like this, but the difference between us and him is that we are richer than him and have more dignity than him. ”

Taylor would not be like this person, like that unpopular beggar or wanderer from a foreign land, begging for rewards from guests in public, nor would he make up his 'bloodline' and insist on saying how extraordinary his past was and that his bloodline came from a certain person. A very noble family...

That's stupid.

“Money speaks, and it has the power to promote all things base and noble.”

"Is this considered Taylor's family motto?" Roland teased.

"You can say that." Randolph told Roland that the Taylor family has been adhering to this method of doing things since the previous generation, or the previous generation. Perhaps each generation of heirs has high or low abilities, but these heirs are all lucky enough to possess an absolutely extraordinary power:

Know how much you are capable of.

For example, Randolph's father, Bellows Taylor, frankly said to his son that he could protect everything his father created, but he had no power to develop anything in London, a city full of swords.

Therefore, he handed over the authority to his son, Randolph Taylor very early.

As a father, it is very difficult to admit one's shortcomings to his son... At least in Roland's view, what Bellows Taylor has done is absolutely unparalleled.

“My dad would have loved for me to have them.”

Randolph didn't care about Roland's surprise, because the Taylor family was like this.

"Having one hundred thousand pounds at the age of twenty and having one hundred thousand pounds at the age of fifty are two completely different periods of life - he hopes that I can enjoy everything I should have early."

Taylor's Tips.

They believe that when the previous generation has too much, the next generation has nothing under the control of their parents...

He watched hundreds of gold pounds flowing past his feet every day, falling into his father's pocket like a heavy rain...

He saw that boundless power was within reach but also out of reach.

He will gradually twist into a deformed, insatiable beast that devours his family and himself.

“The sooner you have it, the sooner you wake up.”

Randolph Taylor casually handed the hot copper cake to the girl next to him, and her face turned red because of the heat.

"The children of the Taylor family must understand the power of money. They must first know what kind of power it has, and then be addicted to its power and enjoy all the kneeling and respect, trembling and flattery it brings..."

"Then you can fear it and fear it."

"Manipulate it."

When Randolph said these words, he was slightly different from usual people - in Roland's view, this was the real "Taylor", an heir to the Taylor family, a shrewd and cold currency manipulator.

His friends are awesome.

"I saw in the newspaper that there are constant storms on the ocean." Roland fiddled with the gem hairpin in his hand and suddenly said: "The Taylor family's ship must be in a lot of trouble."

"Ah, indeed. Especially on the ship going to India, many people fell into the sea." Randolph smiled and rolled his eyes, like a wild fox that had not wiped the blood from the corner of its mouth after hunting.

Bronte couldn't understand what the two people were talking about...no, it should be said why this was mentioned.

What... what India, fell into the sea?

At this point, Roland stopped mentioning the matter and turned to Bronte: "I would also like to thank you, Miss Bronte, for adding color to the promotion of the Fountain of Youth."

"I just wanted to help Mr. Taylor."

Bronte shook his head: "...He lost his friend, and he had to carry his friends' sincere feelings, staining them with copper... I hope I can be helpful to the Taylor family - Teresa is very good to me, and the Taylor family is too ”

Roland blinked: "Theresa and the Taylor family are very kind to you... but Randolph is not?"

Bronte:…

What a rude thing to say.

How could he question a lady like this in public?

Wouldn't Mr. Taylor stop it?

Randolph Taylor…

Don't stop it.

Even extremely happy.

The silent businessman began to rub his palms, or look at the patterns on the cuff buttons, or move his ankles, raise the toes of his shoes and then lower them.

Anyway, I was too busy to get involved in the conversation between Roland and Bronte.

"... Randolph, Randolph... Mr. Randolph Taylor, is also very good to me." Bronte really had no choice but to choke on a large piece of dark and dry bread. It was difficult to say even one sentence. :"…very good."

That was all she could say.

very good.

Randolph raised the corners of his mouth slightly.

"That's what I should do."

"Your accomplishments in writing are extraordinary. You should focus more on this. If you can make a career..." Roland said casually.

But if we talk about ‘text’ and the details of its propaganda…

Bronte's voice became different.

She repeatedly spread her palms and placed them on her legs. When she raised her head arrogantly, her palm-sized face was filled with a surge of self-confidence: "Oh, I think the public does not allow women to be writers."

This is a very subtle emotion, somewhere between arrogance and pride.

Randolph listened attentively.

He, or Brontë, thought that after saying this, Roland would argue with her about why the 'public' did not allow women to publish novels, whether the 'public' represented 'men', and the division of labor between men and women in various fields. …