The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 348 Ch.347 Hero

Not sure.

This doesn't matter when choosing a scarf.

But now it's a matter of life and death.

Although no one present really knew what dangers there would be in following them to the riverside after avoiding the ghosts that tore apart flesh and blood - but rather than believing in Roland Collins, this 'beauty', they were more willing to believe in everything from the beginning to the end. The scorching and shining sun.

Goldfinch Evans.

Derek Evans.

Maybe after today, this name will spread in the circle.

"Sir, we have to get out of here, do you understand?" Someone said impatiently: "Getting out of here requires more than just looks. What's more, how can we trust a blind man? Can you see your own face in the mirror?"

Someone chuckled.

"...Jinmei...Mr. Executive Officer, you still..." The ladies couldn't help but said, "Wouldn't it be better if Evans led us? We won't talk about this matter, right?"

Everyone nodded.

Obviously, this is a softer pole than Derrick Evans.

Everyone knew what he wanted to do - still too young, too unpopular, Roland Collins.

He wanted to perform well in public, and then wait until he was rescued to become famous. Although Evans saved people, as long as "Roland Collins" was involved, the name would always be hanging behind Evans. , like shit on a dog’s ass.

"It's time, kid."

The bad-tempered man showed no mercy: "This is not the bedroom of your 'old friend' or 'friend's mother'. Where is this? There are monsters around here! "Golden Rosa", sir, or whatever you call him, You can't let us all die here - just for your face, your reputation? "

Roland's head was lowered by each sentence, and his fingers hanging on the trouser line flicked lightly.

It's time for another person to appear.

"I don't think so." Randolph adjusted his collar, picked up his cane and walked to Roland: "I trust my friend, and his judgment has never been wrong - since he has a better proposal, why can't he call him Tell me?"

"When we didn't—"

"That's enough time, sir. The time you just wasted in debating was enough for you to go back and forth in the bedroom four or five times, right?"

Bronte subconsciously touched Beatrice's arm with her finger.

"How about it."

Beatrice:?

The man who was insulted in turn was furious. He didn't have the patience of an old man: "Okay, let us hear what your friend has to say."

As a result, his eyes once again focused on the shy and timid young man's face.

This time it's even sharper, forcing people to hang themselves.

He turned pale with fright.

"...I, I actually, actually..." His mouth was dry, and he wished his lips would be cracked by the roast: "Actually, I don't have any particularly good suggestions... It's just."

only.

He paused: "It's just that I think..."

I think.

"I think something's not right."

Sort of.

These key words are like a heavy hammer hitting a face made of porcelain, and it will shatter into pieces in one or two hits.

"Very good, you 'think' it's very good." The doctor who was quarreling with Randolph blushed when he heard the cough, and almost jumped up: "You, think. You are just a 'think', a Guess, just teach us people to wait in such a dangerous place..."

"You don't really want to do this, do you?"

He opened his arms, looked around, made a gnashing motion on his upper lip, and snorted: "Then, who would agree?"

Randolph tapped his cane: "I agree."

"Oh, there are so many people."

Bronte led Beatrice and leaned towards Roland.

There were four people when we came, and there are still only four now.

Randolph seemed to be overwhelmed by this unsupported predicament. His narrow eyes narrowed and he picked out a few familiar names from the people around him.

Called over in turn.

"Bohan, Cork, Hughes."

These three people were close to the Taylor family and had business dealings with each other and got along well with each other.

The three of them glanced at Evans who kept smiling but said nothing, looked at the scrutinizing eyes around him, and sighed silently in their hearts: They were not optimistic about the golden rose either, but what to do...

Since he was called out, of course he sided with Randolph.

——Anyway, no matter who solves this trouble, they can live. But if he hates Taylor, the business will be in trouble.

Adults are not living today.

Randolph looked at the three people leading their families over, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly: This also made more people impatient - they wanted to leave as soon as possible, instead of watching two big boys bickering over dignity in such a dangerous place.

Divide time.

"Let's start, Evans." They ignored those who went to Randolph, and turned around one by one, urging Evans with their eyes or words, asking him to teach them what to do to get rid of the nightmare.

"It's very simple." Jinque raised her chin, glanced at the dejected 'Golden Rose', and smiled more gently.

He is slowly learning how to get along with these people, and he is gradually gaining their recognition - he thinks that maybe after this time, the golden bird of the Evans family will really fly high.

"We have to give them what they want. When the obsession of these ghosts disappears - everyone, we will be free."

"Great, so Evans, how can we help you?"

He began to speak in detail.

These marchers wanted three things:

Voting rights, vacations, let women and children leave the mines.

As long as they are satisfied, the obsession will disappear.

At that time, according to what he learned, the "field" without support will inevitably no longer be stable.

They can chat while taking small steps, smoking, and leave like a picnic.

"I will be the one who opens the door, gentlemen. I need an assistant, a real person who announces the passage of the "bill" - this person must have enough experience, at least..." He lowered his voice: "... at least deceive the ghosts."

"But I want to tell you: this is very dangerous. Because those who are with me will face the ghosts and communicate with them - I emphasize again, everyone, this is very dangerous."

It was the one who had a verbal battle with Randolph before. He glanced at the stiff zombies around him and smiled: "I think these are all civilians, right?"

"Of course." Evans nodded.

"Then there will be no problem." He tapped his cane like Randolph, then turned around and hugged his wife.

Then, he waved his arm fiercely in public: "Let me do it!"

Everyone looked at this hero excitedly, clapping enthusiastically but as lightly as possible.

The man's invisible sight passed through the invisible applause.

It fell on the gloomy face of Randolph.

He stepped on his face a few times.

"Evans and I will take you away from this place-we don't have to 'consider', and we won't 'not be able to hold'."

If there weren't ghosts all around, they would almost whistle and shout a few times.

A heroic act!

Since falling into this nightmare, they have many heroes standing up!

This is the real rescue, sent by the benefactor, and the hope in despair!

"We may never forget you, Evans and..."

"Barent." The man looked proud, with the corners of his mouth bent down: "Barent."

"Yes, we will never forget the contributions made by Evans and Mr. Barent - of course, whether men or women, we are in the same boat and work together to overcome this terrible nightmare: when I leave here, I must write an article praising you!"

"Please give me such power."

Everyone laughed.

"Just call: real hero!"

Perhaps the man who was the editor took the lead in touching his chest and bowed to Evans and Barent to pay the highest respect.