The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 365 Ch.364 Feasting

A warm living room.

Dark night.

A corpse on the bed.

Two people sitting opposite each other.

John Shelley thought he had fallen into the trap of a madman-yes, a madman.

This Madeline Terry was a fucking madman.

She was the one who was spoiled.

At least when he was called Shelley, he never treated anyone like this-he might be a little arrogant, and used money to do a lot of things that others thought were not very decent, maybe, whipped servants, and forced someone's daughter, but...

He didn't kill anyone.

Hand in hand, or watched someone strangle a living person like a dog.

Especially a few minutes ago, she was still with him...

"You're crazy, Madeline."

John tremblingly took out the pipe from the bag, tremblingly unscrewed the glass jar, crushed a piece of tobacco, and pecked it all into the bowl with his bird-like hands.

He needed something to calm himself down.

It doesn't matter, John Shelley.

It doesn't matter.

She's just a prostitute.

She's dead.

Besides, I didn't kill her myself.

Madeline Terry did it.

I can say this to the police, I can say this to anyone.

-- No, even if I killed her, then, it can be said that she attacked me first, and she coveted my wealth.

It doesn't matter.

It's not a big deal.

I'm Shelley.

John Shelley.

The man whose soul and body are not in line with his age took a full eight minutes to stuff the brown tobacco into the bowl and compact it.

Light a match.

"Huh..."

Tobacco can calm people down.

It was also at this time that he finally got rid of the alcohol and the hardness that made people unable to stand up, got rid of the desire for great power, and really used his head to think about the madman in front of him-what exactly did she want to do.

Wait.

John Shelley suddenly realized that this might be a stupid coincidence.

Madeline Terry may be crazy, but she is definitely not a fool.

She must be rewarded for her efforts for him.

So, what is the reward?

That box.

- Mystery box.

Right?

His father was about to throw out the bait, but Madeline didn't know that it should belong to her - even if she did nothing.

Right?

"What do you want?"

He asked, waiting for the answer that was already in his heart.

Half of the woman's face in the firelight was hidden in the shadows, revealing two rows of neat teeth and bright red gums in the flickering light.

Her smile didn't look like a real person.

Instead, it was like the ceramic dolls in the glass cabinets on the street that only party at night.

"I want a box, the box you mentioned."

As expected.

When she said this, John Shelley's heart fell to the ground.

Strangely, he was at ease.

If something that should have been thrown away can still be sold at a high price...

No shrewd businessman would refuse.

"So, you went around and tempted me to commit a crime just to get a piece of junk." Little Shelley pretended to be dissatisfied, glanced at the cold flesh on the bed, and endured the chill running up from the soles of his feet.

Madman.

"Wrong, John. I didn't tempt you to commit a crime."

Madeline's face passed through the shadows, pale.

"I committed a crime." The smile on her face continued to spread, and her eyeballs almost fell out of her eye sockets: "I killed this woman... John."

"What crime have you committed?"

She said.

"I just want to make a deal with you."

"You give me what I want, and I give you what you want... In our eyes, it shouldn't be a loss, right?"

At least I don't lose.

John Shelley said in his heart.

If the mystery box can really be exchanged for a key to open the door of truth...

Why not?

His father just said that a group of people were eyeing the box, but it didn't sound very urgent - he guessed that even if there were really cultists eyeing the box, they wouldn't come so quickly and recklessly.

His last name is Shelley.

This is the headquarters of the Holy Cross.

What's more: he can give the mystery box to Madeline first, and then let her fulfill the agreement - even if she regrets, the box is in her hands.

He has completed the task anyway.

Right?

The cultist can never find him.

"I can steal what you want from my father." He emphasized the word "steal", made a reluctant expression on his face, and deliberately said: "This is not a trivial matter. How can you guarantee that you will fulfill the agreement later?"

Madeline smiled and moved the candlestick on the table in front of her.

"Madeline?"

"I have paid what I should pay, John." She hid behind a few candles. The firelight made the man unable to see her face.

"What?"

"I said, I have fulfilled part of it."

This vague riddle is really annoying: he has been with her for the past few days, except for eating and drinking, and performing the so-called "ritual" - until today, when someone died, she told him...

Is this all a scam?

He felt like a real idiot, being played around by her - and now there was a dead body on the bed.

"What are you doing?!"

"Miss Terry, I have to remind you who you are talking to."

However, Madeline Terry kept repeating the same words:

"I've fulfilled part of it."

Bang!

John Shelley smashed the table angrily, kicked off the wooden chair, and stood up.

He stared condescendingly at the shadow behind the fire, his anger whizzing past like substance——

then.

Blow out the candle.

Everything came to an abrupt end.

if.

If the body on the bed behind him sat up silently, John Shelley would not be so scared...

he.

He just...

Extinguished the candle?

Like before?

Madeleine pinched the blackened candle wick, pulled out a candle, exposed her face like an escaped prisoner, got out, her fragile neck hung on the sharp thorns of the candlestick, and faced the panicked man. man.

"Look, I said it."

"I've fulfilled part of it."

She stood up slowly, walked around the long table, put her hands on the man's shoulders, and applied gentle pressure.

Pushed him back into the chair.

"I paid for the box first, Mr. Shelley. I'm a perfect customer for a merchant, aren't I?" She bent over him like a snake.

Hands, hair, teeth, breath.

Crawling all over him.

"Next, you have to fulfill your promise and give me the box..."

John Shelley felt itchy all over.

Extremely itchy.

"...I'll steal it for you."

"Oh, I believe you are a man of your word." Madeleine put her chin on his shoulder, "Deal?"

John Shelley moved his arms, feeling a little uncomfortable: "Cheng...wait, about power...that's it?"

If only the candles were extinguished.

What's the use?

He wanted something extraordinary, something that transcended mortals, something that could cause fire or thunder, something that could shatter the earth, or even span miles in the blink of an eye.

He wants something that can tame a lion, something that can make pretentious fools bow their heads and kneel down.

He couldn't tell exactly what he wanted.

But extinguishing the candle is obviously not enough.

——Everyone says they know when enough is enough.

No one admits to being truly greedy.

But that's greed.

John Shelley thought…not enough.

"Perhaps you can tell me the complete ritual." He said to himself: "How about the complete ritual and exchange for the box?"

A strange look appeared on Madeline's face.

She held the man's chin and pointed his face towards the bed.

"Aren't I telling you now the process of the ceremony?"

"John."

she said.

"Enjoy your meal, John."

"Enjoy your meal."

The extinguished flames left the only source of light in the room.

That's the fireplace next to the wide bed.

A body was being warmed in anticipation of the bell ringing for dinner.

"...Are you kidding me? Are you crazy?"

John Shelley couldn't stand this crazy woman anymore, so he pushed her away, picked up the pipe on the table, and stood up, "You know what you are talking about?! Are you suggesting that I cannibalize?!"

Madeleine smoothed her hair.

"These days...don't you enjoy eating?"

She looked at the anger on the surface, and there was more pity in her expression.

John Shelley vomited.

Vomited on himself.

Mixed with gastric juices, he vomited out a section of undigested cow intestines from his dinner.