The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 375 Ch.374 Someone you shouldn’t be familiar with

Bang.

A body fell into the bloody mud.

With laughter, the erratic 'Frost Ghost' disappeared again.

"She...she, she's dead..."

Mori Bai's blade penetrated the top of his skull.

An unfired gun fell to the floor.

The only two living people left in the room lit the candles, holding them like ignorant people lighting a torch for the first time, opening their eyes and looking directly into the unknown dark wilderness: at the banquet covered with bloodshot and white bones, among the maggots and rotten flesh. , fear is singing.

Despair grew silently between the two of them.

breathe.

silence.

Candlelight flickers.

"I can't die..."

said a woman.

She killed so many people, and she finally used everything she had in exchange for the power of eternal life...

She must not die here.

suddenly.

A flash of white flashed in the round mirror.

The woman subconsciously waved the candle, picked up the candlestick with her other hand, and threw it towards the round mirror not far away!

Click.

The mirror is broken.

The shadow also broke and dissipated as the cracks broke.

"Close your eyes... close your eyes...! I know... I know... I got it...!"

She gasped like a hyena after a failed hunt, hunched over, eyes closed, and wading in the bloody mud with bare feet.

She wants the gun.

"That thing...that thing may...can only be...through mirrors and eyes..."

She muttered something, and the revelation of the mystery gave her a certain amount of strength, allowing her to see the hope of life again.

She has eaten people.

She was already extraordinary.

She is not afraid of this monster.

she…

She has... a gun...

The woman who closed her eyes and bowed was not touching the warm metal handle of the gun.

It is a frosted blade.

At this moment, the woman huddled in the corner covered her mouth, watching helplessly as the 'blood lake' reflected on the floor in the candlelight changed color little by little - the thing slowly stood up from the reflection and handed over the blade in its hand. To the woman who closed her eyes and stretched out her hand.

She slowly raised her head and glanced at her.

Wave.

A fresh head landed.

Red blood spurted out from the fracture like a spring, like squeezing a full urine bubble. The red liquid flowed straight to the ceiling, exploding into an irregular artistic flower on the peeling and yellowed skin.

Boom.

The headless corpse shook and hit another corpse.

"No...you can't hurt me...you can't!"

"I, I...I believe...I believe in the Father of All Things! I am, yes, a devout believer...You can't touch me——!!"

The cultist waved the long-extinguished candle in his hand.

A futile move.

The spirit just tilted its head, and the next moment - before a knock on the door sounded, she broke into countless tiny particles and disappeared in front of the trembling woman.

Knock knock.

Someone is outside the door.

Knock knock.

Knock it very softly.

police?

still…

Neighbors who heard the noise?

Who...is outside the door?

The woman was trembling, and she no longer had the courage to pour boiling water down her throat.

She has sisters, church members, and malicious accomplices, but now, when facing a monster that is impossible to defeat, what she relies on cannot bring her any help -

Maybe she just got a little wet on her toes...

But he thought he had conquered the ocean.

She sobbed.

No matter who was outside the door, she was screwed.

Completely ended…

No, that's not right.

'I still have a chance...'

The monster seemed to disappear.

The woman was holding on to the wall, her legs like two flags in the wind. She stood again and again, and finally, she simply lay down on the ground, crawled into the blood, went to the body, opened the headless flesh, and dug out the single-shot pistol inside.

With it.

She can still live.

Click.

The long and thick bullet was loaded into the chamber.

If it's a policeman... As long as he breaks in, I will shoot and kill him. If there are two people, I will find an opportunity to beat one to death first, and then smash the other to death with a candlestick...

She planned in her mind, rehearsing how she would escape, run away to Miss Madeleine, notify her, inform...

Maybe she could just run away?

She was fantasizing, but she heard a 'crunch'.

The door was unscrewed.

A bunch of dim yellow swaying, crunching, crunching, being lifted.

Someone stepped on the creaking wooden boards.

It's leather shoes.

He entered the house.

Go through the hall.

Stepped into the sticky flesh.

The woman hid the gun behind her back and raised her head:

The one holding the lantern is a man.

Wearing a top hat and a black cloak covering a thick windbreaker.

He has a pair of eyes that are similar in color to the lights...

"Good night, Ms. Fiennes."

he said.

…………

…

Boom.

The gun in Rebecca Fiennes' hand hit the floor.

Roland Collins.

A face she could never forget.

"Good night."

He held a lamp and stepped on his feet, walking through the mud, stepping over corpses and bones, and found a relatively clean chair next to the wooden bed, wiped it with the quilt on the bed, and sat down.

Put the lantern on the table.

"Good night." He crossed his legs: "We shouldn't meet here, right?"

Rebecca Fiennes opened her mouth, but her throat was constricted and she couldn't make a sound.

It was an extremely strange emotion, and only she knew why.

"Your father was an executive after all. No matter how he was alive, he fought evil until the last moment." Roland knocked on his knees and stared at the woman whose expression kept changing. She was even more beautiful and gorgeous than she had been in Bristol.

More dangerous.

She may have grown a distinctive set of fangs and her stomach became insatiable.

"It's a pity that you joined a cult."

regret?

At this moment, Rebecca Fiennes couldn't hear the most regret.

Maybe she was an acquaintance, maybe she knew Roland's 'weakness', she became hysterical as if her string had been broken, screaming and roaring: "Who is that all because of?!"

"It's all because of who?!"

She was finally able to stand up straight.

The nails seemed to have become sharp, and short, thick bristles grew on the backs of the hands.

"If it weren't for you! If, if it weren't for that bitch next to you! Collins, ha! Upright executive officers, if it weren't for you, I should have gotten more than one coin, right?!"

"If I had enough money, I wouldn't be tempted and become the sword of these monsters!"

"It's all you! It's all your fault!! You lied to me! You lied to me!"

"I shouldn't have had that little money!"

"I don't have a father!"

She didn't dare to get close, but she began to use words to insult the man in front of her and the scheming gray-haired girl.

"But you lied to me..."

If it weren't for them, she should have lived a comfortable and prosperous life, found a man to live with, and maybe had a child - it was all because of that vicious woman that she became what she is today.

Boom.

The toe of her leather shoe hit the floor, dulling her madness.

"Ms. Fiennes."

Roland rubbed two deerskin gloves and said slowly: "If I remember correctly, you should have taken away thirty pounds of compensation - for your father's death, I think the Inquisition has already compensated you, hasn't it? "

His voice was very soft, but it sounded like thunder in Fiennes's ears.

"At Bristol station, on the second platform, someone stopped you and gave you a pocketful of gold pounds."

"I remember that number very clearly."

Roland leaned forward, holding his chin, half of his face shrouded in shadow: "Thirty pounds, right?"

His certainty silenced Rebecca.

"I admit that Cinder does have some strange little quirks. But Mr. Ram Fiennes sacrificed himself for Bristol to a certain extent - then his daughter should be compensated."

"It seems that he intercepted you successfully and gave you the compensation, right?"

Still silent.

Rebecca grabbed her light nightgown.

At this moment, she seemed to be peeled off a layer of skin by the words of the man on the chair opposite.

A real skin.

"That person at the station... was... sent by you?"

She was unable to salivate and her speech was stammering.

It was as if an executioner had cut off her tongue.

Roland twitched the corners of his mouth, and the boiling gold in his eyes gradually cooled down:

"...You know, Ms. Fiennes. A life in the workhouse was worth five pence, and if you were pretty enough, or strong enough, you might be able to sell it for three shillings—I mean, on the board of trustees On the premise that they don’t accept gifts.”

"Thirty pounds...ma'am."

Roland rubbed the gloves slowly and carefully, and the rustling sound was no less than the laughter of the 'Frost Ghost' just now.

They are also life-threatening.

Rebecca's lowered eyes suddenly rolled twice, and when she raised her head again, she suddenly started wailing loudly.

What she's good at.

It's so sad and tragic that it makes people feel uncomfortable listening to it.

At this time, she knew how to survive...

Maybe it's also the last chance.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, sir...! I, I lied to you..." She wiped it, blood and tears mixed together, strands of hair stuck to her face, her shoulders shrank, looking at it made people pity: "I'm just, I'm just too scared , I’m afraid you think I’m the same as them…”

She lifted her nightgown, exposing a large area of ​​skin.

"I...I was actually...captured..."

As she cried, she moved along the wall to the pole where clothes were hung, and took off the scarf from a branch.

The red scarf was wrapped twice around his neck.

"Look...look!"

"I just came... I just got tied up by them, these black-hearted, cunning, cold-blooded women. Look! There is still my scarf here. I just took off my clothes - look at my wrists, are there any Wound?!"

"Mr. Collins! You are a kind-hearted person. You must never decide the wrong case. I didn't do anything..."

"I should be living a good life, but I have to go to a factory!"

"But, these bitches, robbers, and scoundrels stopped me in the alley and kidnapped me..."

Roland watched her performance quietly.

Watch her cry and tuck her 'scarf'.

It was a bloody intestine with corn kernels inside.