The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 381 Ch.380 The girl holding her head and a familiar person

Behind the scarlet spider door was not what Roland had imagined.

He thought it would be a similarly decayed courtyard, perhaps a narrower and more gloomy corridor, horrible flesh and blood, or more dense snakes and ants...

Such a terrifying scene?

No.

Behind the door were four pairs of stunned eyes.

A spacious, small banquet-like room, with snake-patterned candles of varying heights burning everywhere.

The floor was clean and reflective.

The walls seemed to have just been swept by the cleaning maid with a duster, wiped carefully with a wet rag, and then, incense was lit - a faint but clear sweet smell spread silently in the room.

Center.

In the center of the candlelight was a huge hexagonal solid wood table.

Four of the seats were occupied.

That is, the four pairs of stunned eyes looking over.

Roland knew them.

The Shelleys.

Madeline Terry.

And... Rebecca Fiennes.

How did these four people appear here?

Roland stared at Rebecca.

His memory...

Still stayed when he was talking to Rebecca.

Later.

Later...

What happened?

He arrested her, right?

Roland's memory was like winter fog on the glass, getting colder with every inch.

The bone-chilling coldness clearly reminded the owner of the body:

Forbidden.

In this dream, it is forbidden to peek into the secrets behind the winter fog.

Even if it originally belonged to you.

"It seems that you have to introduce yourself."

The recent memory of these four people was also blurred - in the eyes of the little Shelley who was speaking, he did not know Rose yet, and he did not know how close this girl was to him in the waking world.

As for Madeline?

The owner of her skin might know Roland.

"Scissors, you can call me Mr. Scissors."

Luo Toolbox Lan gave up the drill he had thought of and took a code name that he thought was not so unpleasant, more common and easy to pronounce.

Rose was speechless.

Because she found that the four people at the table looked somewhat embarrassed: they knew each other, but they had to call an outsider...Scissors?

"Then I am the Moon."

Rose bent her knees slightly and walked forward with Roland.

She knew very well who the people at the table were.

Cultists.

Cultists' fathers.

Excellent.

"We have lost a memory, the Moon and... Mr. Scissors."

James Shelley had slightly curly white hair.

The gentleman's dress did not add color to the old man, but a certain calm quality in his bones brought honor to this dark suit.

He was different from his son.

He controlled his clothes and status.

Rose narrowed her eyes and repeatedly clicked her trouser line with her fingers - she was a little unaccustomed to facing such people.

Calm, serious, often stared at by those eyes, always seeming to be looked back and forth...

Anne was such a person.

She was not used to dealing with such people.

"The moon and I have also lost a part of our memory, sir. How should I address you? You and your daughter, your daughter's husband?"

Roland pointed out Madeleine, deliberately confusing the relationship, just to conceal one thing:

He and Rose knew their identities long ago.

At the same time.

He also gave a person a chance.

A chance to survive if she made the right choice.

She didn't seize it.

Or, she thought about it carefully after being surprised-or resolutely chose another way.

"He is the executive!!"

Rebecca Fiennes screamed loudly!

Roland sighed secretly.

In an instant, John suddenly looked up, and the malice in his eyes almost turned into a sharp knife!

Madeleine curled her lips, resting her elbows on the dark oak hexagonal table, with a playful look on her face: "I was wondering, how could I enter the same dream with a stranger...I see."

"Executive."

"The group of black crows."

She also regarded Rose as an executive.

"Four to two... You can't leave, little crow."

Since he had been exposed, Roland simply patted Rose's shoulder, walked to the hexagonal table, found an empty seat, pulled out a chair and sat down.

"If you can, why don't you kill us now?"

The suppression of this dream was stronger than ever before.

Roland didn't believe that this woman could exert any power - if she had this ability, she wouldn't have to hide from place to place.

"Don't worry, pretty boy."

Madeline Terry was fearless, her eyes deepened: "When I get out of the dream, I will find you and eat your face, your father's and mother's faces..."

Before Roland could speak, old Shelley on the side coughed a few times and interrupted her threat.

"Say something useful, cultist."

His eyes were emotionless, even when he swept over his son, it was like looking at a lamp or a table.

-Even if his memory was fuzzy, he knew that his son had already embarked on a path that could not be turned back.

He understood him.

The monkey waving his arms was only to cover up his inner cowardice.

In this dream, John Shelley would not be his son.

Never.

"Or, what do you have in mind, 'Mr. Shelley'?" Old Shelley called his son, expressionless: "I hope that getting along with the cultists has not destroyed your brain, which is not smart to begin with - oh, we are on the same boat now, you want me to say less, I will say less, 'sir'."

John Shelley did not answer, but his fist hidden under the table clenched tightly.

"Have you walked the same road?"

Rose's position was next to Roland, and next to James Shelley.

"A forked path, with a church on one side and a hospital on the other?"

Old Shelley shook his head: "No, I woke up in this room..."

Roland pointed his index finger at the table, as if he had found the key to dreaming -

Rebecca Fiennes, a cultist.

Madeline Terry, a cultist.

As a "coordinate"... he was probably pulled into the dream by Rebecca Fiennes, while Old Shelley was implicated by his son and Madeline.

Then Rose...?

Thinking of this, Roland also had some doubts about this unrealistic guess:

Is it possible?

What kind of power can actively pull a ritualist into a dream?

He had never heard Fernandez say that.

All "coordinates" require the ritualist to take the initiative to contact them after falling asleep at midnight.

"Before-"

He wanted to ask old Shelley what he remembered.

But before he could finish, the sound of a door opening was heard in the room.

It was the sour friction sound of rusty hinges.

On the wall that no one noticed, during the conversation of several people, an upside-down red cross was dotted and spread into a short arch.

Someone pushed from behind the door.

It seemed that it had no strength, and the door opened very slowly...

Then.

Roland heard Ms. Rebecca screaming twice beside him.

There was a short girl behind the door.

She had bare pale feet, one of her thin arms was wrapped with a snake, and the other hung a key-shaped inverted cross with a silk thread.

As everyone watched, the girl used her shoulder to push open the archway little by little and got in.

——Holding her head in both hands.

“Good evening, pilgrims.”

The head in her arms smiled brightly.