The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 387 Ch.386 This is life

“The workhouse lunches were very generous.”

"People who have not lived here have no idea that you can actually enjoy broth." The man handed out the soup and chanted loudly: "That is broth, by the Holy Father!"

Soon, someone among the children started talking in a low voice.

"Yes, I guess there should be a huge urn somewhere in the county."

"The directors would gather around, cut off a piece of meat the size of a fingernail, and put it into a vat to cook."

"Then supplying the workhouses throughout the county."

The poor boy was slapped on the back of the head by a passing director, grinned, and did not dare to speak anymore.

"Roland, have you heard?"

He and Roland were separated by one person, so they were very noisy every day.

"I heard that James Jones seems to be..."

Little Roland frowned and put the bowl down.

"Yam, what's wrong?"

"I heard that she seems to be..." The boy who spoke looked around and said in a low voice, "...she seems to have become a new invitee."

Snap.

The wooden spoon full of burrs in his hand fell into the turbid soup.

Invitees.

Little Roland knew.

That was a word that Yam never allowed him to touch, mix with, or even discuss with others.

Invitees.

Invited by whom?

Directors.

Who to invite?

Workhouse mud toes.

do what?

Young Roland didn't know. He has an enviable face, but he doesn't have eyes that can see the truth clearly.

He fumbled, holding the handle of the spoon, stirred the weak soup a few times, picked up the bowl and drank it all in one gulp.

"...Yam is fine."

He muttered.

"Ah, of course, let me tell you, your 'mother' is very lovable..."

The talkative boy glanced at his blind friend several times with a sly look. He obviously knew what was going on between adults, and perhaps he had repeatedly guessed for countless nights how happy he would be when he shivered in those three or two minutes.

"Did she touch you?"

Roland was confused: "What?"

"I asked, did she touch you?" The boy smiled evilly: "It's not the face. You know, just some..."

The more little Roland heard, the more something was wrong.

Until the boys at the same table started to boo: "He means, Roland! Are you a little husband? Yam Jones's little husband! Hahahaha——"

Bang.

Dishes were dropped, shouts and cries mixed together.

…………

…

Sometimes people are malicious for no reason.

Or because it's fun, or pure sadism drives them to have some fun and find a useful target among the crowd to play with.

But often at this time, the real authority does not think that these "thorns" in provoking trouble are the culprits.

For example, Director Abner, such as Director Miguel.

They agreed that the workhouse educated men as well as women.

If a man loses in a dispute, he does not have enough fans, is not popular enough, and is repeatedly defeated in battles - and at the same time, he has a face that is prettier than a woman.

Then, he is unqualified.

It's a weak, defective product.

Defective products are not qualified to reason.

It was the bad luck he should have suffered a long time ago.

Therefore, what is right and wrong in the workhouse is not the same as what is right and wrong in the whole county and the whole country.

Every time when little Roland was imprisoned in a cold cellar and chatted with the insects that crawled over his palms, forearms, and crawled into his collar, he was always looking forward to which director, with the pungent smell of sweat and heavy footsteps, could really stand up. Come out and speak for yourself:

‘Roland! Jam Jones! Life is difficult for these two! You are not allowed to bully or spread rumors anymore! ’

If a director really does this and does it like a hero, he will swear to all the powerful people in the world:

When he grows up, you must repay him.

But little Roland often thinks the other way around: What can he repay?

A gift of two or three pennies a week?

Crunch.

The cellars were gently pushed aside.

Someone tiptoed down the stone stairs. This step was familiar to little Roland - he was different from normal people, he couldn't see, but his ears were very powerful.

"Yam?"

The visitor didn't say anything, walked through the barrels and abandoned shelves, went to the corner, and squatted in front of the ball-kneed boy.

"You're such a killer, do you want me to worry to death?"

The woman scolded him, scolded him for not knowing what was serious, and got into a fight with the three or four boys, causing injuries all over his body.

Little Roland closed his mouth and let her push his hair away, looking at the bruises on his body, and pressed it a few times with his rough fingertips.

"Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt."

If he dared to shout that it hurt, Yam would say: Do you know it hurts now?

"A tough talk will not make you more of a man. Instead, you will be looked down upon just like that fool who was drunk and boasting nonsense."

"...It hurts a little."

"Do you know it hurts now?"

Little Roland:......

"You sharp-beaked bird pecks here and there, don't you know they are in the same group?"

Little Roland turned away and avoided her hand: "They say I am your little husband."

Yam smiled freely: "Oh, I would like a beautiful little husband like you... Roland, you promised me not to fight with others, right?"

"They insult you."

"What kind of insult is this?" James Jones is different from the women in the workhouse in this way. In some aspects, she seems to see much further than they do: "What kind of insult is this? Boy, let me see it, but it's solid Real praise.”

she said.

Roland blinked: "Why?"

Yam just smiled, but his hand quickly reached into Roland's clothes and applied the cold ointment to his back.

"Don't fight with others anymore. That's disgraceful. Don't listen to what the directors say about puffing out your chest, clenching your fists, and pounce for a little bit of honor and dignity - Roland, although the Father of All Things didn't give you a strong body, he Gave you a bright mind.”

"Use your head, Roland."

"That would be better than a thousand pairs of fists."

The boy who was held in his arms was not satisfied with Yam's words: "...but I still want to have a strong body."

Little Roland didn't know what his mind could do, but he knew that a pair of powerful fists could definitely solve the current problem.

"I've told Director Miguel about you, Roland, listen."

She pressed the boy's shoulders and said word by word:

"He promised that he would find a priest from the county, a real, real priest, to show you... Once this is done, no one can say that you are evil..."

Little Roland was a little worried.

"…looks like?"

"Yes, just put on a show." Yam touched his soft hair and comforted: "My child has been seen by the pastor, and there is nothing wrong with him at all - that's how he looks."

"When it's done, no one will dare to talk about us again."

Roland asked in a low voice: "...He won't hit me?"

"I won't hit you." Yam pinched his nose. He felt that his child was cute and beautiful. He would definitely be a heartthrob in the future: "At most, I can get some water or touch your legs with branches and leaves. It's better than you." It’s much easier to shake fists at those jerks while eating.”

Little Roland was silent for a few seconds.

"That…"

He suddenly raised his head.

"Director Miguel, sir, is your husband now...right, Yam?"

The woman was silent for a few more seconds.

He just hugged Roland into his arms again and patted his back.

"this is life."

"Roland."