The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 401 Ch.400 Bottle and Horse Racing

Roland handed the Inquisition an empty mystery box.

What?

Is there anything else inside?

He doesn't know.

James Shelley only kept the box in his hands for one night after giving it to him. Early the next morning, he sent it to the court without stopping - how could he know what was in it?

Enid seemed indifferent.

She said that there was indeed a secret in this thing, but it had nothing to do with her or Roland. It was something that the real big shots should consider.

Just don't be curious.

"This thing can't make you an immortal, so Roland, handing it over to the Tribunal is a very good choice."

Roland was used to Enid's indifference to many things.

The metal magic box may not be as important as the hairband on her head and the jewelry on her neck - Roland could imagine her sitting next to the red-burning fireplace, wearing a soft, uncomplicated indoor skirt, humming a song, singing on the rocks. Warming her coffee or tea on the board.

She left a few books on the coffee table so that she could read them on the sofa.

There seemed to be a few more oil paintings in the room, some silver platters holding candies (they did hold them, but they were usually eaten only on special occasions), and fresh fruits and vegetables.

No matter how cold the morning is, it can't disturb her.

This is her home.

And Roland is her husband waiting to return in the snow.

"You are more like my wife than the presiding judge." The young man on the sofa said this out of nowhere, clasping the ear of his cup.

It really shocked the woman.

"Roland?" Enid shook her nightgown, changed from peach to straight waist, and closed the cupboard door smoothly: "I would like to, but my status does not allow me to be anyone's wife."

"Maybe, wait for the next presiding judge?"

"There won't be another one, my dear." Enid passed by with the smell of lavender, and smoothed out Roland's black hair from his back, "Holy Cross will not allow me to have such an ill-behaved person after me. thing."

"Victoria won't allow it either."

"Really?" Roland was noncommittal.

He and she rarely discussed matters involving big shots—perhaps they both agreed that those things that did not suit their tastes were not dishes on their table.

"I plan to go back to Fork County." He put down the cup, just as the woman sat down and snuggled over.

Roland took advantage of the situation and took her into his arms, watching silently as her soft snake got into his shirt, took out a cigar, moistened his lips playfully, and lightly scratched the cigar cap with his nails. scissors.

"Fork County?"

Enid put the cigar into Roland's mouth, and a flame burst from her fingertips.

"Don't touch the secret anymore. "Roland had no choice but to say, "Sir, Enid. "

The woman smiled and said nothing, just caressing her gifted walking tools and showing them to the man next to her as they moved up and down each other. The bottom of her nightgown was the same as the pockets of homeless people in the East Side slums.

Enid always had new tricks up her sleeve, and Roland wondered if whenever she was alone, she would put on a black robe, cover the upper part of her face with a hood, and put on a big woolen scarf to hide from the executive. They sneaked out of the courtroom.

Call a stagecoach, promise not to miss a penny including tolls, and ask the driver to take her to the filthiest and most obscene places in the East End.

Then find a teacher and listen to 'knowledge' all night.

——Although Enid always said that it was born in the blood, just like men know how to push forward when they grow up, so do women.

Roland didn't believe it.

The blood is born with emotions, heat, and kissing.

He didn't think 'nature' could teach Enid how to be like a great hound, or even better than a great hound.

He couldn't develop that much strength by smoking a cigar, as if she had seven or eight lungs.

"In the next two days, the executive will go to Shelley's house and question your little friend and old Shelley - you can tell them that there won't be anything difficult to answer, but don't talk about the mystery box."

Enid leaned into Roland's increasingly generous arms, and her brown hair, like every emotion she didn't want to leave, either got into his shirt, or was wrapped around buttons or hidden in his vest.

"I know."

Roland nodded.

"I will leave after the questioning, which will take about one to two weeks - to get my carers to London."

The woman in her arms moved and rubbed.

Two legs were draped on the coffee table.

"Have you thought about it?"

Enid asked.

Roland has never mentioned James Jones since arriving in London, but she knows very well that for Roland, the most important thing is James Jones:

The more important it is, the more cautious it is.

She thought he would spend some time and money to move Pugh Collins somewhere far away from London.

Perhaps he would never see James Jones or his uncle again in his lifetime.

Unexpectedly.

"Maybe it's selfish of me to think this way, Enid, but I want to keep Yam by my side - and it's possible that she feels the same way."

Enid leaned into his arms.

"It's not possible, Roland, she must think so."

But the woman hesitated.

Jonayam Jones arrives in London…

"Maybe you shouldn't tell her about us, Roland," Enid said.

She was worried about what James Jones would say to Roland after he found out about their relationship, which would lead to results she didn't want to see - for example, staying away from a nasty and shameless silver woman.

She was not sure whether Roland would listen to the woman, but she was indeed worried.

"Between us?"

Roland held her thin shoulders and asked knowingly: "What's going on between us?"

The woman pulled her skirt to her waist and blew hot air into her man's ear: "Bad boy."

He showed Roland the invisible stockings and shorts he had just bought under his skirt.

And the ten rose-colored toes.

"I learned a new trick, Roland."

She slowly heated it like heating an elephant with a flame: "New, interesting..."

Generally speaking, only those who have lost their arms and have no one to serve them will think of using the other two limbs that should have been used for walking to do other things - for example, pick up a fork or spoon and handle daily necessities.

Especially ladies.

If you have lost your arms and have no one to serve you, it would be difficult to clean the medicine bottle that fell on the ground.

The disabled girl had to learn to use her feet, first using the left foot to block the back of the medicine bottle as a support.

At the same time, the right foot held the bottle body and repeatedly washed it under the water.

Her big toe and other toes should be separated like a fork made of flesh and blood, and her wrist should be flexible enough, and her calves and thighs should be strong enough.

She needs to lean on something - if she really has no arms.

In short, this medicine bottle that fell into the mud definitely reflects how much difficulty people with disabled arms have to face in life, but I think they probably can't arouse anyone's sympathy - if they just wash the bottle, who knows what will attract admiration and praise.

Maybe there is also the sound of horses breathing in and out after the horse race.

Horses have bigger lungs, and sometimes people can make their lungs bigger, breathe bigger, and make bottles bigger in some subtle situations.

Roland originally wanted to talk to Enid about Falk County, his thief friend and the Shelley family, but now, he is like a horse who has just finished a race, and he doesn't care whether he wins or falls to the end.

That doesn't matter.

Victory and defeat belong to humans, and horses are only responsible for enjoying running.