The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 406 Ch.405 Kingsley's Apology

When the train stopped at two stations and they were halfway through their journey, the door was knocked again.

Rose was playing chess with old Collins on the coffee table in the compartment.

The two of them were discussing the rules and guessing what the chess pieces were for, having a lot of fun.

The door was knocked at this moment.

It was the young man who was described by Rose as a 'stupid detective'.

Kingsley.

He was not wearing a cloak, only a gray vest over a white shirt.

He was carrying a bottle of red wine.

"Good afternoon, sir, miss."

He pulled the muscles on both sides, and his awkward smile really couldn't smooth the sharp lines on his face-he was born to be serious and not good at dealing with people.

"I brought a bottle of red wine."

He raised it.

Old Collins seemed to know what he was going to do. He didn't ask any more questions, just snorted and made way.

Four glasses of wine, with not-so-high-quality minced meat and baked egg rolls, a barely adequate meal - for Kingsley, but the other three ate it with great enthusiasm.

Their identities didn't seem to match this carriage.

Kingsley subconsciously began to speculate on the purpose, origin, and family background of these three people. When he saw the messy chess on the coffee table, he was more certain that they did not belong in this carriage.

He was very curious.

"Can I ask you how you know that the woman is a thief?"

He could understand Roland's method, but this girl's "intuition" was really weird. How did she know that the woman was a thief?

"Me?"

Rose put down her fork and touched the corner of her mouth with a cloth: "Because I found out that she lied."

"How did you find out?"

"I don't know, Mr. Kingsley. Maybe I learned it naturally after dealing with people more?" Rose mastered this special skill, but she couldn't express it clearly in words, "Or, you try it?"

Kingsley pinched the wine glass: "Try it?"

"Let me ask a few questions, of course, you can choose to lie or not."

Rose sat up straight and folded her hands on her legs: "Can you play chess?"

"You mean this thing?" Kingsley glanced at the coffee table, "Of course."

Rose: "Oh, then you like to drink too?"

Kingsley: "Of course."

Rose: "You love to solve cases. Compared with life, the profession of detective is more of a hobby?"

Kingsley nodded.

Rose asked again: "Where were you born?"

Kingsley paused for a moment and answered: "...Liverpool."

Rose: "Do you remember how many street lights there were on the platform we went down before?"

"...Five."

"Do you like hunting, or do you prefer to watch boxing matches, or horse racing?"

"...Boxing matches."

The questions are over.

"You lied twice, didn't you?" The girl smiled slyly: "You were probably not born in Liverpool, and you don't like boxing matches."

Kingsley was very surprised.

The old-looking young man couldn't figure it out, and his eyebrows were about to be connected: "Did my actions or my tone make you see the flaw?"

He tried to restore the whole process.

"Oh, this is a method I summed up before, and it's no big deal to teach you."

Rose said.

It's very simple.

First, you have to ask the person you choose some questions that "almost never lie" - note that it is almost never, so the questions must be simple and there is no need for him to lie.

"You need to observe this person."

Rose leaned forward, Kingsley's pale face reflected in her jewel-colored eyes.

"Observe him, observe his little movements and tone when he is not lying, and all his reactions."

She said.

After that.

Ask some questions that require brains.

"What do you mean by questions that require brains?" Kingsley interrupted.

"For example, how many street lights were there on the previous platform?" She tapped her temple with her fingertips: "You always have to recall and think, right?"

But once people start to recall and think, it is difficult to control their movements and tone.

"You gave the right answer after thinking," Lillian said: "But when I asked you where you were born-"

Kingsley's reaction was completely different from before.

He had new little movements.

The tone also changed a little.

"The same is true for boxing matches."

Rose finished speaking, picked up the wine glass and took a sip.

"I don't know if anyone has discovered this method. I think it is very useful-many times, people can't fool my eyes..."

Unless, it is a person who is very good at lying.

Kingsley listened, shook the red soft cloth in the wine glass, and was silent for a long time.

The logic is correct.

But if Kingsley remembers correctly, the young lady identified who was innocent and who was a thief when she saw the three people for the first time - no one spoke at that time.

This is different from the "method" she talked about.

So, everyone has a secret.

Roland did not speak either, just pinched his cigar, sank into the comfortable sofa and closed his eyes to rest.

About five minutes later?

Kingsley suddenly put down the wine glass, stood up and stepped back.

He bowed deeply to Roland and Lillian: this way of greeting can never be compared with the gentleman's chest-touching greeting or the lady's kneeling greeting - this bow not only shows respect, but also adds a little respect for others.

Theoretically speaking, no one would do such a courtesy if their status was not much different or in an informal setting.

"gentlemen?"

Rose was in a panic and looked at Roland for help - she hadn't learned this lesson yet.

"No, you deserve this."

After Kingsley bowed, he sat back down with a straight face as if nothing had happened.

"I must apologize to you, Miss Vansittart, and to Mr. Collins."

he said.

"My humble origins blinded me to the truth; wine and sweet meats made me sad and arrogant - I had an incomparably stupid vulgarity to your gender, your identity, including Mr. Collins' appearance. judge."

That was the view in the newspapers, Kingsley, Kingsley.

If you follow the newspaper, what is the difference between you and most stupid people?

Running away from home to pursue the life you want is not just to learn to look at people with your chin.

"I don't think you have ordinary people's logic," he stared at Lilian, and then turned to Roland: "I think you are probably a weakling, not smart, only smooth-talking, delicate and frail, relying on flattery to maintain your strength. born."

he said.

“It’s better for me to believe that you and your friends are smarter than the average person and that an octopus is roaming the lawn.”

Kingsley's face was expressionless, but his tone was extremely candid: "I once thought so, but you and your friends have shown me what true wisdom and experience are - so, sir, madam, I want to solemnly apologize."

"For my ignorance and arrogance."

Rose blinked, a little unable to bear the man's expressionless "seriousness", and tugged at Roland: "I don't hate him so much now."

Roland was helpless: "You can say it openly, Rose, he is right opposite you."

The girl stepped on him in shame.

"This is normal, Mr. Kingsley. I advise you not to take it to heart. It is the stupidest way to hurt someone with words. It not only increases the number of enemies, but also does not hurt him at all." Roland smiled and walked from the table. He pulled a leather box over and opened it.

"Want to smoke one?"

he invited.

"...My father often smokes, and I'm not very experienced." Kingsley hesitated for a moment, then picked up one. "You just said that hurtful words are the stupidest thing. I'm afraid many people won't agree."

"Of course, this is just my personal opinion." Roland ignored him and asked him to cut it and light the fire.

"So you are a 'silent'?"

"I am an activist, Mr. Kingsley." Roland tilted his head towards Rose: "We are all."

Kingsley.

"Not to mention his business ability, he is not a bad person."

-

I am biased, but after knowing my mistakes, I have the courage to face them calmly.

This was far more than he had ever seen.

There are too many people. Even if the whole city of London finds out when he puts the thing into the horse's butt, he will shout loudly: "God! My foot slipped!"

——Even though everyone in London, as well as the horse, knew that he was not.

So, Mr. Kingsley is quite interesting.

The man with a straight face doesn't seem to be too old, but he looks...a bit mature?

"Where are you going?"

"Lancashire." Kingsley followed Roland's example and took a breath, rinsed it in his mouth several times, and spat it out piece by piece, "Lancashire, Innstown, do you know?"