The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 416 Ch.415 Awkward Detective

evening.

The atmosphere is lively.

People in "Barbeque Hands" drink from big cups and don't care about the dregs in the beer and the inferior liquor that makes their throats uncomfortable - they don't have much entertainment, and alcohol is the best choice.

It can make people have a less painful dream.

Someone slapped the table and talked about what stupid thing the Supreme did recently.

Some people were asking around whose man had broken his leg, whose wife had slept with whom, and they drank a lot of wine amidst yells and screams of laughter.

The children were running around in the gaps between the tables, occasionally grabbing half a piece of bread or the remaining chips from a basket and stuffing them into their mouths without breaking them.

The younger girl, with more obvious intentions, would always pass by Roland by accident and say hello to him a few times.

Peggy laughed, Rose was annoyed, and Kingsley looked as expressionless as a statue.

"Is it so lively every day?"

Roland asked loudly.

"One day a week," Peggy yelled back.

Kingsley suddenly said: "It's no wonder."

"What 'no wonder'?"

"Prices in the mining area will not be so low, miss. The prices in this tavern are abnormal - especially the lowest-quality food and drinks. We are travelers, do you think we have never seen the prices in other cities?"

Kingsley's eyes were heavy: "So, no wonder these people have the money to come here every day to enjoy themselves."

A large loaf of brown bread cost only a quarter of a penny, and there were discounts on beer.

A basket of chips and fried fish only costs two pennies, and if the miners have a better deal - can anyone else eat and drink here?

How much does this pub lose every week?

Kingsley stared at the plate of fish, lost in thought.

Peggy frowned and spoke sharply: "Is this considered 'enjoyment'? Sir, do you know what miners usually do? Drinking the lowest grade beer, eating a few pieces of black bread and dead fish is called 'enjoyment' '?"

Kingsley's answer was slightly cold: "For them, this is enjoyment."

People who drink often know that the excitement at the beginning is not very lively.

The real carnival will come when everyone is drunk and talking incoherently. Before they can completely get down, their hearts and heads are floating together. No matter how serious they were during the day, now only silly laughter is left.

This is the truly happy time.

Rose drank a little too much.

"It's all your fault..."

She hugged the wooden cup, her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes became moist and sticky, like endless threads stuck to Roland's face.

——When someone came to the table to talk to Roland and invite him to drink, the snitch picked up the wine and drank it all in one gulp, making the other girls laugh incessantly.

Roland also drank a lot, and his stomach was pounding.

"Come on! It's time!"

Someone shouted.

Old Moore drank the beer in the extra-large cup amidst the cheers of the crowd, wiped his mouth, took out a piano from behind the bar, and waved to Peggy.

"The clever sparrow of the mine!"

"Our Peggy!"

"Hurry! Come on!"

Paige's drinking capacity is astonishing, and even now she doesn't seem to be drunk at all. She hugged Roland and shouted in his ear:

"Watch me show you, Dawson."

She stood up amidst screams, greeted all parties, walked up to the front desk amidst looks and shouts, bowed her knees and sat down on the wooden bar.

Take the old Moore's piano.

This action silenced the tavern instantly - except for Roland and his party, everyone seemed to know what was going to happen.

She started to play the piano.

The girl with a good voice began to play the piano, interspersing the sound of the piano with singing.

It's a nursery rhyme from the town of Inns.

"...What's so great about it."

Rose glanced at the girl at the bar who was attracting everyone's attention and muttered: "It's not that difficult."

Kingsley glanced at Roland.

When the piano appeared, he immediately noticed the incongruity:

A miner's daughter can never play the piano.

The most she could play in her life was her husband's small cigarette.

Let’s look at the popularity of Miss Peggy…

Obviously, she is not as ordinary as she said.

"Mr. Kingsley."

"Ro...Dawson?"

"How long have you been doing this?" Roland asked, holding the wine glass.

"Less than five years."

"Oh," Roland nodded: "So, three months?"

Kingsley's cold face finally melted away, revealing a smile: "To be exact, four and a half months."

"Here, we'd better get our act together."

Kingsley frowned slightly, puzzled: "I have a gun, and my fists and feet are enough to knock down a strong man. But you and your friends had better follow me."

Roland noticed that he cared about the truth and his 'hobbies' - but he didn't care about winning or losing in verbal exchanges.

Therefore, the subtext of this sentence is:

"Why do you say that?"

Or what exactly Roland discovered.

"I can conclude now that you must have been involved in some high-risk cases behind your father's or mother's back." The young man who closed his eyes laughed and said, "They never told you, don't get curious like a cat about certain things. ”

"I've seen more dangerous things." Kingsley took a sip of wine and said, "For example, monsters."

he said.

"monster?"

"Yes, a deformed monster." Kingsley was silent for a moment, hesitating how to describe the thing to Roland, "...hidden from the sun, in the cellar."

he said.

It's a cannibal. It looks ugly, but it always gives people the illusion of being 'beautiful'...

"What happened next?" Rose asked.

"Later, some people who specialize in dealing with monsters killed it with holy water and bullets - so, sir, madam, I want to tell you: I am not an inexperienced person. I have witnessed many horrific crimes."

Kingsley said.

He didn't work as a detective for long. Before graduation, he specialized in studying corpses and hanging out with doctors.

But whether it's a corpse, a doctor or a detective, it's not a decent job.

What is truly decent should be 'not working'.

"...My father hopes that I won't even touch the doctor, and just lie down and wait for the inherited gold to fall on my head and make me dizzy." Kingsley sneered: "But you have to have your own ideas. If you want Of, chasing.”

"The difference between humans and hounds is that we use our heads to think which way to go."

Kingsley said.

Roland did not express his approval or objection, but only added after these words: "...In fact, there is no difference between humans and hounds, Mr. Kingsley. Hounds obey the orders of their masters, and people often obey the orders of the wall."

"wall?"

"Yeah, those walls you can't see, they say: There is only one way, and you actually have no choice."

Kingsley couldn't understand what Roland meant.

In his view, many things are left to people's choice. Even miners as despicable as these can choose whether to do this job - if they are smart enough, they should know that they can quit such a dangerous and unprofitable job and switch to another job. Instead, run something safer and more profitable.

Like his father.

For example, sell something to make more and more money in your hands.

Then buy some boats.

I won’t have to worry about food and drink for the rest of my life.

He thought so and told Roland the same thing.

"I really hope the world is as brilliant as you describe it." Roland smiled and touched his glass with his. "May your wish come true."

Kingsley frowned: "You don't think so? As long as people work hard -"

"I don't think so, but it doesn't stop us from becoming friends, Mr. Kingsley." Roland raised his glass: "Give the carnival back to the carnival. Winter is cold enough, so you don't have to keep it snowing indoors."

Mr. Detective looked at the wine in his hand.

Drink it all in one gulp.

"I do... think you and this lady have some unusual wisdom. I am happy to become friends with you."

He said dryly.

Rose silently rolled her eyes.

Take a look.

Some people are like that.

When you get to know someone, you have to reach down, and you need to have a thorn in your compliments.