The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 418 Ch.417 Blank Letter

The hangover was terrible.

Coupled with the fact that the ground was shaking all night long, and the howls of men and women could be heard in and out of the tavern - what else could one do this night but drink, besides drink too much?

There is nothing left to do.

The result of the men and women thinking of going together was that Roland, Kingsley and Rose didn't get a good rest.

This is a more unique way of welcoming Inns Town than being drunk.

At noon the next day, the three people who had overslept drowsily opened the door and saw each other who was also drowsy: especially Kingsley - this gentleman was extremely unsuited to such a 'liquorous' life. Compared to Nacimanlis, Banquet, obviously people in the mountains are more wild.

Women just lift up their skirts and you can tell what she's going to do next by whether there's a man next to her.

No peace.

Drowsiness, headache.

"I think I should put plugs in my ears." The detective said with a sullen face, enduring the stomach acid and sore throat: "...or give them plugs."

Roland yawned: "You can sleep in a warm and comfortable room, Kingsley, one must know contentment."

"If my father had known contentment, he wouldn't be here today." Judging from his behavior, Kingsley is definitely from a dissatisfied family - a rich young man who is dissatisfied with his father or mother and runs away to live the life he pursues.

But he mentioned his father from time to time without hiding his pride.

Mixed feelings.

Crunch.

Rose opened the door.

She didn't take off her clothes when she went to bed yesterday, and was held by Roland and put on the bed.

I even vomited once before.

I feel uncomfortable now.

"...Good day, you two."

"Good day, Miss Booze." Roland tucked a blanket over her, "If you're freezing, you have to stay in the room all day."

"Your song yesterday was so nice..." The slovenly girl scratched the top of her head and had not recovered from her daze - until she saw an old, long face with playful eyes.

Then he screamed, covered his head, turned around and fled back to the room.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

Twenty minutes later,

The three of them packed up and went downstairs to have lunch.

There was no one in the tavern, only Old Moore was left playing with the half-black and half-white rag, sweeping it boredly on the bar.

"Look, the heartthrob is down."

"Your performance yesterday was equally wonderful." Roland tapped his cane and sat closest to the bar. "I heard from my friend that you put six cigarettes in your mouth at the same time and smoked them all in just one minute. "

"Any old smoker who is not afraid of death can do this job," Old Moore waved his hand, went to the stove and picked up several trays with bread and vegetable soup, and added a small bowl of bacon, some light yellow sauce and Two bottles of light whiskey.

He pushed the bottle: "Elixir for sobering up."

"Where's Miss Paige?"

"Going to the mines, oh, I think she'll be back soon." He tugged on his watch chain, lowered his head and pushed open the pocket watch cover: "Normally, she wouldn't, but recently we had a guest, so she might escape back..."

"I think it's not just guests." Rose stirred the spoon and stabbed: "She is more 'cheerful' than any girl I have ever seen."

"I hope you won't be angry with her, miss. She is a good child, but sometimes she doesn't know how to express her thoughts properly."

Rose pursed her lips and said no more.

Just as Old Moore said, within ten minutes, a girl came back jumping.

"Hi! Dawson!"

Her face was covered with gray, and her hair had returned to the dirty wisps it had been when she first met.

Old Moore wiped her face and hands with a cloth soaked in water, and the girl let him do what he wanted, with her face always facing Roland, chattering about what she had seen today - who fell down in the mine, who drank too much yesterday , sleeping with the wrong wife.

These are all interesting things that she never gets tired of telling.

She still held the bird in her arms, its golden head emerged from her arms, and like its owner, she greeted everyone without fear of danger.

"You three, can I show you around? I'm familiar with it. I grew up here."

"Then I'd like to ask you for help." Roland smiled and turned to the other side: "My friend is preparing to come here to take over a store. If you can take us there..."

Black Nose William.

Paige mentioned it before.

"That old Japanese melon spirit." The blonde girl reminded Rose: "I don't know if your words count - but I have to say, be careful, Miss Curly Hair. That person is difficult to deal with, stingy and treacherous..."

"Who did you call Curly? Cinderblock."

"...We all give people nicknames like this." Paige blinked her blue eyes and said with extra sincerity, "Everyone does."

"What about him?" Rose pointed to the young man beside her, "How is he?"

“…angel of music.”

Roland's nickname is Music Angel, and my nickname is Curly Hair?

Rose laughed angrily: "Then what should I call my other friend?"

"Mr. Rock." After Peggy said it, Kingsley nodded slightly with satisfaction - it didn't sound like much at first, but everything needs to be compared.

Right? Green eyes and curly hair?

Rose:......

Is it just my nickname that sucks?

Did this cinderblock do it on purpose?

"How about we switch?" Roland was 'worried' that his partner would be angry, and asked with concern: "You are called 'Curly Angel' and I am Mr. Music? Are you satisfied?"

I was so satisfied that I became even more angry.

"As the Romans do, miss." Peggy stood up with a smile, greeted Old Moore, motioned for them to follow, and walked out quickly.

When passing by the bar, Old Moore apologized to the three people in a low voice.

And told them that there is no custom of giving nicknames to people here.

"But the curly-haired angel is really creative. Think about his daily life in heaven...he drinks too much and spits on someone's pants..."

"Shut your mouth, Dao Sen, sir."

It would remind her of last night's stupidity.

"I think you will only attract two things in your life: beautiful women, and beautiful women's vomit."

-

Oh, are you a beautiful woman?

"Of course not...you fucking-"

…………

…

"master."

The butler brought the black tea at a suitable temperature to the table, put it down gently, and waved away the maid in the room.

The old man behind the desk was smoking a pipe and flipping through the pages of information collected in the past two days——

Roland Collins.

and, Lillian Rose Vansittart.

He heard the butler's voice and raised his head.

"Miss...is it...?"

"Are you worried about her?" James Shelley put down the pile of paper full of words in his hand, held his pipe, and pressed it with an iron rod. "Are you worried about a girl who is even crazier than I was when I was young?"

The housekeeper bowed quietly: "It's your daughter."

The last.

He didn't say it, but old Shelley knew it.

"Someone is watching them, don't worry." James Shelley concentrated on piling up the snow mountain in the bowl, and suddenly smiled: "What do you think she will do?"

The housekeeper was stunned and suddenly thought of something.

"That... letter of yours?"

"Well, there's a blank piece of paper inside."

housekeeper:……

Sir, that is your daughter.

"With her character, she would never be cautious enough to open that letter on the road - then..."

James Shelley lowered his eyes and looked at the stack of papers recording Rose's past. They were just a few thin sheets, but they were extremely exciting.

The housekeeper frowned: "You want to interfere with the Street family's affairs? Although they and Chloe -"

"No, Tom," Old Shelley finished the bowl, took a few puffs on it, and pursed his lips a few times to let his mouth fully experience the taste of the smoke, "Street and Chloe have nothing to do with Shelley. We have our own mines and will never get involved in these troubles.”

he said.

"But if there is a trace of Heyman among Rose's enemies, I have to make some preparations in advance - the bigger the ship, the longer it will take to turn around."

Otherwise it will turn over.

"Hyman, Chloe, Heffer." Old Shelley spoke to the steward, as if talking to himself: "They cannot represent the secret party, and this great ship should not be controlled by the selfish desires of a group of people. "

James Shelley knew that although the poison in his body could not kill him, he was approaching the end of his life.

Lillian Rose Vansittart is obviously different from him. She cannot dance on the blades of people and can survive in words and conspiracies with ease.

Put it simply.

The kid's brain isn't crooked enough.

Therefore, he had to make "Shelley" a simple toy for her to play with while he was alive, rather than a huge battleship filled with explosives and full of parties and camps.

There is a small chance that she will blow herself up.

There is a high probability that the kid will jump off the ship.

"Street, this may be a good gift for our supreme lady." James Shelley said to himself: "I will also take out a share and give it to Lillian. When I die, she Know what to do - maybe I should talk to this Mr. Collins more, he's more dangerous than he appears."

The butler sighed: "You won't die, sir."

"Everyone dies, and so do immortals. Tom, prepare two copies of the details of the mine. Oh, by the way, what happened to 'that thing'."

"You still doubt..."

"This is necessary." Old Shelley interrupted him, but he had nothing to say, and there was a hint of complexity in his eyes.

The two remained silent for a long time.

After a while, the old man's hoarse voice sounded again: "I... at least make sure that it is Shelley's bloodline - the ghost in the dream... I can't completely believe what it says. To raise the reward, I want a magician who can detect bloodline. ”

The old housekeeper bowed his head and said yes.

Just before exiting the room, he suddenly asked:

"master."

"Um?"

"If...I mean, if. If the lady is not of your blood..."

The sound disappears.

The face in the gas lamp is cloudy and uncertain.

In the end, the old housekeeper failed to get the answer.

Perhaps neither did James Shelley.