The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 503 Ch.502 Bronte’s wish

After Glenn left, Randolph finally relaxed.

He sank into the sofa, closed his eyes and thought deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose again and again.

After a few minutes, he got up and went to the other side of the living room: the fireplace, where Roland was sitting.

At this time, the man by the fireplace had finished smoking a cigar, and was humming a song boredly, chatting with Teresa.

When Randolph came over, Teresa immediately bowed and bowed, and slowly exited the living room.

"There are all kinds of troubles every day."

The sharp-faced businessman let out a long sigh, as if he wanted to blow out the flames in the fireplace.

"People like this every day."

"I see you enjoy it." Roland turned over a glass, flicked it with his fingers, and pushed it in front of Randolph.

"I'll tell you, my brother. Only the most boring and stupid people who can't find anything interesting except toying with others will enjoy it." Randolph whispered back and picked up the bottle. , poured roughly into the wide-mouthed cup.

Goo-dong, goo-dong, goo-dong.

He held the rim of the cup, leaned over and knocked the cup in front of Roland, and after a not-so-clear sound, he raised his head and drank it all in one gulp.

Pull off the tie and untie the gray button that traps your neck.

Loosen your cervical spine left and right.

"I'm very tired, Roland. This is what a businessman is." In fact, he didn't tell Roland exactly, but no one could listen to him on weekdays. "I have to be careful to deal with those who are lower than me, pretending to be different based on their position, role and background. characters, using different tones to achieve various purposes.”

"Similarly, I have to be careful when dealing with those masters who are higher than me. Like Glenn, I analyze every word in their every sentence word by word, pick out a few key words from the bloated nonsense, and put it in my mouth Chewing, guessing.”

As he spoke, he uttered curse words.

"It's just like a piece of fucking shit. I have to behave politely and scoop it up with a special spoon according to etiquette. I can't make a disgraceful expression while tasting it."

His narrow eyes were staring at the fireplace with extremely mean eyes, watching the occasional popping sparks, watching them suddenly explode like his own emotions, and then turn into ashes in the next second.

The wine glass is filled for the second time.

Drink it all in one gulp the second time.

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself, Randolph. Maybe I shouldn't put more trouble on you - I mean, the Fountain of Youth."

Randolph silently glanced at Roland and sneered: "If Golden Smoke is like our supreme little girl, the Fountain of Youth is just your snitch or..." He suddenly lowered his voice and looked around thiefly, "...or Bo lant.”

Roland suddenly spoke loudly: "Why are you so quiet?"

Randolph gave him an elbow, and after a while, he laughed softly.

The two of us drank wine silently.

Until the bottle of whiskey bottoms out.

"... Frankly speaking, I admit that I did something wrong." Randolph put down the wine glass, a trace of fatigue flashed across his face, bent over, and turned his head to Roland: "That is the "Fountain of Youth" of Lillian, Roland and Randolph. ”. This is not the second "Golden Smoke" from the Taylor family. "

Roland said nothing.

"What I mean is... Roland, I am like a hen hatching eggs, but my name shouldn't be the only one on the eggshell."

Hines' behavior made Randolph suddenly realize that he had overlooked something before - the long-term "dictatorship" made him forget that the "Fountain of Youth" did not belong to him alone.

"We agreed before." Roland said lightly.

"I regret it now," a cunning look flashed in the businessman's eyes, and he lowered his voice: "Listen, Roland. I don't care what your relationship is with our 'dexterous' girl - I will visit before the end of winter. Your loved ones."

"I don't want you to kick in my door one day and ask me, 'Isn't that our common cause?'"

Roland laughed: "Of course not, Randolph. I am not such a person."

"Of course I know you don't-"

"You will only find Miss Bronte and your sister in my bedroom."

Randolph: ...

"Fake, Roland, I'm talking to you about business."

Roland rubbed the non-existent beard on his upper lip with his fingers and stroked it a few times in a decent manner: "You can only take one person away..."

"Roland."

"And then something very terrible happens."

"Roland."

"Don't you want to know what the terrible thing is?"

Randolph: ...

Seeing as I can't beat him.

"What a terrible thing."

Roland: "You have to tell me first who you want to take away."

Randolph: "...me, sister?"

Roland: "Your sister won't leave with you."

Randolph: ...

Whoosh.

"Okay. Okay. Roland, I choose Miss Bronte."

Roland: "Bronte won't leave with you either."

These words made Randolph slam the table: "There's no way she won't leave with me!"

Roland blinked.

Without waiting for an answer, Randolph heard a crisp 'ah' not far behind him.

The sleepy Beatrice pulled Bronte.

"I just played 'no sound' with the little bear... Roland, please don't take Bronte away... I... can go with you..."

"What a good girl who sacrifices herself for others."

The girl with messy blond hair shook off Bronte's hand, ran over, and fell into Roland's arms, purring like an overgrown cat.

Then.

Only Brontë and Randolph were left staring at each other silently.

Brontë:?

Randolph: Just talking, really.

…………

……

This kind of annoying prank can't deepen the relationship between two men and women who know each other well (maybe?), but will make them more embarrassed.

For example, when Roland hugged Beatrice and told stories.

Randolph has already started to calculate in his mind which city Golden Smoke should open a branch next year...

He didn't know what to say to Brontë.

But someone knew.

The voice of that damn man came to my ears.

Roland: We praise the Father of All Things because He performs miracles on earth.

Beatrice: Really?

Roland: Of course. Let me tell you quietly, Betty, there are many such miracles recorded in the files.

Beatrice: What is a file?

Roland: A collection of stories.

Beatrice: Oh. What about miracles?

Roland: This is the greatness of the Father of All Things. You know the All-Father, right?

Beatrice: Yes! Yes!

Roland: Great. Miracles are... For example, I'm just assuming.

Beatrice: Oh.

Roland: Suppose one day, your brother and Miss Bronte travel.

Beatrice: Little Bear and brother?

Roland: That's right. The two of them were traveling by car, but they encountered a rockfall on the road. The huge rock smashed half of Randolph's body, and he vomited blood and was almost dead--

Beatrice: Don't want my brother to die!

Roland: Of course, of course. At this time, Bronte prayed to the All-Father. She prayed, saying, 'All-Father, the noble and great Father God. Please have mercy on me, a poor woman who is about to leave with love...'

Roland: Guess what?

(Beatrice concentrates)

Roland: A person with dazzling golden light all over his body has arrived!

Beatrice (surprised): My brother is alive!

Roland: No, no, it was the All-Father, dear. He saw the suffering on earth and sent down a gift.

Roland: He asked the praying woman, and the tearful Brontë: ‘I heard your prayer, child. I saw your suffering.’

Roland: ‘Please help me! Father!’ Brontë pleaded.

Roland: The All-Father loves all living things. Of course, He agreed to Brontë’s plea. He said that she was devout enough, so He could grant her one wish - no matter what.

Roland: Brontë couldn’t believe it - ‘Really? Father God?’

Roland: The All-Father nodded lovingly.

Roland: ‘Anything?’

Roland: ‘Anything, child.’ The All-Father said.

Beatrice (clapping and urging): Then! Then!

Roland: Then. Miss Bronte knelt beside Randolph's broken body, tightly holding his bloody palm...

Roland: 'Please let my novel be popular all over the country! '

Randolph: ...

Bronte: Phew.