The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 7 Ch.7 Ancient Occupations

The salesperson in this jewelry store was probably a competent one.

"Please allow me to put the brooch away first, ma'am."

The man was not young anymore, and there was ambiguity in his voice: he seemed to remember that he had just handed a ruby ​​brooch to the three ladies in front of him.

But now...

"Brooch? The red one you mean?"

Miss Toffee showed just the right amount of doubt:

Not denying it, but admitting it to a limited extent.

"I put it on the counter, here, you see, right in front of the price tag - I'm not blaming you, but these words are not very good." She scratched the counter with her fingertips.

Roland listened to them shirking their responsibilities back and forth for a few sentences, and as a result, the salesperson's voice was filled with tears.

"Holy Father! Don't be kidding!"

The three women were unmoved, and no matter who they asked, they said they put it on the counter and said they had never lied.

"Yes, it's right here, I told you."

The salesperson's voice became louder and louder.

So...

People around began to stand up for the injustice.

"It's your own responsibility, why do you question these three ladies?"

"Women have the ability to steal? That's not funny at all."

"I guess it must be a gentleman who boldly and skillfully moved the brooch away - I'm not praising, but it does require extremely superb skills."

"You also need to be brave enough."

"I think this is nothing compared to the theft case half a month ago: that case showed the thief's strength, balance and agility. I can't imagine how the man flipped over the three-story window sill, sneaked into the bedroom silently, and stole the property. After that, he also played the patrol around..."

"It must be a sturdy and powerful man."

"But how do you explain that it got into the narrow window?"

"This is not our headache."

The men around began to speak for the three sisters - rather than saying that they sympathized with them, it was better to say that they didn't think three women could do this.

That was too ridiculous.

The topic turned into a case discussion.

The salesperson was about to cry: "That's not cheap, everyone... everyone... please be kind..."

In the chaos, another salesperson bent over and got out from the gap between people.

As Roland expected.

Soon, the patrol police came.

This undoubtedly made the resentment in the store even stronger:

Some people grumbled that they had dates next; the ladies also emphasized that even women could not touch their bodies like skinning animals; even worse, they raised their canes and prohibited the patrol police from approaching them--

They were deadlocked for twenty minutes until Miss Toffee reluctantly said:

"... I will never come here again. You say, I brought servants out, but how should I explain to my husband when I go back?"

She grasped the "timing" very well.

The voices were chaotic, and they were all people who stood up for her.

Roland listened quietly.

To be honest, at this moment, the jewelry store was no different from a small market.

There were so many people talking and it was so crowded that the fragrance could no longer cover the sweat odor.

"… For your convenience, I am willing to let the ladies touch me and my servants. But I have to tell you that this is not a good start. And you, the salesperson who framed the kind people, just wait, you are not worthy of this job."

The girl reluctantly chose a lady to go to the back store, which also gave the male patrolman in the crowd something to say.

He first apologized to the gentlemen and ladies in the store, and then took the opportunity to make a more "excessive" request.

In short, including Roland, everyone was searched hastily by the police:

Most of the ladies' skirts had no pockets, which were complicated and heavy. This could not be said to require people to take off their clothes for a search - the searcher himself would not do such a thing.

So, she just touched the hem of the skirt casually and pinched their cuffs carefully a few times:

Yes.

This was considered a search.

The men were even simpler.

Another ten minutes.

The three patrolmen who found nothing had drooped their faces. They confirmed with the salesperson again and again, and after recording the lost brooch in the book, they bowed to apologize, and left in disgrace with sarcastic insults on the back of their heads.

This matter was over.

"I will never come again!"

Roland listened to the woman's triumphant venting of anger, and the crowd also moved out little by little in support.

Roland leaned against the counter, pretending to lower his head and pull the hem, and took the opportunity to reach out.

Just at the edge of the counter, below, he touched a piece of soft candy.

Sticky soft candy.

There was something on it.

It was the brooch.

He gently held the brooch in his hand.

At this moment.

A pair of thin and soft hands happened to collide with him.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

He could hear the other person's gradually heavier breathing.

"You're right. I can't come to this store that wrongly accuses a good person anymore." Roland said loudly, smiled in the direction of the woman, clenched the brooch, and pried her hand apart.

"Goodbye, ma'am. I hope tonight's banquet can dispel the unpleasantness just now..."

Under the gaze of the woman, Roland left the jewelry store step by step.

This should be the lost one.

Red, ruby, round brooch.

Miss Nina can't use it.

Roland tapped his cane, fiddled with the brooch in his hand, and walked slowly towards the way he had come - he deliberately chose a narrow, deserted alley to avoid the main street where there was more traffic and people.

Soon, dense footsteps came from behind.

The three women followed.

The footsteps are getting closer.

At a corner, he was grabbed by the arm and roughly 'thrown' against the wall.

A sharp dagger was pressed against his neck - besides that, there was an approaching voice that was no longer disguised.

Very young.

"...You took something you shouldn't have, sir."

she says.

The blade slid gently on Roland's neck and sank into the flesh again.

"I just picked up a brooch, madam." Roland was pressed against the wall, his face turned sideways, and his voice was light: "I picked it up."

"Hand it over and get out."

She no longer used her pretentious tone, and her tone was rude: "Otherwise, I will slap your little face - oh..."

The voice paused for a moment.

"You are so beautiful."

Roland pursed his lips and said nothing.

"Do you know how much that brooch is worth?" There was a smile in the voice. The blade was gently moved away from his neck, but the tip of the knife turned upward and began to roam on his cheek. "It's not as precious as your face. Or you'll be willing to give in after I stab you in the face a few times - wait."

She suddenly noticed something and shouted.

"You're blind!"

"Yes, ma'am." Roland didn't care about the cold blade on his face. He shook his head, tilted his head, and added softly: "You can call me Collins...Roland Collins."

Collins, Collins.

This town is not big, and the wealthy families are all famous.

She stared at the pale boy, looked at his beautiful but empty amber eyes, and slowly removed the blade...

next moment.

It stabbed into the brick wall next to Roland's cheek!

Clang——!

"Look, you little bastards, I don't want any trouble. The idiosyncrasies of you rich people have nothing to do with me - just hand over your stuff and go your separate ways."

Roland slowly took his hand out of his pocket.

He showed her the brooch in his palm, and then immediately grabbed it.

"I do have a hobby."

Roland whispered softly: "Something is always lost: small leather shoes, engraved knives and forks, brand new shirts or oil lampshades... I think the person who picked them up is different from me. She should have somewhere to sell these expensive things. Something...are you right?”

Roland felt that the arm holding his chest suddenly became stronger.

Very hard.

"what do you want."

The woman gritted her teeth, as if waiting for him to say something rude.

Roland blinked: "I want twenty female cat whiskers." To be on the safe side, he doubled the number.

"The female cat's."

Gender was also emphasized.

The silence that followed those words was longer than any before.

The woman let go of him and pulled the dagger out of the brick—even taking a few steps back.

"What's wrong with you?"

Her voice was very strange.

"I've told you all my problems." Roland adjusted his collar and smiled: "I want twenty female cat whiskers, one can be small, but it must be pure, sharp sapphire, and a jar to look at women. The oil in the oil lamp that I cried all night..."

The strange and weird things made the woman laugh out loud.

"Ha...haha...you are so interesting..."

"Then do you agree?"

Roland spread his palm and sent the brooch forward.