The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 93 Ch92 Letter

Chapter 93 Ch.92 Letter

The way back is faster than the way there.

Crow will go to other places after this mission - he is not a member of the Devinson team. This time, he appears not only to target the aliens, but also to protect Roland and Shandel.

More importantly, it is Roland.

Fernandez does not want this thriving sapling to die in a mission.

He still has some feelings for Crow.

As for the next mission...

He would rather Roland stop at this step, and he would apply to Lady Enid for personnel for each high-risk mission, rather than Roland rashly embarking on an unknown great road.

But he has no say.

"The big fool really cares about you and gives you 'psychological counseling'."

The flames floated left and right in Roland's sight.

"You must not sympathize with the aliens, and don't be soft-hearted."

"I'm afraid that this time the 'Dancer' will cause some unspeakable changes to you..."

"What a pity, a harmless creature."

It's not harmless, Wrench.

It does interfere with the normal life of humans.

Mentioning the alien, Roland suddenly lost interest in talking.

He held his face and looked out the window.

——Dancing in the fire, the creature that didn't forget to say goodbye even before death was sure that the woman behind the glass loved it.

It condensed and was born from the woman's wishes, and finally died in the woman's wishes.

She could understand what it said, and it was willing to fulfill her wishes.

Poor and pathetic creature.

Alien...

Is it always like this?

The relaxed mood of completing the task was faintly lost in that last dance.

Roland hoped they were not.

…………

……

It can be seen that old Collins missed Roland.

He prepared an exceptionally sumptuous dinner—all of which he couldn’t eat or was reluctant to eat on ordinary days. Even the steak took up a small plate, poured with sauce, and warmed in the stove. It was served to Roland after he took off his clothes.

The room full of the smell of medicine was warmed by the roasting.

“It just happened that I ate well today, and you came back at the right time.”

That’s what he said anyway.

He wiped his hands, poured himself a glass of unmarked whiskey, and drank half a glass.

He found that Roland held the knife and fork motionless, and he started to grin in a rough voice again: “If it’s poisonous, at least I will die with you…”

He was still the original uncle.

Roland: "I brought you a gift."

"It's not a useless ornament... There are no thieves in the house, don't let you make me call the police every other day..."

When he heard about the gift, Collins couldn't help but raise his mouth, but his words were still full of reluctance: "The few cents you earn are not enough for you to spend..."

He wiped his mouth and stood up, went to the door and took the small box Roland brought back into the house.

Opened it.

Inside was a silk bow tie with a black background and light rose pattern.

He looked at the tie and didn't dare to take it, like a fifty-year-old bearded kid at a loss.

Look at Roland, look at the tie.

Look at the tie, look at Roland again.

"...Well, um, it's good."

He closed the box as he opened it - he had no intention of taking it out.

"Don't you see where we live? Can I go out at night wearing a smock and such an expensive bow tie?"

"I'll keep it for you..." Old Collins took the box and prepared to put it in the back room, "When you like a girl and want to visit her, you can still show your face..."

He left for a few minutes and came back with a letter.

"I forgot to tell you that a few days ago, someone named Snow sent you a letter..."

He pushed the letter in front of Roland.

"I haven't opened it."

Rowland touched the envelope and pushed it back.

"Please read it for me, uncle."

Old Collins glanced at Roland, got up and took a rusty letter opener from the cupboard: gently cut down along the outer edge of the wax without damaging the outer envelope, and save it for next time.

In the letter was a folded piece of letter paper, densely written in blue ink.

"Hey, Roland," Old Collins put the paper in front of his eyes and read in the dim light: "Roland Collins."

"Edward Snow... Is this your friend?"

"When did you know those barbers?"

"It's so literary... I skipped the words I didn't know."

Roland groaned.

The handwriting on the letter was very sloppy.

"I wish you good health and all the best, Mr. Roland Collins."

"I am the doctor responsible for the conditioning and treatment of Mrs. Cherry Chloe."

"Edward Snow."

"Excuse me, I assume that you are not far from what Mrs. Chloe described."

"If that's the case, then I beg you."

"I hope you can provide some help to Mrs. Chloe."

The dark blue ink spread on the letter paper.

Roland's heart suddenly beat twice violently, as if foreshadowing some ominous signs.

"First of all, I declare that I am a person who is full of awe for truth and life."

"I admit that, based on the current situation, I have not been able to find the source of Mrs. Cherry Chloe's troublesome 'noise in the ears' - even though I have used some not-so-good drugs to temporarily calm her symptoms."

"But I can definitely say that she is not a crazy person."

Old Collins folded the letter and read on.

Perhaps because the words were getting heavier and more urgent, his voice also became deeper.

"Crazy patients have another way of judging: I think the current medical profession's judgment of crazy and manic patients is hasty and inaccurate."

"Like Lady Cherry-Croe."

"Since his Lordship did not trust me or my judgment (which I was sure of), after several treatments I discovered that this gentleman with a colorful private life had hired several other doctors for his wife - and these The poisonous dogs made a terrible and shocking judgment on the wife of a nobleman and an elegant lady."

"They all agreed: Cherry Chloe was crazy."

"The noise buzzing in your ears day and night is the best evidence."

"(Mrs. Chloe and the Lord have had several quarrels this week. I don't know whether this interfered with someone's judgment.)"

"What's even more frightening is that the lady's brother also provided the facts about his sister's 'madness': he and the Lord have reached an agreement to a certain extent and jointly believe that Lady Chloe needs a certain degree of treatment."

"With all due respect to my humble words, it is difficult to reverse this situation (one is the husband and the other is the brother)."

"I called the police, but it was obviously to no avail."

"As I write this letter to you, they are arranging coercive measures: to send Mrs. Chloe to a clinic specially established for women to receive 'special treatment' - which they say is a recent invention. The therapy has excellent effects on women suffering from mania, depression or mental illness.”

"I don't think that shameful and unfounded method can be effective on Mrs. Chloe, and I don't want to call that stupid method 'medical treatment'."

"In this regard, I wrote you a letter."

"With reverence for medicine, truth and life."

"I don't know whether you are willing to help. But I hope that, as a friend of Lady Cherry Croy, Roland Collins can lend a helping hand to her."

"At least according to Madam, you are an elegant and brave gentleman."

"Time is of the essence, I hope to meet you as soon as possible."

"For this stupid 'treatment', but also for life and truth."

At the end of the letter, there is an address.

Nothing more.

Collins Sr. folded the letter and stuffed it back into the envelope.

"...Roland."

"uncle?"