The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 227 Ch.226 Falling
Isaac Brown did not expect that the young gentleman working next door would speak for him.

He touched his chest and bowed: "I haven't asked you yet--"

"Collins."

Roland responded: "Roland Collins, Mr. Brown, I have heard of your name, a top medical practitioner with superb skills and selfless spirit who has helped us solve our problems."

"A noble man should not be bitten and sucked by these calculating mosquitoes. Sir, I think you are too kind to them."

The clerk was somewhat embarrassed by Roland's accusation and quickly waved his hands:

"Sir, sir! You don't know, this house is only worth this much at most! That's been calculated by a specialist!"

Roland walked forward and knocked on the high counter with great disdain:

"What's the wood worth? But nailed together and carried to the bank, it must be at least fifteen shillings in the account book, right?"

At this time, Philip Chanderson behind him also interrupted:
"I don't think it would take fifteen."

Seeing the two men coming in with a threatening attitude, the clerk bowed and called the waiter to arrange for the three people to talk in a private meeting room to avoid creating a worse impact in the hall.

Especially Philip Chandler, who used the pure gold card and was an important guest of Palojemed.

"I have to apologize, Mr. Brown."

When we arrived at the reception room, the clerk poured more tea and lit cigarettes like the monkeys in the circus who had been beaten but still wanted to please their masters.

The implicit meaning of the words is undoubtedly telling these two nosy gentlemen:
There is absolutely no problem with the property prices. What is wrong is one's attitude.

He shouldn't treat this famous doctor the same way he treated those poor people.

A mortgage or sale should not be treated as alms to a respectable gentleman.

He begged the three not to escalate the situation, otherwise he might lose this hard-earned job.

A decent job that can support my family and children.

Philip scratched his smooth, hairless head, one shoulder high and the other low, with his other hand hooked on the cup handle, his movements looked a little funny no matter how you looked at it: "...Oh, I don't know what you guys are thinking about all day. This is your only chance to really interact with noble people. If it were me, I would cherish it much more."

The clerk bowed repeatedly to apologize.

"It's a rather impolite question, Mr. Brown. Excuse my rudeness." Philip suddenly asked curiously, "Why do you want to mortgage the land? I know your clinic, and the place is very valuable."

The bearded middle-aged doctor rubbed his fingers, his expression unnatural: "...Business, I have a business to do."

Philip came over immediately and said slyly, "I guess you also received the letter, right?"

Roland lowered his eyes, then waved his hand, asking the clerk and waiter to leave first.

"Yes, you guessed right, Mr. Chandlerson. I have..." Isaac Brown understood as soon as he heard it that this funny-looking fat man also received the letter and must have made money from it.

His expression improved a lot in an instant, and he whispered back with his eyebrows raised: "I made a lot of money. This is a good opportunity, Mr. Chanderson, perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, how can I not seize it?"

Roland interjected with a curious look on his face: "What's the magic of the letter? Just investing a few pennies, and getting shillings in return?"

Isaac Brown turned his head, looked at the handsome young man with golden eyes, and shook his head.

"I don't understand, young man."

He said.

"I don't know what kind of business your family is in - whether it's ocean-going or plantations, or even stocks or real estate, but may I ask, have you ever heard of such a rate of return?"

He held up two fingers.

"Double, fifteen days." "The only business that can rival this is war."

Although Isaac Brown was not familiar with Roland, he had heard of Philip Chandler's name to some extent. Since the fat baron arrived in London, he had invited all the prostitutes of a slightly higher class in the city.

Of course, he was a baron, a nobleman, and a wealthy man, and Isaac Brown had no ill feelings towards him.

We are all family, so there is no need to hide some things.

"Look. Even if the government imposes taxes on windows and glass, how much more can it earn? Those poor people would rather not open the windows and block the holes with bricks."

Speaking of this tax, old Collins has a more novel name:
Taxes on light and air.

"…We are not glorious and great because of these, right? What do we rely on? Monsters of other skin colors, lands beyond the ocean, planting, trade, and sails blown by the wind—"

When he said this, he fanned himself with his palms and squinted his eyes, as if he was smelling the scent of the ocean and gold in the air.

He was now more like Randolph Taylor than Edward Snow.

He shouldn't be a doctor, he should be a businessman.

"Ocean trade. I heard that the organization holds an excellent and unknown trade route." Isaac Brown shrank his neck and scanned the faces of Chanderson and Roland, as if he expected to see their greed and surprise.

"I can tell you frankly, Baron. In the past few days, I have made nine hundred pounds..."

Qian Desen's eyes widened instantly, and his voice became uncontrollably higher: "Nine hundred pounds?!"

Isaac Brown was finally satisfied.

He turned to Roland and said, "If we are connected with this mysterious organization, maybe we can actually meet in person one day. Do you know what that means?"

Roland was confused: "What?"

"Countless pounds."

He wanted to see admiration and eagerness to try on the face of the golden-eyed young man, but at the moment there was only confusion.

"I remember…"

"what?"

"Mr. Isaac Brown, you mean to expect to take out thousands of pounds at once and then get a huge return - this doesn't seem difficult? I remember that in addition to mortgages, Palojemed also has personal loan projects."

Philip Chandler gave Roland an ambiguous look and sipped his tea without saying anything.

"Loan."

Isaac Brown repeated, smacking his lips and looking a little hesitant.

"I am a physician, Mr. Collins, not a distinguished person like you, perhaps. I am a good physician, and have a little reputation at present, but that is all."

Roland shook his head and smiled cheerfully: "It seems that you are not familiar with the rules of this place. Oh, it just so happens that I am worried that I don't have the opportunity to meet the best doctor in London. It just so happens that I don't have this opportunity..."

Isaac Brown was stunned at first, then burst into laughter.

He held the teacup and clinked it lightly with Roland's.

"I am so glad to be friends with you and Baron Chanderson! Come on, just teach me, and don't be stingy with your words!"

Roland smiled brightly, his golden eyes deep, reflecting a greedy face.

(End of this chapter)