The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 247 Ch.246 Gambling

The people of Bristol live off the port, and so do the cats.

Besides the ever-present smell of salty food, floating balloons and small triangular flags, there are all kinds of cats on the streets.

They were not afraid of people at all. They would wag their tails and swing their bells. One of them would threaten the fishmonger fiercely, while the others would quietly circle around, grab a fish from the bucket and run away - then the children of the surrounding vendors would burst into laughter and chase them everywhere.

While waiting for Fiennes (Fernandez went to the other side of the city), Roland was so bored that he picked up a balloon with a broken string and stuck between two broken wooden boards.

Tied it to a cat's tail.

That way, when it runs, it can take the Father of All Things with it.

"But Roland."
-
Ok?
"That's not a tail."
-
I am blind after all.

Shandel watched the cat stumble away with its legs apart, and then jump onto the eaves. After making sure it was safe, it turned back and bared its teeth, meowing at Roland a few times, which made the girl laugh continuously. She looked at the cat, then at the balloon, and then at Roland's body.

"It's scolding you."

There are so many balloons on the streets that the denser areas almost block the sunlight like dense tree canopies.

They swayed in the wind, bumped into each other, and bounced left and right, a sea of ​​silver and green, like a lush man-made jungle.

Very nice.

Fiennes made Roland wait in the cold wind for ten minutes, which made Cinder very dissatisfied.

"Beautiful, isn't it, sir, ma'am?"

Fiennes was dressed very formally today, as if to match the festive atmosphere, with a silver-spotted green bow tie tied around his collar - which had nothing to do with his dark and inappropriate old suit.

"Where can I take you? I'm very familiar with this place." He seemed to see that Cinder was puzzled and mocking his dress, but... he seemed not to see it? He didn't care, and still played the role he was supposed to play in front of Roland and Cinder.

"Take us to the places you frequent, Mr. Fiennes," said Roland. "Take us around and let us get closer to your familiarity."

With no clues in the angel case (and perhaps it should have been closed long ago), Fernandez went to the other side of the city to contact the ritualist of the Ring of Eternal Silence.

He and Shandel followed Fiennes for a short vacation and were also responsible for observing whether this "former executive" could be saved.

Although Fernandez spoke firmly that night, Roland knew what the people on the "Judgment" path had the most.

Fernandez is four rings, and there should be some more.

He didn't say it explicitly, but 'You can let him take you around more' - that already revealed Fernandez's true thoughts.

"A place I frequent?"

Fiennes was stunned.

The places he often goes to are not places that this young master and young lady can go to.

"I was born in a workhouse, Mr. Fiennes. I don't know about you, but when it comes to being extremely vicious, who can be more cruel than a man who survived a workhouse and became an executive?" Roland casually told the other party about his life experience, which surprised the other party even more.

But only for a second.

Then, he seemed to be on fire, and his voice suddenly stood up: "You are an excellent person! You can climb out of the mire! I should learn from you!"

Shandel sighed silently in his heart.

Over the years, Enid Jutia had all but softened and melted the bones of the Inquisition with the invisible acid of her inaction.

If only all executives outside of London were like Ram Fiennes...

No, not entirely true.

Those who are capable have all applied for transfer. It's a pity.

She remembered that what burned in "Judgment" was "Mercy"... not "Diligence", right?

"You can show us the real life in Bristol." Shandel adjusted the gray crocodile leather bag on his arm, and the crisp sound of gold pounds hitting each other could be heard from time to time.

To Ram Fiennes this sound was one of the finest in the world.

"That's not just any 'true', sir or madam, come, follow me!"

Ram Fiennes rolled his eyes, as if he had made an arrangement as to the whereabouts of the gold pounds in the crocodile leather bag, leaned forward, cleared his throat several times, and hailed a carriage in a very stylish manner.

He took Roland and Shandel to a club.

It can be private or not.

The reason for the former is that entry is granted only with the guarantee of a familiar face;

The reason for the latter is that it can hardly be called 'private' when someone like Ram Fiennes can vouch for it.

The uniquely decorated villa is located very close to the port, and you can almost see the sea from the balcony: a lot of gold is used inside, whether it is a thin-necked gold bottle or gold foil that is almost chiseled into the painting. The vulgar owner told the guests in an extremely vulgar but indeed effective way:

What can you get by coming here?

This is a casino.

Premium, private, casino.

"I don't expect much from Bristol's 'High', Roland." Shandel was not familiar with gambling, but he was definitely familiar with 'High'.

"If you like this game, I can ask my friends to introduce you to the one in London, a place that only people of status go to."

She was carrying a bag and holding Roland's arm. The corners of her mouth curved in a regular pattern while they talked. Her two lake-blue eyes were only looking at Roland, not at the expensive and eye-catching decorations around her - she was definitely Miss Qian from the big city.

"Gambling is just a leisure pastime, and there are many gentlemen who are happy to spend their time on it - I think it is better than riding around shooting randomly."

In her personal opinion, hunting was a meaningless activity unless the person riding on horseback in front of you was your enemy: that didn't stop you from aiming your gun at him or his horse's butt.

"I have no interest in this 'game', Shandel. Most are tricks used by con artists to deceive people, and a few rely on luck... You think a blind man would gamble on luck?"

The two of them talked in low voices, like a young couple, a well-matched couple in love.

Ram Fiennes was more like their servant.

"I don't think it's a trick, Mr. Collins." He disagreed with Roland's evaluation, and drooped his very light eyebrows: "It requires a very flexible mind and a brave and fearless heart - courage and wisdom are indispensable, and the 'luck' you mentioned is only ranked last."

He knew at a glance that these two people had never participated in this game before and didn't know how to enjoy it.

"The club does not allow ritualists to use their abilities, so there is no such thing as 'cheating' as you mentioned. Once you meet, you and this lady will know that there is absolutely no cheating in this game."

"That is the entertainment of gentlemen, the fight on the gold pound field, the invisible confrontation between people's courage!"

Roland did not refute.

"Maybe."
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Is it true that once something one loves is belittled, even the mute can speak?
"Beatrice is a fool."
-
she is not.

"Look."

Roland: ...

(End of this chapter)