The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 25 Walls, Nails, Stone Dust

Enid did not take Roland back to the pharmacy, but instead took her...

Does it count as a residence?

The carriage broke through the fog, carrying two people, and slowly stopped on a street in the West District.

In front of a three-story building.

The walls are gray and have not been decorated like those of other residents.

There were no flowers or plants planted outside the wall - the house was bare and monotonous, like a stick standing in a flower bed.

Enid unlocked the door and invited Roland in.

The layout of the room did not change Roland's opinion of the house:

A simple, soft blanket without any patterns.

There was a plain mirror on the cupboard, but it was covered with a black cloth.

The wardrobe and boxes were stacked together to form a wide rectangle. A portable oil lamp was placed on the table, and the tea set was placed around the teapot, with a clean tablecloth on top.

The room is angular and clean.

There is no breath of life at all.

You know, even my uncle has a lot of cheap decorations on the second floor for show.

"Actually, you don't have to give her the alien remains, Roland."

Enid took off her coat, pushed Roland into the house, put him in a chair, and brought a plate while he recounted what happened that night.

On it were scattered a few slices of neatly cut apple, chopped nuts, and two slices of expensive-colored bread.

"Eat, you haven't eaten all night."

Enid pushed her plate forward.

"I'm not very hungry, Enid. I was worried she'd get in trouble, so..."

We are still talking about the piece of ceramic fragment marked "guard".

"Smart move. But you may not know the Inquisition, you may not know us. That's understandable."

Enid said, "The Xenomorphs are very rare creatures. They are born out of human imagination... or some other reason that has not yet been figured out - let's just say, there are no more of them than there are three-legged dogs."

"No more than four-legged men."
-
Thank you, I understand.

"Last night was thrilling, wasn't it?"

Roland was still terrified when he mentioned the monster. He touched his ear and said, "It was almost..."

"I don't know whether to say you are lucky or unlucky." Enid crossed her legs and put her hands on her knees. "That's a zombie, Roland. It's a creature that only the ritualists of the Ring of Eternal Silence can summon... There's been a little problem among them recently. You should go out less at night."

Before Roland could ponder the term 'Ring of Eternal Silence', Enid asked again: "Mestel, did he save you?"

Roland shook his head.

"That's the opposite."

No movement.

Women understand.

She did not ask about the detailed process like the previous interrogators, perhaps because she knew what the Inspectorate was.

She stared at Roland with her brown eyes for a long moment.

"I understand how they do things. It seems that you have to join us this time. Come to the Inquisition. Although the weekly salary of a reserve executioner is only one pound, it can at least protect you. You can use soap and don't have to eat meat of unknown origin-"

"More importantly, don't get in trouble with those vultures."

"She actually used 'only'."
-
indeed.

One pound, how many times more than the weekly salary his uncle gave him?

Roland snapped his fingers.

"Your uncle's price is fair for a child, Roland."
-
But I am not a child. I am a man, and I may have already reached adulthood.

"Before you enter the ring, I will temporarily place you in the Supervisory Bureau. Get familiar with the city and the case handling process first."

Roland thanked him sincerely: "You have helped me so much."

“Everyone with talent is worthy.”

Enid pinched a small piece of apple and put it in her mouth. "With your luck, maybe I have to tell you something you should know."

which is:
Ritualist.

mystery.

The road to greatness.

"First, do you think the soul exists?"

Roland nodded.

"Give me your hand."

Enid produced a box of nails from somewhere, stood up, and pulled Roland to the nearest wall.

He pressed the nails into the wall one by one with ease.

Only a short tail is exposed.

Then let Roland touch it.

"Touch the wall."
-
I didn't touch anything else.

Roland's eyes twitched, and he forced himself to ignore the words in his sight.

"It's... the wall, and the nails, ma'am."

"very good."

Enid knocked on the wall, making a sound for Roland to hear: "I assume that this wall is the human soul."

She metaphorically said: "And the nails..."

"That's where we 'hang' our power."

She found a coat and hooked the tail of the nail.

"Soul: Wall."

"Coat: Strength."

Enid said, "A ritualist is a wall full of nails. We hang different powers, clothes, paintings, oil lamps on it - these different powers create different ritualists..." "Do you have any questions?"

She asked casually as she pressed nails into the wall one by one, making the pattern she liked.

Roland pointed at the nail and said, "The wall is incomplete, ma'am."

Enid looked at him in great surprise:
"You are very perceptive."

"That's right. Those are mortal scars, the price you pay for your strength, Roland."

Mortal scars.

cost.

Enid pinched the tail with two fingers and pulled out a nail, then asked Roland to feel the hole left by the nail.

“The walls are incomplete because the brick dust is missing.”

"Soul dust. That's the price you have to pay for hanging on to power."

Enid looked at the boy thinking with pleasure, and asked in a slightly testing tone: "We hang power by nailing nails into the soul, and the stone powder of the soul is the price. So, can you tell me what the nail is?"

Roland thought about it.

nail…

"Is it the church?"

Enid smiled. "Not far off."

She said 'the road'.

The road to greatness.

"Different paths, different principles, and different 'scars'."

"There is a saying in the mystical world: Don't look at what you are willing to accept, but what you can give; it is not you who choose the path, but the path that chooses you."

She brought Roland back to the table and sat him down.

"Do you understand it?"

To be honest, I'm completely confused.

"What did it cost you, ma'am."

Roland asked carefully.

Enid…

What price did this lady, who looked young and beautiful and took extra care of herself, pay?
"me?"

"I've said before," she brushed her hands, held Roland's wrist, and drew a big circle on the table: "Among the three principles of the Father of All Things, the great path I embarked on came from judgment."

“It’s called the Holy Flame.”

"The Holy Flame under the Judgment Principle."

Holy...Flame Road?

He thought of the flames that were as sharp as thorns.

A power that is amazing, even terrifying.

"The ritualist who embarked on this path..."

"There will be mercy paid for it."

After Enid finished speaking, she saw Roland was surprised and repeated it again as if to confirm: "Yes, that's right. It's 'compassion', mercy for all things."

"The higher we climb, the closer we get to the flames of judgment held by the gods."

“We are the executors of the Benefactor and His loyal warriors.”

She held her chin with one hand and looked at Roland as she spoke, as if she was talking about something insignificant.

"Facing the enemy, the Executor does not need meaningless mercy. What do you want to say?"

Roland was puzzled: "But you are so... "

Enid folded her arms, her upper body pressed against the table, and leaned toward him: "Your talent and wisdom have earned you an opportunity, Roland Collins."

"For the ritualists of the Path of the Holy Flame, there is no such thing as meaningless mercy."

"This doesn't mean we are a bunch of cold-blooded monsters."

This time, the pale words did not cover the woman's face, but instead blocked it downwards.

"I'll bet on Roland Collins's face."

"This evil bat is lying."
-
Use your own.

but.

If only...

There seems to be nothing wrong with joining the Inquisition.

This was Enid's second invitation.

To know what the status of an executive officer is, just look at the performance of his uncle and the two detectives today.

He didn't think that his so-called talent and wisdom could make the executive extend a friendly hand again and again.

If she hadn't been here today, I would have been locked up for at least thirty days.

After seeing the zombies, Roland also longed to have the power to protect himself.

He needs to seize the opportunity and be more aware of the times.

"It's my pleasure, ma'am."

Roland held out his hand.

The woman looked strange, but still shook his hand.

"Who did you learn etiquette from?"

"Compared to a handshake."

"Kissing can increase friendliness."

"So, ma'am," Roland asked, ignoring the words in his eyes, "how should I...nail..."

"You're not there yet."

(End of this chapter)