The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 282 Ch.281 Shopping and the Golden Libra

Roland closed the diary and gently stroked the old cover.

'What has happened will happen again in the future.'

Miss Nina once said this.

Roland didn't understand at the time.

"What are you thinking about, Roland?"

On the return carriage, Shandel leaned on his arm, his eyes fixed on the street which seemed no different from usual - except that most people were covered in black silk.

"I was thinking, if someone had told me a year ago that there was a person who had to take a carriage wherever he went, I would have laughed at that person's 'refinedness'."

Roland patted the diary on his lap.

“But now, this is who I am.”

Without even turning his head, Shandel said, "Enjoy what you have, Roland."

"I've already done this...what are you going to do about it?"

"what?"

Roland pointed to the cross next to her seat.

Shandel flicked the old metal and said briskly, "The executive officer's sacrifice cannot be in vain, Roland, Mr. Ram Fiennes's sacrifice cannot be in vain. How should a family that has lost a man live out the rest of their lives?"

"Besides, we were not the only ones who saw the golden flame..."

Shandel smiled and said, "A repentant executive, this is a good story, right? Maybe we can get a lot of money from the church..."

At this point, she suddenly became interested, put her legs together, and leaned towards Roland:

"When the time comes, I'll buy all the cigars for you, okay?"

When talking, Shandel always liked to look up at Roland with her big, pure and clear eyes.

This posture always...gives people a strange emotion.

"Let you."

"It has nothing to do with others."

"I heard... that these are all rubbed out by girls on their thighs?" Shandel became interested and talked about something he was not familiar with: "Is it true?"

"The workers in the cigarette factory hope so too." Roland took out a hard leather case from his inner pocket and gave a cigarette to Shandel.

"That way, they can probably work twenty hours a day."

"I mean, the one who's in charge of the rubbing part."

Shandel glared at Roland, took the cigar, and held it upright to look at it.

"Too rough, Roland."

Roland: ...

Mr. Roland Collins, who has just gained some insight, can now sense that something is wrong with some of the words.

"If you could have a longer pause, this could be said on the street."

"Why?" Cinder fluttered her eyelashes, as if she really didn't understand what Roland meant.

She shook her cigar.

“Isn’t this gross?”

“For a cigar, this is a fairly large ring gauge.”

Shandel said "Oh", put the cigar in his mouth, and puffed his cheeks: "Is this how you smoke it?"

She held the cigar in her small hands, pursed her lips tightly, and seemed to be really curious about the "taste". Under Roland's gaze, she licked the cigar cap.

Roland: ...

"This wicked woman did it on purpose."

"You have to cut your hair first."

Shandel handed the cigar she had dipped back to Roland and blinked, implying something that was self-evident.

"We're in the car, Shandel."

Smoking a cigar in a confined space, even with the windows open, is disrespectful to others.

"I love the smell, Roland."

She begged softly, urging again and again.

then.

Roland bit off the cigar cap, took out a long match from the hard leather case, struck it on the back of the case, held it in his mouth, and lowered his head to light it.

"I see a lot of people using large lighters."

"I used to be the same." Roland muttered back, tilting his head towards the window: "...I used special wooden strips at first, which made me look extremely expensive. But guess what? In the end, I only needed matches, and smoked it with a sloppy flame--"

"The more convenient the better." Xiandel didn't respond.

She held her face in her hands, staring intently at the profile in the smoke.

Look at his falling black hair passing through his amber eyes.

Look at how focused he seems, and after exhaling the smoke, he tells you what he knows.

She liked Roland like this.

"How about we go for a walk?"

"Where?"

"everywhere."

"A lot of people died in the city, Shandel."

"It won't delay anything, Roland. Does an orphan without parents have to suffer from a terminal illness?"

“I like her metaphors.”

Roland drew aside the curtains, and a few minutes later he stopped the carriage—on one of the busiest streets in Bristol.

'Prosperous' is a relative term.

This place is mainly aimed at foreign visitors, selling local or overseas specialty products: such as expensive fishing rods that have been specially "dressed up", clothes from other countries, live animals, obscure books from other countries, and black people.

Just like what Shandel said.

Such a disaster had happened in Bristol, and yet the street was more crowded than usual.

more lively.

There were some ritualists mixed in, and Roland and Shandel could recognize them at a glance - for example, although the woman was wearing a long floral dress that was in line with the current season and fashion, she had a few finger bones hanging around her waist.

The ritualist of the Ring of Eternal Silence.

Some simply did not change into their religious uniforms, and wore bright yellow cloaks with ivory patterns outlining a long scale.

"Roland, the Ritualist of the Golden Scale. The 'law enforcers' of the Church of Justice, equivalent to the Inquisition to the Holy Cross. However, these people are much more harsh than us."

Roland was unfamiliar with this sect.

“A bunch of people who spend their time meddling in other people’s business,” she said. “If you see someone doing something unfair and claiming to be absolutely fair — that’s them.”

"You don't seem to like these people very much?"

"Law enforcement officials don't like them," said Shandel. "The Inspectorate, the Tribunal, and Scotland Yard, no one likes anyone interfering in their work... especially when they come uninvited and manipulate the whole thing under the guise of helping you."

Gold Libra...

Roland's only impression of this organization was the previous interrogation.

That James.

"Who gave them the power?" Roland thought of the answer as soon as he asked.

Who else could it be?

gods.

The law does not allow the executioner to burn a criminal alive.

The same goes for the Golden Libra.

Shandel spent five pence to buy a bunch of hand-painted balloons of various colors from a shop on the side of the road - the Balloon Festival is definitely a "specialty" of Bristol.

"You know what's the most interesting thing? They even discuss the issues of 'time' and 'price' with prostitutes - the 'secret scroll' relies on greed to climb up, but you know, the mysterious world knows who is the truly greedy one."

"A ritualist of the Path of Libra."

“Not many people want to work with these guys.”

“Whenever you trade or divide up your wealth, you’ll always find that they get the most — and they’ll definitely convince you with their own ideas.”

Shandel looked at the shelves of a store and paused.

A shop selling women's goods.

Two ladies from the Church of Justice were discussing a box.

Xiandel thought about it, hesitated for a few seconds, and finally gave up.

"You like that box?"

Roland followed her gaze.

On the glass shelf, that box is the most beautiful.

On the black background, there are some irregular small fragments of dead leaf-colored flower paint, which sparkle under the light.

"Rather than liking them, I don't want to be with these people--"

Roland became playful and grabbed her wrist, dragging her into the store.

(End of this chapter)