The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 284: Mother-of-pearl Box

The so-called Church of Justice, a group of 'justice' ritualists who claim to be absolutely fair and just, and speak up for those who have suffered injustice everywhere - what would the law enforcement department among them be like?

Today, the two ritualists of the Golden Libra performed a hilarious comedy skit for Roland.

They first said that the box was unlucky and might be buried with the dead; then, they hinted to the guests around them that if the box should be in the tomb, why was it displayed in the glass cabinet of this store?
They questioned whether it had crossed the sea, and said they could certainly pay fifty pounds if it had really crossed the sea—

They took out the money, but asked the salesperson to also produce evidence that it had "crossed the ocean".

That's impossible to get.

"Fair, sir."

The Horn Lady shook her head.

"Even if we don't buy it, someone else will be fooled sooner or later. The price is really unfair. I advise you not to do such deceptive things. We originally came to Bristol for other important things..."

"If this were in London, we'd have to have a chat with your boss."

If the person who said this was a character in the story, Roland would imagine that he must be tall and strong.

He had a resolute and square face, with cold and stern eyes.

He would raise righteous questions, and then the cowardly evil one would tremble in fear at the questioning.

pity.

The person who asks this question is not doing it for justice or fairness.

"It's up to the shop owner to decide what price to set. What does that have to do with them?"

"Look, Roland, I told you. Sooner or later you'll find out why these people are so hated."

The Church of Justice, the Golden Libra.

"I don't understand, Chandel."

Roland looked at the two women who stopped bargaining and started telling the guests around them that the price of the wooden box was absolutely inflated. He really didn't understand why they did this.

"What good will this do them?"

Shandel tapped his lips with his index finger and glanced at the still too young Roland with a smile: "The advantage is - although they can't buy it, the later customers will definitely not spend such an 'inflated' figure of fifty pounds..."

"just."

“It’s not just for myself.”

Roland rolled his eyes. “Her fairness doesn’t seem to include the shop owner and the captain and sailors who worked so hard to bring the box back.”

Shandel looked surprised: "How can you say that? The price of this box is too high, isn't it?"

"How do you know——"

Roland was stunned.

He suddenly realized that this communication had been defined from the very beginning, when he was not paying attention.

It's annoying enough indeed.

Seeing that the two women had finally given up, Roland urged the salesperson with a "righteous" look on his face to change the price as soon as possible. Then, he went to another counter in the store to check - and he turned around and called the salesperson who was about to slip away.

'Shouldn't you be following us?'

How to describe the salesperson's expression now?

It was like pushing open the door and coming home to find his mother and his best friend in the same bed. He was surprised, angry, and roared loudly.

Then a fly took advantage of the situation and flew into his mouth.

It's probably an expression like this.

"I feel a little sympathetic towards the ritualists who have been dealing with these people for years." Roland sighed.

Shandel lowered his head and suppressed his laughter: "No one would deal with them all year round. To be honest, there are many different organizations under the Cradle of Flesh and Blood and the Black Urn. They corrupt nobles, politicians, or upright ritualists-"

"But you know what?"

"The mystical world rarely suspects that the ritualists of the Church of Justice have been corrupted and are working with evil cultists." "That's almost impossible."

Roland thought so too.

He now wanted to sew the two women's mouths shut - especially when they went to another counter and started talking about prices, origins, and the gems on the edge of the mirror.

Silence is truly a virtue.

"Let's go quickly after buying the gifts. I'm worried that my ears will go on strike after my eyes."

Shandel covered his mouth and chuckled softly.

Roland picked up his cane and walked through the crowd.

Many people still stopped in front of the wooden box, but after the "speculative curse" just now, no one was willing to spend money to buy it.

Even though it is beautiful.

"I want to buy that box, sir." Roland greeted the other salesman and put fifty pounds on the counter before the other person opened his mouth.

The salesperson looked down at the money and froze for a few seconds in an impolite manner.

Until Roland tapped the counter with his index finger.

"...Oh! Sir, of course! You just have to wait for a few blinks of my eyes--" He hunched his back, walked around the counter in a flash, opened the glass window, and took out the box for Roland to see--

At this moment, the flames in sight began to move.

……

"A mother-of-pearl box with gold threads and a black background and a precious flower pattern."
-
what?
"Fifty pounds isn't a high price, Roland."

“Its value far exceeds this figure.”

Roland raised his eyebrows and gently picked up the wooden box.

The wooden box with uniform ink color feels heavy to the touch.

Beautiful golden flowers and branches were 'painted' on it with gold thread, and the complexity was embellished with sequins that looked like snail shells or seashells: each piece was ground to the same size as the golden branches.

When he gently turned the wooden box and changed the angle, the surface of the box dripped with water like soft golden rain falling into Roland's eyes.
-
so beautiful.
-
But it shouldn’t be a rare item, right?

"This box is probably about five or six hundred years old—from now on. So fifty pounds is not expensive, and it's even lucky."

Roland touched the smooth and even paint surface and returned the box to the salesperson.

“Local Bristol speciality packaging, thank you.”

The salesperson likes "big customers" like Roland. The corners of his mouth are curled up and his hands are very skillful.

"It looks like a girl is going to have some good luck, sir." He took the box out of a navy blue paper and tied it with a cowhide string, and took out a paper handbag with a ship, an ocean, and a golden sun printed on it from under the counter: "Great good luck."

"Girl?" Roland said with a smile, "Why do you think I'm not married?"

This statement won't fool the person at the counter.

"Excuse me, if I were your wife," the salesperson joked, "I would ask all the servants in the house to follow you out - I don't doubt your morals, but your face would make most ladies abandon their morals."

He was good at flattery, and perhaps because Roland didn't ask any questions, and only asked for twenty minutes without spending a penny, he had a lot to say.

"You are more generous than them."

The salesman lowered his voice: "... Believe me. This box was packed in the most expensive box. It definitely didn't come from a tomb like the troublemaker woman just said. Absolutely not, sir."

He didn't say bad things enough, and while saying it he stared at the two picky women not far away.

But after a while, the bad words disappeared completely like a candle being blown out.

Someone passed by and stopped beside Roland.

"Oh, there are people who are encouraging this immoral atmosphere."

(End of this chapter)