The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 325 Ch.324 Cigar Social
Louis Hyman, member of the Elite Art Society, youngest son of the Hyman family, and six-ring organ player.

"Bristol is extremely dangerous, isn't it? I'm really worried that the city that was built with great effort will be destroyed by the desires of people with ill intentions." He put his hat on his chest, nodded to Randolph, and then looked at Roland:
"I remember the casino there in particular vividly - how could there be a villa made of gold?"

"I later heard that Mr. James Shelley had a share in it, and I wasn't surprised at all."

"He is a wealthy businessman who will soon enter the perfume industry. I heard that he vowed to become the Benevento of the new era. Oh, but he doesn't get along well with Mr. Benevento, but he has a good relationship with our Heiman."

Then, it is inclined towards the secret party and the church.

The message conveyed in his words is complicated, but why?
However, Louis did not give Randolph and Roland time to ask questions, and immediately continued: "Last time I was in a hurry and didn't have the opportunity to chat with you for a few more words. Mr. Taylor, I have to say that in your hands, the "Golden Smoke" cigar has almost become a necessity for every decent gentleman."

Randolph smiled appropriately and said cordially, "That is the luck of Golden Smoke, not the luck of every gentleman. It seems that you also love this smoky activity?"

"of course."

"Then I will definitely send you a few boxes of the latest limited edition. Please try it. It is the real thing. We have carefully selected it. It has--"

He started again.

"Cigar Social."
-
Yeah, Randolph always has a way.

"You should learn more from him."
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I'm tired and want to eat. Is there a place where I can rest for a while? These pants are too tight...

"You don't know how to make progress at all."
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What qualifications do you have to criticize me? You sleep longer than me every day.

"I don't have a body, idiot! I have to have time long enough to-"
-
What is it used for?
"Enjoy your sleep."

Roland: ...

The person who was slightly absent-minded had actually already been daydreaming, thinking about the choice of dinner and which of the two juices he had drunk before tasted better.

Until the sound of 'Roland' woke him up again.

“I said, you should be a work of art here, not someone who appreciates art.”

Louis Hyman teased: "Someone is coercing you, isn't he?"

Perhaps it was Louis's wonderful temperament that made it difficult to take him seriously, or perhaps he was the first to simplify the address.

Roland curled his lips slightly and said, "Yes, otherwise he would never want me to see his sister again. You may not know that I am a weak and indecisive person. Coercion is the right choice for me."

Randolph: ...

You fart.

If I have my say, you'd better live at Taylor's house all year long—

In the servants' room.

This makes it convenient for my sister to enjoy them, and it also does not delay separating them after enjoying them.

"My friend, Mr. Heyman. We are here to see the work of my friend's friend, Mr. Victor Sala." Since they were standing right next to the sculpture, Roland didn't have to spend the effort to explain who Victor Sala was and what he had created.

"It's a very nice work. I think the reason why it's here is not just because Mr. Sara is not a member of the Ilet Art Association. There must be other reasons?"

Louis Heyman hit the nail on the head.

He knew too well what the Ilet Art Association was like.

Randolph explained to him with a bitter face the "stupid things" he had done.

"Excuse me, that's a bit... inappropriate." Heyman considered his words and said frankly: "You bypassed Elaite and bought more than one newspaper - to be honest, if it was only three or four, it wouldn't matter..."

But how could someone like Randolph care about that little money?

"Mr. Hyman." Randolph hesitated.

He had actually rejected Marvolo Hyman's solicitation, his invitation, his investment, and...

Well, he agreed to nothing.

So there was no way Louis Heyman would show him kindness.

He wouldn't be stupid enough to actually make a request and embarrass both parties.

"Please allow me to express my proper apology for my last disrespect." Randolph decided not to mention it, even though it might only take one sentence for Louis Hyman, but Randolph couldn't do that. Louis Hyman smiled brightly: "Not for apology, sir, just because we all love "Golden Smoke".

“Golden Smoke’s cigars are truly the best.”

Seeing that the conversation had come to an end, Roland took over: "The smoke is rich and fragrant, and the wrapper of each cigar is soft and complete. After smoking it, you will feel particularly relaxed. You will want to drink a big glass of rum, eat a big piece of tender and juicy steak, and want to move Victor Sala's sculpture out of this exhibition hall immediately."

Randolph: ...

Louis: …

Mr. Merchant glared at Roland secretly.

My golden-eyed stupid friend, if you say that, only someone stupider than you would agree... Betty? Why did I think of Betty?

The three of them were silent for a few breaths.

"Okay." Louis Heyman replied lightly.

Randolph: ...

Randolph: ?

"Sorry, Mr. Heyman, this doesn't have to happen..." Randolph didn't want Louis to think that he had helped, so that he would come to "ask" for any reward later. He would rather torture the person in charge a little more, at most it would cost a few hundred pounds, which was nothing.

"No, Mr. Taylor, this is the deal between me and Roland Collins," Louis winked, "our deal."

He took Roland's arm and walked to another exhibition hall like old friends. Randolph frowned but did not follow too closely.

Roland felt very strange.

——He doesn't mind handshakes and hugs between same-sex friends, and Randolph often punches me, and I punch you while you drink tea.

The same goes for him and his uncle.

The answer to why he hated Gary Kratov was clear.

And now.

Roland felt that Louis Heyman, who was holding him, was feeling nausea and pain in his heart.

This intertwined emotion lingered on Roland's temple, like a steel needle that had been sharpened for tens of thousands of miles and still existed in you.

You can imagine how sharp it is.

"Mr. Heyman."

"Please say?"

Roland raised his shoulders and said, "I'm not a priest."

Louis Heyman was stunned and didn't understand: "...Me, me neither?"

"Then why do you still do things you don't like?" Roland said calmly, "After all, we are not priests, nor are we pious boys."

For a moment, Roland felt the malice that was almost condensed into substance.

But it was only for a moment.

Louis Hyman loosened his hand, and his distorted expression was like that of a man who had seen the Father of All Things. He bathed in the divine light for only a few seconds, and then he was reminded again of this boring life, society, and country, falling into an endless cycle of boredom.

Roland suddenly thought of the undertaker of the Ring of Eternal Silence.

Somehow, he thought, Louis Heyman needed an undertaker to bury the living, perhaps?
The undertaker is responsible for upholding the dignity of the dead, but can he also uphold the dignity of the living?

"You are sharper than anyone I have ever met, Mr. Roland Collins."

"Anyone, I mean."

Louis Hyman narrowed his narrow, upturned eyes, and the musical note earring between his hair swayed slightly and happily like Roland's.

(End of this chapter)