The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 327 Ch.326 Louis Hyman's Question
Louis Heyman wanted Roland to return the favor by doing him a "favor," which certainly wasn't to kill or betray the Inquisition—after all, the snake on his wrist proved that Roland was already doing that.

He wants Roland and Cinder to carry out a mission.

He would find a way to have the task fall to the Inquisition, and then Roland and Shandel would take it.

then.

To change the course during the mission and do an extra small, simple thing for them...

"It's just a small favor, Mr. Heiman. But this favor made me betray the Inquisition. Are the Heiman family members so good at doing business?"

Randolph could tell that Louis Hyman had something to say to Roland.

He went to the other end of the exhibition hall under the pretext of looking for a manuscript to negotiate the price - it was said to be one of the sonnets left by the poet during his lifetime, but the owner apparently said that the 'donation' price was too low. When the Ilet Art Association and the Royal Library approached him at the same time, this bidding-like competition made both parties choose to temporarily stop the war, and also gave the owner other ideas.

If the price is right, I would even sell it to a cow.

So he paid the ticket and glided back and forth between each exhibition hall like a hawk stalking a rabbit.

It was obvious that he recognized Randolph Taylor.

"The Book of Fame. If the manuscript is genuine, Roland, your friend has a collection that he will be proud of for years to come."

Louis took him to the side of the exhibition hall, leaning against the arched window, next to many exquisite, slightly curved but not angular low-legged tables and chairs, and chose a seat at the innermost one.

"If so, I don't think he would have said that the manuscript was originally intended to please a young lady."

"Understandable."

He used his privilege to order the 'servant' to bring a bottle of red wine, two plates of sliced ​​ham and chunks of apples, and then invited Roland.

"We talked over a drink."

"I'm the executive officer, Mr. Heyman."

"Of course, I'm Heyman. We don't have to be afraid of our identities. Besides, I know that Ms. Jutia saved your life." Louis shook the soft red gem, tapped Roland's on the rim of the cup, swallowed a few and put it back.

"I will inform Ms. Judiya first. How can I call on Roland Collins and Cinder Kratov without informing Enid Judiya? You don't think a Sixth Ring dare to do such a thing, do you?"

"I'm Hyman, not Victoria."

Roland raised his glass and said, "I don't know whether this is a compliment or an insult."

Louis smiled but didn't respond.

He told Roland that this matter might be "insignificant" or "very important" to Roland himself.

It depends on whether he chooses to remain blind...

Or open your eyes and look through the fog.

Rather than being a 'help', it's actually more of a transaction.

"You know what, Lu…I can do that, right?"

"of course."

"Louis, before I came to London, someone said something similar - open your eyes."

"I can't say I'm completely 'open-eyed' about mystery, but I can't say I'm 'blind' either. What do you want me to see? The political parties in this country? Politics? The grudges and hatreds of the Heiman family? Your great and selfless ideals? Your devout faith?"

Louis Hyman stroked the rim of the cup with his fingers. The sound, which was stained with water, was as short as an axe breaking bones, and lasted only for a second.

The beef in front of Roland was cut into several smaller slices.

"Please use."

He showed Roland his own danger, making no secret of the ongoing storm.

"This matter has nothing to do with me, Roland, or you."

"But if you agree, you can discover some interesting truths... maybe, a small part."

Roland picked up a piece of beef and put it in his mouth, chewing it without any courtesy and talking:

"…Oh, the truth, what will happen then."

"We are the same kind of people, Roland." Louis Heyman is like a pair of eyes on a gust of wind. When he stares at someone, if you don't force yourself to ignore those eyes, you will never escape from the vortex. In a way, he and Roland have the same charm.

But he showed sharper.

"We are the same kind of people - that is, we don't care about things that don't concern us. It's unnecessary for me to help you kill Sendes, and it's unnecessary for me to threaten you with everyone in the exhibition hall. You don't care, right?"

He grinned, like wild beasts baring their fangs when they meet, to identify himself:
I am you too.

Roland continued to eat: "I am just one ring."

"Ah, that's right."

Louis's half-smiling eyes finally caught the shadow in the fog, what a person really cares about.

"It has nothing to do with us, so of course you don't care."

"only…"

"Enid Jutia will just die."

crunch.

The chair legs made a sharp, short whistling sound on the floor.

Louis showed an expression of 'as expected'.

Got it.

"'Everyone below the tenth ring is a mortal', Roland, have you heard this saying?"

"…certainly."

"No questions?" Louis shook his glass. At this moment, he was in a very good mood.

"The fourth ring of the Path of Dry Bones allows you to defend yourself against swords and knives with your body; the sixth ring of the Path of Organ allows you to travel in the rhythm of music; the eighth ring of the Path of Holy Flame allows you to bathe in flames and never lose in a head-on battle."

“We are so strong.”

The red-haired man's eyes seemed to change color constantly under the light coming through the arched window.

His sharp gaze was like a spear, nailing Roland firmly to the ground.

“We were so unbeatable.”

His expression was as pious as that of a fanatic who advocated self-sacrifice, but in the next instant he looked down upon that fanatic who advocated self-sacrifice. He used the saliva of prostitutes to make holy water for them to drink, and bursts of rampant laughter came from his cold-eyed indifferent body.

"But is there something wrong with this?"

"What we have overlooked?"

"We are obviously far superior to ordinary people, but still "all those below the tenth ring are ordinary people" - why?"

Ignoring Amber's silent gaze, Louis slowly gave his answer.

"Because, ritualists below the tenth ring cannot avoid death."

"The Contemplator will face a deteriorating body, while Dry Bones and Lamentation will constantly fight against the call of death. And Holy Flame..."

He tapped the slender glass column again and again, and the red wine in the glass vibrated and hummed like the surging lake in Roland's heart.

"Roland Collins, have you ever thought: If the Holy Flame is so powerful that no ritualist of any path dares to fight it head-on - if it has almost no opponents, how many people in the Inquisition, the Church... the entire Holy Cross would yearn for that pure and pale flame?"

"Why has the Holy Flame in the high ring been rarer than in other roads?"

"Is it because of lack of talent, or..."

“Those people don’t want to keep climbing?”

Louis asked the question but didn't give Roland an answer. He raised his glass with a smile and celebrated with the invisible other.

"Ding."

"cheers."

(End of this chapter)