The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 339 Ch.338 Rando Four
The Mud Ball Circus still looks great on the surface.

Even though their performance was much worse than Roland's last time - but in fact, no one really came to see the 'performance'.

Just look at the dwarfs, the babies that don't cry, the people with two heads, the hairy faces and the dark-skinned girls who talk like barks...

The fire ring and the parrot that flew out and came back to land on your shoulder were just the icing on the cake.

But this time, Roland learned how eloquent a person could be.

Mason Lyle.

The circus owner spent a lot of time at the beginning, intermission and end of the show commenting on current events, his clever views on various political proposals or the hilarious stories of a small family in a small city in a small country.

How can he talk so much nonsense?

"Everyone! Look! We have lost another extraordinary genius recently!"

"He is so pious, persistent, and loyal. If his talent were replaced by water..." The gray-haired man in gorgeous clothes shook his golden cloak: "...if it were replaced by water, it would be enough for me to take a bath for the rest of my life!"

Everyone laughed.

"It seems that everyone here has a sense of humor, right? Our country is blessed with a sense of humor, which is better than those who skin and eat meat - this reminds me of a country I once visited. Oh, I can't really say it's a 'country'."

"A piece of land?"

Scattered laughter.

"Yes, a land called 'country'. Oh, I don't even know if there is a word 'country' in their books -" Mason Lyle danced with joy, and suddenly remembered something: "...Do they have books?"

There was laughter in the venue.

"A local, a local who I paid a little money to agree not to eat me, told me—"

laughter.

"They said that their local custom, to respect the dead, is to eat him after he dies—"

Someone exclaimed.

"Yes, yes, it's not a civilized world," Mason Lyle turned his head and looked over, as if he was really looking for the person who exclaimed: "They are like this - the man also asked me, 'Sir, what are the customs of your country?'"

"I say: it is humor, and a national strength that is strong enough to make people patiently cooperate with our humor."

Someone whistled.

The applause was warm.

"Thank you, thank you, oh, sir... or miss? Haha, don't throw roses at me, they have thorns."

The middle-aged man in the venue bowed politely to all four sides in turn. After showing off his rich experience and great sense of humor, he began to show off his expensive cloak and his face that was covered with countless layers of makeup.

"Prostitutes don't put it on like that."

Randolph commented on this.

Bronte gave him a glare.

——The communication in the car really improved the relationship between the two people to some extent: they began to approach each other tentatively and observe each other's reactions.

In fact, they knew it very well.

"Human love is so boring."

"They clearly know what the other person means, but they don't say it directly."
-
How to say it directly?

"I want to have sex with you, okay?"
-
That's too polite, Wrench.
-
Even the court etiquette officer is not as polite as you.

"That's enough, Roland. If it were me, I wouldn't have said that."

"Just see whose teeth are sharper."
-
Let Randolph and Miss Bronte enjoy themselves; they are missing something.

"I really don't understand. According to the rules of human society, this woman can never marry that sharp-mouthed fox. Is it so troublesome to be a lover?"
-
Lovers are different from each other.

"What's the difference?"
-
You do not understand.

"Oh, I don't understand again."

"You seem to have forgotten who taught you how to get along with women."
-
I was born with it.

"Your proud stupidity is as ridiculous as that of Bronte."
-
I am born funny.

"..."

Who can defeat the person who gives up first?

…………

……

The second time he watched the circus, Roland clapped his hands as excitedly as the first time. Beatrice beside him was even more excited, her face flushed, her big eyes fixed on the birds flying around in the tent, watching them take off at the command of the whistle, fly over everyone's heads a few times, and then land on the shoulders of the performers. The man patted his chest and bowed, accepting all the applause, and then began his funny performance again.

The bird on his shoulder kept repeating his words.

"I'm welcome."

Parrot: I'm welcome to.

Man: Yes, I'm welcome.

Parrot: It's me.

Man: It’s me!
Parrot: It's me.

Man: Why do you always imitate me?
Parrot: Why do you always imitate me?
Man: It seems I left my brain at home and only brought the shell with me.

The parrot stretched its neck: Yes, indeed you are.

Everyone laughed.

The whole performance was tightly arranged and full of laughs, but Roland felt that he had to spend more money than the first time he came - the tickets were more expensive, and there were more rounds of asking for money.

Besides that, the performers seemed to be in better spirits than last time...

A lot different?

"Butterfly! Little butterfly!"

After the show, Beatrice shouted and pulled Randolph's sleeve, dragging him out of the venue - Halida was selling beer outside, and Beatrice hadn't seen this dark-skinned, silver-eyed foreign friend for a long time.

"I thought you had forgotten all about her, Betty."

Randolph looked down at his excited sister and said teasingly, "You smear paint everywhere all day, and you still remember that you have a friend?"

"I have one! A friend who is only slightly worse than Roland!"

She pinched her index finger and thumb, leaving a thin gap.

"You can't talk like that, Betty. You have to say, 'Miss Halida is as good a friend of mine as Roland,' okay?"

Beatrice suddenly became quiet.

Blue eyes looked directly at his brother.

After a while, he uttered something that made Roland and Bronte burst into laughter.

"My brother is a liar."

Randolph: ...

"No, Betty. I mean, you can think it, but you don't have to say it, right?"

"That's what I'm saying! That's what I'm saying!" Beatrice shook off Randolph's hand, grabbed Roland and rushed out with the crowd.

He turned around and glared at his brother fiercely.

Very cute.

"My brother calls himself 'Bronte' when he sleeps! He is a liar——"

Roland took him away.

The master and servant were left in an awkward situation.

He straightened his top hat which was not crooked, lifted his collar which was neat and clean, and stretched his sleeves which were of standard size and spotless - just like what he was going to say at the beginning of the conversation: it was all unnecessary and only served to waste time and resolve the awkwardness.

Then, he grabbed his cane and raised his arm to make a path for Bronte in the crowd.

The carefully dressed governess bowed her head and knelt, then hurried into his arms.

"Betty's jokes sometimes go too far, Miss Bronte. I hope you won't compare me to those vulgar characters..."

Randolph remained calm, looking straight ahead, his throat pressed back as if he was discussing some important business, very manly.

"My sister is just too lively. Doesn't she always like to joke with you?"

Bronte followed Randolph with her head down, saying nothing.

joke…?
Out of consideration for Mr. Taylor's reputation, Bronte did not tell him about this - she happened to be covering him with a blanket when he was taking a nap and talking in his sleep that day.

four times.

Mr. Randolph.

(End of this chapter)