The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 342: Dilemma
A large number of ghosts passed through during the day.

It's almost impossible.

——It is difficult for mortals to witness the movements of ghosts with their naked eyes.

Unless, there's not the sun above their heads.

unless…

They were in a "field".

Roland turned the ring on his little finger.

"The gathering of a large number of "secrets"... you can understand it as gold pounds. A large number of gold pounds built an airtight "house". We are now trapped in this house - so you can clearly see the owners of the room... "

Randolph also admired Roland for being able to give a lecture without changing his expression at such a time.

Although he hopes he will never have to use it in his lifetime.

"I am more afraid of ghosts than cultists. Roland, what should we do?"

The businessman calmed down and began to check the gun in his hand, pouring out the bullets and replacing them with the flat-head silver short bullets that Roland had placed on the table.

——But seriously, no matter how calm I am, the heartbeat that keeps rumbling in my ears vibrates on every fragile nerve.

Timidity and fear.

How could you not be afraid?
If the ghosts around were replaced by dogs, it would be enough to scare most people.

Quantity.

There are too many.

Roland pressed the holy water with his thumb and waited quietly for the knock on the door.

No one can guarantee that they can immediately find out the rules of conduct of a strange spirit when faced with it - if there really is such a person, with the "generosity" of the Holy Cross, it probably won't buy back the holy water at a "high price".

It's like bombarding a maze with artillery fire.

They don't have any other better options.

"If we regard these ghosts as..."

"It's scary enough to be treated as a dog, Roland." Randolph let out a long breath and told the scene he had just thought of.

"How about a boy instead?"

"what?"

"The priests of Holy Cross will be here faster than an impatient sneeze."

Randolph: ...

Bronte: ...

This is really not the time to joke, Mr. Collins.

That's out of place.

The master and servant looked at each other silently.

Bronte: 'I told you he wasn't normal.'

Randolph: 'I just didn't expect it to be so abnormal.'

click.

It's like the sound of wood breaking.

Maybe it wasn't coming from the carriage, maybe it was just outside, just some scrap wood on the road or stepped on by a ghost.

But it was enough to scare Beatrice.

She threw herself into Roland's arms, hugged him, and cried.

"Don't worry, Betty."

Roland stared at the wall of the compartment: a lot of "secrets" poured out.

A strong and rigid cabin...

It should become soft yet tough, like tendons and skin that cannot be torn or torn.

Soon, Bronte was surprised to find that everything around her became "soft" - like a springy ball or a thick and tough belt.

The desperate glass window was blown all over the place by its tragic fate, like a piece of crystal clear, bubble-free soft candy stuck to the skin.

The frame is also bent.

Even under the heel and the blanket, the soleplate that bears all the weight was stepped on and a small dent was made. But when Bronte loosened his grip a little, it bounced back playfully and even made a 'bang' sound.

This absurd scene not only dispelled the fear, but even caused the three people in the carriage to fall into a kind of cognitive confusion for a moment - their brains focused almost all their attention on exploring and discovering the strange world before them, and they temporarily ignored the dense footsteps outside the car and the palm prints pressing on their skin.

“Incredible…”

Randolph stared at Roland, seeing his ponytail fluttering slightly in the windless carriage, and guessed that this might be the invisible power of mortals, the application of the "secret" - he suddenly felt extremely disappointed, or bored, and an inexplicable bitterness surged in his heart. - As for another world, he thought he had seen the whole picture when he was very young:
A wizard who can talk fluently with animals, a fire-loving person who can reach into the fireplace with one hand to pick up coins, a believer of the Cross who can seal wounds, and a skinny cavalry soldier who can knock down a dozen strong men with his bare hands.

He's seen quite a few.

But none of them was more shocking than what he saw today.

This is not about the strength or size of the scene.

A 'mortal' like him couldn't understand how these people distinguished between the strong and the weak or the high and low - Roland only showed him a kind of 'wisdom': about how to use one's strength through the brain rather than the muscles.

Wisdom, imagination, and even images like those described in banned books.

This was Randolph's initial expectation for "mystery".

The magical anticipation of his childhood.

Now it is at hand.

"Incredible, Roland..."

Randolph carefully touched the crooked glass with his fingertips - just as he expected, the glass was as soft as a woman's breasts, and ripples spread out when he touched it.

The originally hard substance is like water.

This is much cooler than washing your hands with flames.

"The power of the Ritualist..."

Randolph murmured.

Roland didn't care about him and Beatrice who was secretly watching from his arms. He cast his eyes to the two cars in front of him at the widest angle. The flesh and blood that were originally full of blood were like a sandy beach under the scorching sun after the tide receded.

This was the second time he felt the exhaustion of the Secret.

Compared to the first time, the night he met Aurora and became her apprentice, today he finally understood why the higher-level ritualists were, the more stingy and cautious they were in every opportunity to demonstrate their abilities.

All his "secrets" were taken away - and then, they condensed into several "real" shadows in the distance.

Men in top hats, women in pastry dresses.

They were in a state of trance, shouting and holding hands, passing every carriage together, moving forward among the ghosts.

Soon, it disappeared around the corner.

……

Mapping:

Concentrate your attention and materialize the imagined objects or phenomena.

Manifestation requires a certain degree of concentration and consumes a large amount of "secret".

Very susceptible to interference.

The materialized phenomena or things do not have any power and cannot affect the waking/sleeping world.

'It's just an illusion.'

'But not forever an illusion.'

……

Roland clenched his dry palms.

Perhaps it was the effect of the great ritual "Sword of Judgment" that he had completed before. He did not feel the fatigue and weakness described in the book, but...

emptiness.

"Roland?"

Randolph called him softly.

"...Look." Roland smoothed out the carriage and the drooping glass, allowing Randolph and Bronte to follow the carriage and look forward.

Roland's "mapping" is only for one purpose.

And he succeeded.

——Unless the carriage is completely smashed, no one would be stupid enough to get off the car first and use their head to lead the way for those behind.

unless.

It has been done before, and it is safe.

When the men and women in the carriage saw the two 'people' holding hands and running wildly along the path, and the ghosts around them had no reaction to this, they realized that perhaps these translucent ghost things would not pose too much of a threat to them.

They ignore the living.

as predicted.

Soon a brave man got out of the carriage.

(End of this chapter)