The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 352 Ch.351 Painful Wandering

Anne Vansittart ultimately didn't get the answers she wanted.

She was different from the wandering citizens.

She didn't want pennies, shillings, pounds or anything tangible - she had let go of a hope, and now she wanted to hear the sound of its wings flapping in the echo of the world.

Roland didn't tell her.

He wanted her to continue wandering in the dormant world, in the dark, lightless, chaotic and terrifying storm land, so that she would not be able to get the news, and maintain her pitiful existence like a walking corpse only by the occasional flash of light in her soul.

He is extremely vicious.
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It seemed to me that there were only two possible solutions for Anne Vansittart.

Roland put on his hat again and watched the tall woman staggering away, watching her pass by the terrified gun muzzles and screams, moving her stiff legs with her head drooped, leaving behind scarlet footprints with every step.
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Either that or Lillian Rose Vansittart died in front of her.
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Or her enemy.

"You know how to be liberated."
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I'm not going to tell her 'Lillian is in good hands with me, you can leave without worry' - that's stupid, Wrench.
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Tooth for tooth, blood for blood.
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Either she will wander forever with hatred and suffer forever, or... sooner or later she will be led by her soul to take the right path.

"Now he finally looks like a cult leader."
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You don't understand my kindness, dear.

"I'm used to you talking nonsense all the time."

When the ghosts disappeared, this "field" also lost its source of power.

They stepped into a palace made of glass.

Now, the glass is about to break.

Roland rubbed his face, his expression changed from calm to panic. He strained his throat and suddenly became flustered: "…This, this method actually worked?!"

Randolph: ...

Bronte: ...

Everyone present:...

Do you think we are stupid?

Randolph also began to rub his face.

Because Roland's acting is really a bit embarrassing.

That's fake, Mr. Collins.

"Randolph! I did it! I really did it!!"

Randolph had a blank expression on his face, and his voice was as steady as a priest reciting a prayer at a funeral: "...Yes, yes, it's great, Mr. Collins, you saved us."

The women and children cried for joy, while the three friends of Randolph exchanged strange looks with each other.

The whole thing is easy to piece together in the mind of an intelligent person.

The cause and effect, and why this young man who is not very suitable to be an actor would go to such trouble with Randolph...

They knew they had to say something.

"Goldfinch of the Evans family, the reserve executive officer of the Supervisory Bureau."

Hughes snorted and was the first to criticize: "If it weren't for this young and wise Mr. Collins, we would have been fooled and died with that Evans - we are not afraid of death, are we?"

He looked at the last two friends.

"But we cannot die in such an undignified way, dying in the mouth of a liar, dying under the mouthpiece of a weakling!"

"And bring our wives and our children with us!"

"How stupid!"

"The Supervisory Bureau took taxpayers' money and used it to train such rubbish?!"

"I'd like to ask their superiors, the guy in charge of the Inspectorate, the director, and Her Majesty the Queen! This is London! More than 20 gentlemen who have made great contributions to the country died just like that - they didn't have to die!"

Randolph coughed lightly, meaning: Save this for when necessary.

In short, the Supervisory Bureau is definitely in big trouble.

Before leaving, the three surviving gentlemen told Randolph that they would be more closely around Taylor in the future, and invited Randolph and Roland to attend their small private salon in the near future.

They were grateful for the life-saving grace, Roland's, Randolph's.

"Of course, Bonham. We'll always be friends, right?"

Randolph shook hands with them one by one, and gently told them that the Inquisition and the Supervisory Bureau were two different organizations, and today they should learn the difference between the two organizations...

Until screams broke the friendly conversation.

Passersby passing by the river discovered them.

The ground was covered with blood and flesh.

Rows of empty carriages.

…………

……

"With the testimony of those three gentlemen and their families, including the heir of the Taylor family - this time, the Inspectorate is in bad luck."

An office with spring-like weather all year round. The candlelight and the stove fire come from the same mother.

Enid curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket.

She was like an old cat throughout the winter. If no one disturbed her and she had enough food and drink, she would quietly turn into a stone sculpture, curling up quietly and enjoying every nap.

Roland was the only one who dared to knock on the door without asking - earlier, the other executives looked at him with awe and complicated eyes.

Later, it became more and more ambiguous.

Once or twice, three or four times.

If Roland Collins never had his leg broken, then what was his relationship to Lady Enid Jutia?

"Sir, you said Lady Judia is a woman, and Mr. Collins is a man..."

The apprentice who passed by to get the equipment glanced at the black-haired young man's back, then turned and asked his boss in a low voice.

'Could they be...'

The apprentice pondered.

'They can't be brother and sister, right? Why are their eyes different colors?'

'Or, a distant relative?'

The boss glanced at his stupid subordinate, and was furious when he saw his clear big eyes.

Roland Collins.

It has been less than half a year since I joined the Tribunal.

Now he is a formal ceremony participant.

Putting aside his achievements, just the fact that he had encountered a cultist for the first time and killed him in a one-on-one situation - just for this reason, he deserved the preferential treatment given to him by Enid Jutia.

Not to mention, some rumors are widely circulated but no one dares to discuss them in public.

Because that's blasphemous.

No matter how you look at it, these two people shouldn't be able to get together - no disparagement on Roland Collins, but if Enid Judya wanted a man, there was hardly any in London that she couldn't get.

and so…

It’s not his apprentice’s fault that he’s stupid.

Most people are pretty stupid.

The old boss smiled.

He's old enough to know that the world doesn't work according to 'logic' -

'That doesn't make sense.'

'That can't be the case.'

But that's often the case with many things.

As bizarre as the stories written by those writers...even stranger than that.

and so…

Miss Judia.

Is this the next successor you have chosen for the Inquisition...?

He is not even a "Holy Flame"...

Roland Collins.

"Mr. Heller."

The sound interrupted Peter Heller's thoughts.

The apprentice came back carrying a suitcase containing the materials distributed this month.

The short-haired boy noticed that his teacher and captain had been staring at the deep corridor, so he couldn't help but look around and asked in a low voice: "... Tell me, is Mr. Collins..."

Peter Heller raised his eyelids: "What is it?"

"Your Excellency's relative? Or a cousin or something..."

The old ritualist looked his apprentice up and down as if he had met him for the first time.

"gentlemen?"

"You're a cleaner person than I thought, York."

The short-haired boy looked confused: "Me?"

Peter Heller turned and left: "Otherwise why is your head full of water all day long."

(End of this chapter)