The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 353 Ch.352 Evans's Lover
The only people who survived the scene were Taylor, Collins, and Taylor's friends.

It’s anyone’s guess what the testimony will look like.

The three gentlemen and their families - the ladies were relatively restrained, but the three gentlemen were about to drown the detectives who arrived after hearing the news with their spit.

'Yes, I am insulting you! Either you kill me now in public, or you, your mother, wife, and daughter will be *scarred* and *scarred* one day!'

Fill in the blanks.

Two people became famous in this incident: Derek Evans and Mr. Barent, the hero who lost shamefully.

As for Roland, his name was cleverly replaced by "executive" throughout the incident.

"I thought you would be dissatisfied."

The loose brown hair was spread on the shadow under the soft light.

The woman, breathing in the light and darkness, sat on the sofa, head tilted, and painted her nails again and again with a brush with a fine iron needle.

The kettle hummed on the stove.

The room is warm and the people are relaxed.

"Young people all want to be famous. Women want outstanding beauty and fascinating charm - if they have ripe and plump fruits and thin waists, they would like to use the feather fan to blow their scent into every man's brain."

If there were any executive officers present at this moment, they would be surprised at the gentleness of the lady on the throne, and the hint of teasing and ridicule in her tone.

"A man must have a straight spine, layers of sweat hair, achievements and battles, and eyes that make the ripe or unripe drunk."

Brush swept.

Leave a layer of red dye on your nails.

"Young people all want to be famous..." She paused for a moment: "Maybe, even those who are not young do too."

The conversation went around in circles and bit its own tail.

Enid paid a little attention and moved her eyes from her nails to the young man who was trimming his cigar slowly and at the same time.

Those calm and golden eyes were controlling the silver scissors to cut off the cigar cap.

The closer you get, the more you can see the focus in his eyes.

Cigars are envied.

"I don't mind, Enid." Roland tried to hold the head in his mouth, blew a breath, took it out of his mouth again, and raised his head: "The more outstanding, the more dangerous."

Enid raised an eyebrow, "The valuable knowledge the workhouse taught you?"

Roland hummed, moved the cigar closer to the stove under the teapot, inserted it through the hole, and let the flames roast the tobacco.

He stopped looking at the cigar and started looking at the flame.

Flame is envied.

"You saved my life, you won't hurt me." Roland twirled the layers of rolled tobacco.

"That's possible." Enid lowered her head again and continued to fiddle with her nails. "Maybe, I just don't want to make you famous and let other women see you."

"Come to think of it, I seem to have a nickname." Having cooked enough, Roland put the cigar in his mouth, pinched it and took a sip: "...Golden Rose."

The brush shook and splashed a few drops of red beads onto the table.

Enid held up her five fingers and looked the man up and down, her eyebrows drooping as she couldn't help laughing: "They gave you a girl's name, dear."

Roland said seriously: "I suspect those people are related to the cultists..."

"Don't be like that." Enid laughed so hard that her shoulders shook. "You have to allow others to love you and appreciate you. You were born with a face like this, and your skin, blood, and flesh are a gift from the Father of All Things."

"Someone just said that women shouldn't look at me." Roland curled his lips.

"Humor, this is humor. I'm not Cinder Kratov." When the name was mentioned, Enid clearly noticed a hint of unnatural color in her lover's eyes.

Although, she did not think that the malicious woman could suck any real love from Roland, nor did she think that anyone else had tasted the white, burning blood of her lover before her.

But Kratov...

child.

To share treasures, you must first prove that you are qualified...

A rotting, smelly monster.

"Xander Kratov is busy with her ring-raising ceremony recently. Did you know that?" The woman casually began to trace her little finger, lowering her head, and the cloth shoes under her nightgown swayed gently, like a singing tail. "You should know, right?"

"Don't you guys go visit Fernandez together often recently?"

Roland took a big puff of smoke and blew Enid's words back: "The captain has recovered well."

Enid paused.

This is such an abrupt change of subject, my Roland.

The malicious judge was unwilling to let him off easily. His nasal voice sounded like the hum of an animal frolicking in the wild: "I know he has recovered well. This is thanks to his two good subordinates... right?"

"Xindel Kratov has helped you a lot. Have you given her anything in return?"

"I see you haven't asked?" "Her ring-raising ceremony is not simple."

Roland sighed, "Enid."

"Of course you asked, didn't you? You care about her a lot..." The woman stretched out her arms and repeatedly looked at the five finished long red leaves in the light of the fire. Then, she raised her eyes: "She sticks to you like a slug, it's disgusting..."

"You can't stand her any more."

"In fact, she always can't stand it."

Enid turned her wrist and turned the back of her hand towards Roland.

"Does it look good?"

"As pretty as your hands."

Enid was very happy to hear this, and the corners of her lips couldn't help but rise: "...You are really good at coaxing people."

"I can't help it, Enid. I have already abandoned Cinder Kratov and you are my only lover." The young man who knows how to coax people pretended to be sad and sighed: "Isn't it pitiful enough for me, my 'Golden Rose', to have only one lover now?"

"I have a woman's name, how pathetic."

Enid's eyes were about to burst out with laughter. She leaned back and denied it flatly: "I didn't stop you from finding a lover, Roland. At your age, you should learn what you should learn from your instincts."

Roland blurted out: "But it's not taught by instinct..."

The words have not yet fallen.

Stopped abruptly.

The two rookies who both claimed to be 'experienced' turned their heads in opposite directions at the same time, their white skin slightly reddened under the jumping firelight.

"If that Awl Taylor were here, he would definitely say—"

"'Thank you! I bought an adult ticket, why should I watch two children fighting each other?'"

Roland: ...
-
I know a lot.

"You and this giant bat are as boring as toddlers."

"Cough..." Enid turned her head back while coughing. The disease sounded serious. "Taylor and his friends recently got in trouble with the Supervisory Bureau. Not only did they have to pay a large sum of money, but what was even more troublesome was that those people who died..."

The dead are not like Randolph or Hughes, who can be sent away with money or things.

They each have their own requirements.

Enid thought about it and felt that the Inspectorate was really unlucky.

Because of a weakling, not even a formal detective's apprentice, they fell into a huge setback - the family of the deceased could not tell whether the apprentice could be called a "detective" - ​​a detective recognized by the Supervisory Bureau.

Since Derek Evans is waving the banner of the Inspectorate and so many people have testified against him, the Inspectorate must bear the consequences.

The consequences of stupid behavior.

Enid suddenly remembered something: "The family behind Evans is not very powerful, but he has a good lover."

"lover?"

"Yeah, it has something to do with you."

Enid nodded: "Madeline Terry. The daughter of Thomas Terry, the Arbitrator of the Golden Scales. She likes handsome and eloquent men - such men are charming enough, right?"

"Is she going to rush into the pharmacy and chop off my and my uncle's heads?" Roland asked as he twirled his cigar. "I'm already starting to get scared."

Enid gave him a glare. "Unless she's an ape."

"I think she's worse than an orangutan." Roland shrugged. "Now it seems that hiding my name was a good decision."

Enid raised her chin slightly as if to ask for credit, and tapped her feet like pedals, waiting for the strings to touch each other more closely, making the sound softer and gentler...

Her silent 'welcome' invites one.

Come on.

Her silence speaks volumes.

Roland slowly put down his half-smoked cigar and tugged at his collar.

Then, he leisurely looked at the increasingly impatient black and white piano keys, like a hunter sizing up another hunter.

Or a pianist looking at his own piano.

These days, he and she both learn very quickly and serve as each other's teacher.

In the silence, the sound of breathing blew away the characters one by one.

The shadows on the wall slowly lengthened.

swish swish...

When the red porcelain paint jar was overturned, before it swelled in a kiss——

The flames in his sight were blocked out with curses.

(End of this chapter)