The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 360 Ch.359 Father and Daughter

"I think he will soon become as obedient as a dog."

A fire was burning in the granite fireplace.

The girl was sitting with her legs crossed, slumped in the single sofa, holding a cup of hot coffee and a closed folding fan beside her.

The man sitting on the sofa opposite was not young, his legs folded on the soft blanket, holding a book of poetry in his hands - even indoors, in the warm, relaxing room covered with soft blankets and animal skins, the round button on his collar was still meticulously fastened with a light gray ribbon.

Like the girl opposite, he also has a powerful ramming horn.

But in terms of facial features, older men become softer, their eyes are no longer sharp, and they don’t look too harsh.

"You must always be vigilant, Madeline."

He is as tepid as a pot of bland spring water, which makes people feel insecure.

"Not everyone is as stupid as those dead children of Heyman."

He traced the blue ink with his fingertips and paused at the last line.

'Hold infinity in the palm of your hand.'

'Eternity in one hour.'

Madeline raised her little finger, shook the coffee a few times, took a few sips at a leisurely pace, and placed it on the round table next to her.

"Of course, Father."

The fire flickered in her eyes: "But I still think that he is a straw bag."

she says.

"My sisters, I have drawn so much wisdom from them. I am experienced and can tell the difference between these types of people at a glance."

She made no secret of her contempt for someone in her words, and the harsh tone matched the expression on her face in a very human way, revealing her contempt for the wild dog that had sent out the application.

Obviously, the part of herself she showed did not represent all of herself.

"He mentioned the box. I think if I had to date him a few more times, I'd have him offering it willingly, eagerly sticking out his tongue, begging me to accept it."

Her voice was shrill, but paired with that restrained lace nightgown, it seemed so reasonable.

Thomas Terry, however, disagreed.

He closed the book of poetry and placed it on a similar round table next to him, then turned his gaze to look at his daughter - he had given birth to a shrewd, selfish, and unscrupulous girl.

Of course, for people like them, being shrewd, unscrupulous and selfish are not shortcomings.

But there is only one.

Madeleine Terry, her own daughter, was too arrogant.

An arrogant person is easily stabbed to death by a nail in his shoe.

"Be proud, but not arrogant, little Mary." The arbitrator spoke gently, tapping the leather armrest of the sofa with his fingers. "James Shelley's son is not a fool. If you want him to surrender, you have to spend some effort..."

"He is not ignorant."

Madeline scoffed.

"He almost sniffed my womb in public, father." The woman raised her head, and her cold chin shone in the firelight with a sharpness that belonged only to flesh and blood: "He was impatient and his blood was boiling. You also know that males will always be controlled by their other selves involuntarily."

Any normal person would know that it was not right for a daughter to say that to her father.

But Thomas Terry did not react to this.

Or maybe no one could see his reaction.

"Be careful, Madeline." The arbitrator was referring to Madeline's methods and standards in this major event: "Don't get hurt, and don't anger James Shelley and his son - if you die, the golden scales will not seek justice for you. You know that this matter may be..."

"of course."

Madeline licked her lips.

The woman in the firelight affected the calm atmosphere in the room, she made the air scorching hot.

"The dual arbitration system of the Golden Libra should be changed."

She giggled.

"My father should be the only arbitrator, the only one on the throne of Libra."

These words seemed to ignite a barrel of gunpowder.

Thomas Terry changed his gentle demeanor, and his whole face was twisted like cowhide that had been through the hands of a leatherworker, wrinkled and twisted in an instant. If someone didn't have a little courage, he would probably be scared by this scene. "Shut up, Madeline! I said! You are never allowed to--"

He was aggressive, but he couldn't scare his daughter.

Madeline's smile was more vulgar and seductive.

"You don't think so, my dear 'father'." She turned her hand and touched the folding fan, opened it with a rustle, and shook her wrist lightly.

The wind blew through the nightgown.

The wind carries a scent.

The wind melted into the air and went into the other nose.

Thomas Terry's eyes dimmed, and his thin lips seemed to have been buried in the desert for several years, in urgent need of a refreshing rain.

"I have spoken to Marvolo Heyman."

He tilted his head slightly, holding the whiskey glass on the table, but did not drink. "...He will help us talk to Mr. Hever, and the Chloe family also supports us - as long as we hand over the mystery box, plus a little hint and connection...we can get the support of the vast majority of the Truth Parliament."

Thomas Terry stared at the brown liquid.

The aromatic substances in it were torn apart by the ice, and blurred on the wine, floating like a layer of white mist.

He needed a strong backing, the backing of the most powerful sect in the country, to allow him to showcase his talents - until he was free of that and truly on the stage, the Holy Cross would no longer be important.

What he believed in was not a hypocritical sect or a false god.

The world should be balanced.

Too many people are selfish.

He enjoyed the power of arbitration, but was confined to the narrow territory of the Just Church.

Holy Cross…

They should be the 'Holy Cross' of this country, bringing greatness to greatness.

"Nothing can go wrong with this, Madeline."

He crushed the amber in the cup and drank it all in one gulp.

"The mystery box is not important, but Heyman, Chloe and Heffer are too important. If we break our promise..."

Thomas Terry was not the strongest ritualist, and the Golden Scales did not rely solely on this thing to elect arbitrators - otherwise, they should be called gladiators.

He had to become more closely tied to the Holy Cross, just as the other Arbiter was to the Maelstrom.

"Also, stay away from your 'sisters'."

Thomas warned.

He indulged Madeline so much that she came into contact with many people she shouldn't have - for example, an organization mostly composed of women.

Thomas Terry had no opinion on men and women, and there were many organizations in London's upper class that only invited ladies.

For example, "Female Scholars", an academic seminar composed of ladies.

But Madeline’s approach was different.

Those people were mean and dirty, and some of their tricks disgusted even him who was used to seeing conspiracies: they were greedy and vicious, and these so-called "common honors" were exactly what Libra needed...

Thomas didn't want Madeline to have too much contact with those people.

Not to mention, it was a cult.

"We have advanced ideas, father." Madeleine disagreed, waving her small fan: "Just like philosophy. Are those writers allowed to write long articles in newspapers and not allowed to discuss it in private?"

Thomas sneered: "I hope you can convince them in the same way when you are tortured by the executioners."

Snapped.

The woman put away her folding fan, stared at him as if possessed, and stood up seductively.

"You won't let them catch me, right...Father?"

Power is like a plague.

There are some taboos too.

(End of this chapter)