The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 381 Ch.380 The girl holding her head and a familiar person

What was behind the Crimson Spider Door was not what Roland imagined.

He thought it would be a similarly dilapidated courtyard, perhaps a narrower and more gloomy corridor, horrible flesh and blood, or even more dense snakes and ants...

Such horrific scenes?
No.

Behind the door were four pairs of astonished eyes.

A spacious, small banquet-style room, with snake-patterned candles of varying heights burning everywhere.

The floor is clean and reflective.

The walls looked as if the cleaning maid had just swept them with a duster, wiped them carefully with a wet rag, and then lit some incense - a faint but distinct sweet scent was silently spreading in the room.

center.

In the center of the candlelight is a huge hexagonal solid wood table.

Four of the seats were occupied.

Those four pairs of surprised eyes looking over.

Roland knew them.

Shelley and Son.

Madeleine Terry.

And…Rebecca Fiennes.

How come these four people are here?

Roland stared at Rebecca.

His memory...

Still stuck in the conversation with Rebecca.

later.

later…

what happened?

He arrested her, didn't he?

Roland's memory was like winter fog on the glass, getting colder with every inch it got closer.

The bone-chilling coldness clearly reminded the owner of the body:
Prohibited.

In this dreamland, it is forbidden to pry into the secrets behind the winter fog.

Even if it originally belonged to you.

"Looks like you guys need to introduce yourselves."

The four people also had their recent memories blurred - in the eyes of the little Shelley who was speaking, he did not know Rose yet, and he had no idea how close this girl was to him in the waking world.

As for Madeline?
The owner of her skin might know Roland.

"Scissors, you can call me Mr. Scissors."

Luo Toolbox Lan gave up on the drill bit he had thought of and chose a code name that he thought was not too bad, more common and easier to pronounce.

Rose is speechless.

Because she found that the four people at the table all looked somewhat embarrassed: they knew each other, but they had to call a outsider... scissors?

"Then I am the moon."

Rose bent her knees slightly and stepped forward with Roland.

She knew exactly who was at the table.

Cultists.

The father of the cult.

great.

"We lost a memory, the moon and... Mr. Scissor."

James Shelley had slightly curly white hair.

The gentleman's attire did not add any color to the old man. Instead, a certain calm quality in his bones brought honor to the dark suit.

He is different from his son.

He controlled his clothes and his status.

Rose narrowed her eyes and repeatedly tickled her trouser line with her fingers - she was a little unaccustomed to facing such people.

Calm, serious, and often stared at by those eyes, it always seems like they are being looked at back and forth...

Anne is that kind of person.

She was not used to dealing with people like this.

"The Moon and I have also lost a part of our memory, sir. What should I call you? You and your daughter, and your daughter's husband?"

Roland pointed out that Madeleine deliberately confused the relationship just to hide one thing:

Rose and I knew their identities early on.

Simultaneously.

He also gave one man a chance.

A chance to survive if she made the right choice. She didn't take it.

Or maybe she thought about it carefully after being surprised - and still resolutely chose another path.

"He's the executive officer!!"

Rebecca Fiennes screamed!

Roland sighed secretly.

In an instant, John raised his head suddenly, and the malice in his eyes almost turned into a sharp knife!

Madeline curled her lips, resting her elbows on the dark oak hexagonal table, with a playful look on her face: "I was wondering how I could enter the same dream with a stranger... I see."

"Executor."

"The black crows."

She also treated Rose as an executive officer.

"Four against two... You can't leave, little crow."

Since he was already exposed, Roland simply patted Rose on the shoulder, walked leisurely to the hexagonal table, found an empty seat, pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Why don't you kill us now if you can?"

The repressive power of this dream is stronger than ever before.

Roland didn't believe that this woman could exert any power - if she had this ability, she wouldn't have to hide from place to place.

"Don't worry, pretty boy."

Madeline Terry was fearless, her eyes darkening: "When I get out of this dream, I will find you and eat your face, your father's and mother's faces..."

Before Roland could speak, old Shelley beside her coughed a few times, interrupting her threat.

"Say something useful, cultist."

His eyes were emotionless, and even when he glanced at his son, it was as if he was looking at a lamp or a table.

——No matter how vague his memory was, he knew that his son had already embarked on a path from which there was no turning back.

He understands him.

The monkey waving his arms is only hiding his inner cowardice.

In this dream, John Shelley would no longer be his son.

Never again.

"Or, what else do you have in mind, Mr. Shelley?" Old Shelley called his son, expressionless: "I hope that being with the cultists has not destroyed your already dull brain - oh, we are on the same boat now, if you want me to say less, I will say less, Mr.."

John Shelley didn't answer, but his fists hidden under the table were clenched tightly.

“Have you ever walked the same path?”

Rose sat next to Roland, and next to her was James Shelley.

"A forked path, with a church on one side and a hospital on the other?"

Old Shelley shook his head: "No, I woke up in this room..."

Roland pointed his index finger at the table, as if he had found the key to falling asleep.

Rebecca Fiennes, The Cultist.

Madeleine Terry, cultist.

As a "coordinate"... he was probably pulled into the dream by Rebecca Fiennes, while old Shelley was implicated by his own son, Madeline.

So Rose...?
Thinking of this, Roland began to question this ridiculous guess:

is it possible?
What kind of power can actively pull a ritualist into a dream?
He hadn't heard from Fernandez.

All "coordinates" require the ritualist to take the initiative to contact them after falling asleep at midnight.

"Before--"

He wanted to ask old Shelley what he still remembered.

But before he could finish his words, the sound of a door opening was heard in the room.

It was the sour grinding sound of rusted hinges.

On the wall that no one noticed, as several people were talking, an upside-down red cross was dotted and spread out into a small arch.

Someone pushed from behind the door.

It seemed to have no strength, and the door opened very slowly...

then.

Roland heard Ms. Rebecca scream a second time beside him.

There was a short girl behind the door.

She had bare pale feet, and one of her thin arms was wrapped with a snake, and the other had a key-shaped inverted cross hanging from a silk thread.

Under the gaze of everyone, the girl slowly pushed the archway open with her shoulder and came in.

—Holding his head in his hands.

"Good evening, pilgrims."

The head in her arms smiled brightly.

(End of this chapter)