The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 389: Ice Lake
Two manuscripts annotated with Wilmot were taken away by Director Miguel.

after that.

The old pastor said that he would take the evil-possessed boy to a holy and glorious place to live for a while.

Once he is bathed in the light, no evil spirit can get close to him.

James Jones was grateful to him and also to Director Miguel.

She told Roland to be obedient, and soon, when he came back, no one would dare to say anything - if his eyes could be healed, the future would definitely be different.

Little Roland is also looking forward to it.

Until he was grabbed by the collar and thrown down the stairs by the old pastor, and he rolled down and fell into the cold cellar.

From then on, his concept of time became blurred.

Because there was no lunch and no noisy conversations during breaks, he had no way of judging when he should be awake and when he should be asleep - the only things in the cellar were rats and strange insects, as well as the occasional open wooden door, rotten bones thrown down, or bread crumbs as hard as bricks.

It should be 'pebbles'.

This old priest is not a priest at all.

At least, a pastor would never bring two or three women home, shaking them and shouting "the eyes of the All-Father" - that doesn't sound respectful at all, and a pious person wouldn't say that... right?
He drinks, smokes, and spits as much as he breathes.

Sometimes, when he was drunk and happy, he would open the door, go down the creaking stairs to the cellar, play with little Roland with a whip, and then leave the boy covered in blood and go away cursing.

"Shit Miguel! He gave me a burden like you and you only gave me a few dollars?!"

The old pastor said so.

"I give you food and drink every day! But you act like a mute!"

He wanted Roland to obey like those women, to respect him, to beg for mercy when he should, and then, to call him 'my Lord' or 'honourable sir' - what difference did it make?
Those women were paid to do this.

Roland?

He fed him and kept him alive, and he should do the same.

But little Roland didn't, so he had to be beaten.

Fortunately, the old priest was not clumsy, and old enough that his fists and whips were not so unbearable.

"I…I want my Yam."

"You'll never see your bitch mother again, little bastard."

Once, after beating the boy with a broken chair leg, he told him cheerfully: "Miguel will let you live for a while to see if that bitch has anything else hidden..."

He said.

"I don't want to harm a child, but I have no choice. Look at your eyes, face, and nose. They are so beautiful. We promise to sell you a big price..."

A drunk person's expressions are always intermittent, but if you listen long enough and often enough, you can piece together a simple truth.

such as.

Little Roland knew exactly how much he was worth.

This amount of money is not much in the workhouse. If we follow the law, save face, and then exploit the people through the "rules" of the adults, it is not much.

But if it was just Mr. Miguel, who shared the profits with the pastor, and sold it under his "personal name"...

That sounds like a lot.

A large sum of money.

"Where will I be sold?"

"Someone who loves you," the old pastor replied, "when you learn to be good."

He was too lazy to touch the smelly boy, and the food and water he threw to him became worse day by day - little Roland even found a narrow piece of iron as long as a finger that had accidentally fallen into the horrible thing that could not be called food.

Almost swallowed the piece of iron in my throat.

Half a week later.

When the old pastor walked down to the cellar again with the wooden hammer, the loose wooden ladder, which had been in disrepair for a long time, could not bear his weight.

He fell down the stairs and broke his neck.

Some people said that his face accidentally hit the pile of scrap metal in the cellar, and the scratched flesh was turned inside out. The scene was extremely scary - and this undoubtedly proved a problem:
Little Roland is indeed cursed.

That old priest didn't have a good end.

soon.

He was thrown back into the workhouse.

Yam was happy and disappointed - happy that her Roland was back; disappointed that all this was in vain.

"Is he good to you?"

"Very good..." The boy pursed his lips: "I have meat to eat every day."

The childish lies of children rarely fool adults, especially Ms. James Jones, who knows the price of meat.

She didn't say a word, but took off Roland's shirt at night while he was sleeping.

I saw scars and bruises on his body caused by burns from boiling water or something.

She didn't know what the burn was, she was not a doctor.

"So, you sent my child to an abusive old man and took away two books of poetry left by my husband - this is what you call exorcism! God bless you! I doubt that he is a priest of the Holy Cross at all!"

In Miguel's office, the meek woman roared like a lion for the first time.

Roaring and crying.

"It's all my fault! He's covered in wounds! Father of all things...how could you be so cruel?! He was just a child, a child!"

"If that dirty, obscene old man hadn't fallen to his death, I'm afraid I would never see him again!!"

Her hair was disheveled, she was barefoot, and her left face was swollen.

Miguel just sat on the leather sofa, holding a cigarette, and watched the woman go crazy.

He had been hungry for too long.

Need money to feed my flesh and blood.

He hadn't had a full meal in so long, ever since Abner came.

Those who are hungry will have their consciences starved to death.

not to mention…

What does selling a piece of bread or a cigarette to someone who needs it have to do with conscience?
"You'd better do what I say, Yam."

He puffed out a cigarette and said gently, "I've found a good buyer, but he can't go through the workhouse. Let's say he was lost, wandered off, or died in that icy lake - do you know how much he could sell for?"

"incredible."

"Enough for you to live on until you find a good man."

Miguel said.

"But not through the workhouse, and not to Abner. You see, I've paid a lot for you."

Beautiful people are rare.

Children who are beautiful to a certain extent, such as Roland, are even rarer.

Especially, his age.

"I was planning to give you some of the money from the sale, and also find you some easy work... Now you tell me, that's your child?"

With the sound of cowhide rising and falling, he stood up with a cigarette in his hand and walked up to the woman with red eyes.

He ignored the dangerous, hysterical look in her eyes, and used his other hand to open her lips, pry open her chin, and then threw the still burning cigarette in.

"I know it's against the rules - but the more against the rules it is, the more money we make..."

"Yam, many of the kids are on good terms with you, you should use this to your advantage. How can a truly smart person stay in the mud all the time?"

"There are so many boys and girls in the yard, and this is all money. Money that doesn't have to go through the poorhouse and leaves no trace."

He stroked Yam's swollen cheek, the result of his anger.

The wandering fingertips are as gentle as a slow and sharp knife.

"I'm different from Abner. I have to work hard to get into the kitchen. I have to work hard and eat a lot..."

He loosened his hand and slowly took out a handkerchief from his chest to wipe his fingers: "A person who is about to starve to death will eat his own kind...Yam Jones."

"Your husband is dead, understand?"

The woman was silent for a moment, then she spat the extinguished cigarette butt on the ground and stared at him fiercely: "If you dare to hit on Roland, I will -"

"You will be assigned a heavy task by me, or you will fall to your death on the icy lake not far from the back of the yard." Miguel smiled: "Well, I'll give you some time to think about it."

"Three days later."

"Let's go take a look at the ice lake."

"There's this girl who saw something she shouldn't have seen, who didn't know what to do. . . . Well, I heard she used to talk to you, didn't she? I'd say the boy was much smarter than she was - someone offered her ten shillings and she wouldn't be satisfied..."

He said.

"Go and see how I deal with these defective products... Yam, I'm not a noble lord. I speak directly."

The sound was like a light going out.

A boy leaned against the window, his golden eyes slowly closing.

(End of this chapter)