The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 393: Crazy Victory and Strange Favor

"Roland."

The wheels rolled over the puddles.

The awakened young man seemed to have spent several years in the past.

Those childhood memories, the ice, the borrowed chisel, Yam who hit him and cried, the twisted door.

Finally, the fading blurry outlines of Shelley and Rose…

Safe.

Everything melted in the burning flames in his eyes.

"Welcome back, stinky cat."

He didn't have time to respond to the fire because the person who woke him up looked so nervous.

"…Roland, wake up."

Peter Heller opened the door, letting in a stream of cool air.

"Rebecca Fiennes is dead."

He said.

The blood and flesh shattered in the carriage made him extremely alert. At the same time, he ignored the madness that flashed in the eyes that had just awakened.

The person who danced on the edge of a knife finally lived to the end.

Welcome back, my snitch.

…………

……

at the same time.

Shelley's old house.

The two masses of flesh and blood splattered everywhere - the room's jewel-encrusted silver mirror, the ceiling, the clothes racks and the closets.

Some pieces of meat hung over the candles, emitting a disgusting burnt smell.

James Shelley was lying in this room covered with bloody and fleshy webs, trapped in layers of red silk threads like a cocoon, staring quietly at the 'prey' on the other wall.

Green-eyed girl with curly hair.

She had just woken up from her sleep.

On the blood-soaked blanket in the center of the room were fragments of clothing—clothes from John Shelley and Madeleine Terry.

Their flesh and blood gushed out like fountains, and their heads looked like melons hit by a heavy hammer.

A trap.

The two people who set the trap were unable to escape from the dream.

Such is the fate of explorers.

James Shelley lamented.

He made his choice.

I don’t know if this is the right choice…

Gave up his son and chose another strange bloodline.

No way.

Because the Shelleys would never, ever associate with cultists.

Never, not even if the world is destroyed.

"John's mother died in an attack. It was a premeditated attack by the cultists against Shelley... or a massacre." The old man trapped in the blood cocoon muttered to himself, to Rose and to himself: "In order to save me, she gouged out her eyeballs and cut off her tongue."

"To be honest, that should be done by me."

Shelley said.

"But I thought at the time that there was always another way. For example, waiting for the church's support, maybe my ritualists could hold on for a while..."

“She’s much more decisive than I am.”

"She's better than me."

The old man rambled on and on: "Later, I found many reasons to comfort myself. As I said just now, she is more decisive than me - decisive, this word is wonderful, isn't it?"

"It can cover up my cowardice and stupidity."

This is why James Shelley wanted his son to walk only in the waking world—not only because he didn’t have the “qualifications”, but also because the world of the Ritualists was too dangerous, and when he died, Shelley would no longer have to participate in these dangers.

"Shelley will decline and lose most of her power and business. This is normal. This is how the world works."

"But as long as John behaves himself, even if he drinks and revels all day, sleeps among gold and gems, or even kills a few servants and plays with someone's wife when he's free, it won't be a big deal."

"He will have many children, and someone can ensure that he will be ignorant, stupid and ordinary until the end of his life."

From now on, the Shelley family will become one of many ordinary surnames.

Gradually marginalized by private alliances.

But, it also means they are safe.

This was James Shelley's request, as a member of the Dreamland infiltration and as a dragon hunter, in exchange for the alliance's condition.

pity.

He was so busy with business and the road that he neglected John's restless and lustful heart.

Maybe he knew it already, but he always thought that John could conquer his own heart.

"Your son is a coward."

The curly-haired girl opposite suddenly spoke up, her green eyes like a wild fox in the forest, full of mockery after playing with its prey: "My men and I followed him for several days - to be honest, he didn't even dare to attack someone who was a little stronger, even a woman."

"Your son, the heir, only dared to sneak around and stab people in the neck, chest and abdomen with a candlestick while they were sleeping."

"What a coward."

Rose grinned, not hiding the fact that the old man had lost his son.

At the same time, her crazy little head full of cake cream couldn't react in time, why was she still alive.

perhaps.

Roland helped.

He's always been so great.

"If your son had been anything like you—for example, if he had faced his own cowardice and acknowledged his own stupidity—perhaps he would have known that Madeline Terry should have been killed first."

"When he was a kid, he wasn't very smart."

James Shelley did not speak, but just looked at the curly-haired girl quietly, seeing her refusal to submit to anyone. Her "my friends and I are the best" look reminded the old man of his youth.

At that time, he also thought that he and his friends were the best.

The best in the world.

"But you were caught by such a coward." James Shelley mocked and delivered a fatal blow.

It went smoothly, and he irritated those green eyes.

"It's only natural that your son is finished! He should have died long ago! A man-eating monster!"

Rose struggled a few times but couldn't break free from the blood cocoon, so she spat.

"And you, old man. The Shelley family's lousy name can only produce lousy people. I think you are not much different!"

This made the old man laugh.

But laughing was hard for Rose to handle.

Especially the look in the old man's eyes that made her feel uncomfortable - she didn't know whether it was 'favoring' or a deeper kind of remembrance, he just cursed and there were few good words in every sentence, only dirty words.

In Miss Snitch's opinion, Roland will be here soon and the Shelleys can't do anything to her.

"I won't hurt you, kid."

Old Shelley tried to comfort him gently: "My foolish son did something wrong, and this is what he deserves, but I want to remind you: it is best not to reveal what happened in the dream to others."

"I won't hide it from my friends."

"I certainly don't mean your fellow executive, kid. I mean the others."

It's about a puzzle box, a secret, and a strange name.

Saint Archbishop of Rome.

history.

Old Shelley had some guesses, but he would have to look them up later.

Perhaps, "bringing the mystery box to my sanctuary" is not that easy.

Sanctuary.

This sanctuary is most likely neither in the sleeping world nor in the waking world.

It’s not even in their history.

Fifty years.

It takes a long time, maybe Mr. Golden Eyes will spend his whole life searching...

He himself would not live for fifty years.

"People from the Inquisition will be here soon. Once Rebecca dies, your clever little friend will quickly notice and know what's going on and rush over to save you."

"Of course." Rose moved her shoulders, trying to get her head away from the sticky and smelly blood net: "He was executing--"

Stopped abruptly.

After saying this, the thief himself realized that he seemed to have exposed something.

Old Shelley was nearly laughing to tears.

"It seems you are not an executive officer."

"At least my friend is!" Rose bared her teeth, her threatening look was both fierce and cute - at least in the eyes of old Shelley, "and me? Let me tell you, I'm a robber, a thief, who will sneak into your bedroom at night and cut your throat -"

"Don't think that I don't have that status, so you dare... dare..."

She suddenly realized that the other party didn't dare to do anything to her.

And this old man's surname is Shelley. If he does something bad to Roland because of me...

Thinking of this, the fierce skin quickly melted, the green eyes lost their wildness, and began to mumble and spin.

"...Actually, I don't think John Shelley can be compared with you." She spoke in a delicate voice, which sounded awkward.

Old Shelley tilted his head to indicate: 'Please continue'.

"Well, it wasn't the Shelleys' fault, was it? It was his own fault, succumbing to the temptations of the cultists - at least you look fine, old man. You look...ah, full of energy?"

Now he is an old gentleman.

Ha, full of energy.

"Have you figured it out?"

James Shelley had a teasing look on his face, and his wrinkles looked even cuter. "Think about it. Even if I have a cultist son, the Inquisition can't do anything to me. But if I, the master of the Shelley family, do something bad to you and your friends, you'll be in big trouble..."

"Do you understand?"

Rose smiled flatteringly: "Hey, how can an old gentleman like you care about an unpresentable woman like me..."

James looked at her and had a strange feeling.

It was the same when you were young, wasn't it?

Vicious, shameless, cunning and fierce.

You can be humble, but you can also cut the enemy's neck with a knife the next moment you are humble.

The beasts in the jungle have their own laws of survival.

They are lawless and blood is more romantic than roses.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Someone finally behaved: "...Lillian Rose Vansittart."

"Oh, another Vansittart." Old Shelley's eyes moved slightly: "I seem to have heard of this surname, Miss Thug."

The mastermind behind the Gold Tooth Gang apparently remembered this surname that had once caused them a lot of trouble.

Vansittart.

You see, fate is made up of countless coincidences.

Perhaps, in the last stage of his life, the god of noise still had mercy on him.

James Shelley thought sadly.

John…

If I had found your sister earlier and brought her back, perhaps you would all have lived a better life.

Maybe I should have died a long time ago.

I gave up my son and chose a 'clean' wild girl.

The old man hates his own sense of advantage and disadvantage, but a person who is advantaged lives in the midst of advantage and disadvantage, so how can he not be advantaged?

(End of this chapter)