The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 93 Ch92 Letter

Chapter 93 Ch.92 Letter
The return trip was faster than the outward trip.

Crow will go to other places after this mission - he does not exist as a member of the Devinson team. His appearance this time, in addition to targeting the aliens, is also intended to protect Roland and Shandel.

More Roland.

Fernandez didn't want this thriving sapling to die in a mission.

He still has some favor with the crow.

As for the subsequent tasks...

He would rather Roland stop at this step and he would submit personnel applications to Lady Enid for each high-risk mission, rather than Roland rashly embarking on an unknown great road.

But what he said doesn't count.

"That silly guy really cares about you and even gives you 'psychological counseling'."

The flames floated left and right in Roland's sight.

"Don't show sympathy for aliens, don't be soft-hearted."

"I'm afraid that this time, the 'Dancer' will bring some unspeakable changes to you..."

"What a shame, such a harmless creature."
-
Not without threat, Wrench.
-
It does interfere with normal human life.

Speaking of the alien, Roland suddenly lost interest in the conversation.

He held his face and looked out the window.

——The creature dancing in the fire and not forgetting to say goodbye even before death is sure that the woman behind the glass loves it.

It condenses and is born from a woman's wishes, and ultimately dies in a woman's wishes.

She understood what it said, and it was willing to fulfill her wishes.

Poor, pathetic creature.

Alien...

Is it always like this?

The relief of completing the task faded away in that final dance.

Roland hoped they weren't.

…………

……

It can be seen that old Collins misses Roland.

He prepared an exceptionally sumptuous dinner - all of which were things that he couldn't normally eat or was reluctant to eat. Even the steak took up a small plate, poured with sauce and kept warm in the oven. It was served to the table only after Roland took off his clothes.

The room, filled with the smell of medicine, was warm.

"It just so happens that I had a good meal today, and you came back just in time."

That's what he said anyway.

He wiped his hands, poured himself a glass of unmarked whiskey, and drank half a glass.

He noticed that Roland was holding the knife and fork motionless, and he started to grumble again: "If it's poisonous, at least I will die with you..."

Still the original uncle.

Roland: "I brought you a gift."

"It's not a useless decoration, is it? There are no thieves in our house, but I hope you won't make me call the police every few days..."

Hearing about the gift, Old Collins couldn't help but smile, but his words were still full of reluctance: "The few dollars I earn are not enough for you to spend..."

He wiped his mouth, stood up, went to the door and took the small box that Roland brought back into the house.

turn on.

Inside is a silk bow tie with a black background and a light rose-colored pattern.

He looked at the tie but didn't dare to take it. He was as helpless as a bearded boy in his fifties.

Look at Roland, look at the tie.

Look at the tie, then look at Roland.

“…Ahem, well, it’s good.”

He closed the box exactly as he had opened it - with no intention of using it at all.

"Don't you see where we live? Can I go out at night wearing a smock and such an expensive bow tie?"

"I'll keep it for you..." Old Collins carried the box and prepared to put it in the back room, "When you like a girl and want to visit her, it can be used to support the occasion..."

He was gone for a few minutes and returned with a letter.

"I forgot to tell you that a few days ago, Snow sent you something..."

He pushed the letter in front of Roland.

"I haven't opened it." Roland touched the envelope and pushed it back.

"Please read it to me, uncle."

Old Collins glanced at Roland, then stood up and took a rusty letter opener from the cupboard: he gently cut down along the outer edge of the sealing wax without damaging the outer seal, and kept it for use next time.

Inside the letter was a folded piece of paper, densely written in blue ink.

"Ah, Roland," old Collins put the paper close to his eyes and mumbled in the dim light, "To Roland Collins."

"Edward Snow…is this your friend?"

"When did you know those barbers?"

"It's so flowery... I just skipped the words I didn't recognize."

Roland groaned.

The handwriting on the letter was very illegible.

"I wish you good health and all the best, Mr. Roland Collins."

"I am the doctor responsible for the care and treatment of Mrs. Cherry Chloe."

"Edward Snow."

"Excuse me, but I assume that you are not far from what Chloe described."

"If that is the case, then I beg you."

"I was hoping you could provide some assistance to Madam Chloe."

Dark blue ink spread across the letter paper.

Roland's heart suddenly beat twice violently, as if foreshadowing some ominous sign.

"First of all, I declare that I am a person who has great reverence for truth and life."

"I admit that, based on the current situation, I have not been able to find the source of Mrs. Cherry Chloe's troublesome 'noise in the ears' - even though I have used some not-so-good drugs to temporarily calm her symptoms."

"But I can absolutely say that she is not a mentally ill lunatic."

Old Collins folded the letter and continued reading.

Perhaps because the words were becoming heavier and more urgent, his voice became deeper and deeper.

"There is another way to judge crazy patients: I think that the current medical community's judgment of crazy and manic patients is hasty and inaccurate."

"Like Lady Cherry Crowe."

"Since the Lord did not trust me and my judgment (I am sure), after several treatments, I found that this gentleman with a colorful private life had hired several other doctors for his wife - and these poisonous dogs made a horrible and shocking judgment on the wife of a nobleman and an elegant lady."

"They all agreed: Cherrie Chloe was insane."

"The noise that keeps buzzing in my ears day and night is the best evidence."

"(Lady Chloe and the Lord have had several arguments this week. I don't know if this has clouded someone's judgment.)"

"What's even more terrifying is that the lady's brother also provided facts about his sister's 'madness': he and the lord reached a certain agreement and agreed that Lady Chloe needed a certain degree of treatment."

"I am too insignificant to say anything to change the situation (one is my husband and the other is my brother)."

"I contacted the police, but it was obviously pointless."

"As I write this letter to you, they are arranging compulsory measures: to send Mrs. Chloe to a clinic specially established for women for "special treatment" - they say it is a recently invented therapy that has excellent effects on women's mania, depression or mental disorders."

"I don't think that unspeakable and unfounded method can be effective on Madam Chloe, let alone call that stupid method 'medical treatment'."

“I wrote you a letter about this.”

"With reverence for medicine, truth and life."

"I don't know if you are willing to help. But I hope that as a friend of Lady Cherry Croy, Roland Collins can lend a hand to her."

"At least in your wife's words, you are an elegant and brave gentleman."

"Time is running out, I hope to see you soon."

"For this muddled 'treatment', and for life and truth."

At the end of the letter, a line of address was included.

There is nothing else.

Old Collins folded the letter and stuffed it back into the envelope.

"…Roland."

"uncle?"