The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 668 Ch667 Burns's kindness

Chapter 668 Ch.667 Burns’ kindness

Ms. Burns is a funny and talkative person.

This was Roland's first impression of her.

——Frankly speaking, this lady is not as 'striking' as rumored by the outside world. She has a unique charm that makes all men bow.

She is indeed very smart and knows how to advance and retreat. She knows whether to continue or not with just a light touch on some topics.

However, no one can hate this kind of "smartness".

She did not shy away from talking about her husbands, her 'notoriety', others' suspicions and rumors - she said very frankly that she did not like this and had never done anything criminal. Then, he quickly accepted Rose's apology.

She doesn't hide anything, and once she talks about it, she has to say a few words openly.

Overall, Roland had a good impression of her.

Rose, of course.

She asked this woman who she had an inexplicable affection for if any cultists had come to her door since the case was closed.

"No."

Burns replied softly.

"You'll know when I invite you. There are a few 'selfless' gentlemen who stay at the Field's house all year round. They recently heard about the case in Inns Town and thought of me again." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "They are very concerned about it." My safety, Lillian.”

Rose grinned: "Someone from the Supervision Bureau?"

"Who else would it be?"

Burns said.

"They were afraid that they wouldn't be able to find evidence to accuse me of murdering my husband one after another - if I really have such ability, why don't I find someone with more status and do it just once?"

The side hall is slightly narrower than the auction hall and the lighting is darker. Not to mention the magnificent nature, the organizers obviously consciously wanted to create a 'mysterious' atmosphere - which is not far from Bijin Island.

Except people here can lie.

"I'm very grateful to you and your friends for their help, Lillian, Mr. Collins. But I can't continue to thank you verbally - I don't come from a distinguished background, and my mother has taught me since I was a child that real people should not Always repeating meaningless words..."

"Even if every sentence is true, if it is repeated too many times, it is not only cheap, but also annoying."

She stopped in a dark corner of the side hall and looked at Rose sincerely.

"Maybe to you, Lilian, this is just a trivial help. But to me, it is almost the same as the flame driving away the long-lasting shadow - then, this is the last time."

"What can I do for our friendship?"

Rose seemed to have never been thanked so earnestly and repeatedly, especially when a "notorious" lady talked about their friendship in the flickering firelight like an innocent girl who didn't know how to trim her hair. —

The girl hid her chin shyly and glanced at Roland not far away.

"...I have a question, Ms. Burns."

"Call me Rosalind, or just... Burns."

Rose nodded slightly and whispered to her ears a few times.

moment.

A flash of understanding flashed in Burns's eyes.

She seemed to be smiling but not smiling, her eyes circled around the black-haired man not far away, and then bounced back to the curly-haired girl's face like a rubber band.

"This is an eternal question."

She banged the drum in a loud voice, and the girl was so embarrassed that she almost turned away completely.

"The eternal question about women."

She pulled Rose's sleeves and turned her back to Roland.

"...You are right, Lillian. Men all like 'meaningless' things - just like two boxers hitting each other on the head, insisting on deciding the winner in a bloody mess..."

"Then what's so exciting and shouting about?"

She sighed slightly and scanned the girl's front, which was as empty as deposits in a poor man's bank.

Everything is extremely romantic at the beginning of love, but when it reaches a primitive and barbaric step, the standards of both parties will drop from spiritual to material - or flesh and blood.

Lillian's concerns are very reasonable.

"I don't know what Ritualists, you powerful figures, can do. But I know a lot about more primitive and mortal ones..."

Burns moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, faced his eyes that were gradually brightening, and spoke in a low voice...

…

Roland wandered around the side hall.

Compared to the previous auction hall, this place was a hundred times quieter - everyone tried to lower their voices as much as possible when talking. So far, the most he heard was the 'dong-dong' of heels and canes hitting the marble floor. 'Voice.

The gentlemen, who couldn't tell whether they were mortals or ritualists, sat at smaller round tables and wrote the effects and prices of the items for sale in dark ink on the tablecloths facing outward.

From time to time, someone would sit down, chat for a few words, and then leave quietly.

There seemed to be a huge baby sleeping in this hall, whose cries would scare everyone to death, and everyone was afraid of waking it up.

Holy Cross should also hold a fair like this.

he thought.

Please...you...collect 6...books...!

To this day, all the 'trade fairs' he knows are hovering on the edge of legality and illegality. As for the Crown God Sect, except for the "Private Alliance", no one is willing to deal with mortals and sell precious rituals or rare items to these aliens. Believers.

"Why share valuable knowledge with these mortals and wanderers?"

Because they will bring other equally valuable things with them.

Trading is more than giving.

"You've learned a lot from Pointy Chin, although it's still very superficial."

"Roland, believe me, even if there is no such 'trade fair', the knowledge in the hands of these wandering ritual practitioners will still slowly flow into the pockets of the Crown God Sect."

"Do you think the so-called 'quotas' of the Guillotine Club, these harsh and loose restrictions, come from the private alliance that organizes it, or... from other Crown God sects?"

Roland frowned.

"You've noticed it for a long time, haven't you?"

The sect is in...what's that called? They seem to be drawing a line.

The invisible line that divides people.

"Ask your friend, he knows the word best."

Roland had indeed noticed it early.

Like the rules of the Inquisition, like the rules of the Holy Cross.

You can't transfer knowledge outwards, but there are no restrictions on acquiring it.

The major sects not only drew a line between ritualists and mortals, but also cut a cliff dividing each other between ritualists and ritualists.

"A very smart move."

"Look, what is the difference between ritualists and mortals?"

"Aside from gaining extraordinary power from the night world, the essence of being a human being remains unchanged."