The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 675 Ch.674 Countryman's Troubles

Those who can join the "Headless Club" may not all be smart, but at least there are no stupid people.

——Whether they are ritualists of the "Alliance" or invited by ritualists.

Because this club is currently one of the few legal places where strange objects, rituals, including secular industries, and even "not very legal" items can be freely traded.

No one will get involved in such a troublesome incident for two strange objects.

The invisible art is not terrible. An ignorant son of an old father in the countryside got an unknown ritual and was "lucky" enough to successfully activate it. Similarly, this will not stop powerful ritualists.

As mentioned before.

When you start to have money, you have to learn how to stay away from danger.

In the eyes of these people, the whole thing is not dangerous. The danger is the "future" - what will happen in the future.

It is a felony for mortals to explore, trade or spread the invisible art without authorization, not to mention drawing a complete ritual, and he succeeded.

Just two strange objects.

The Headless Club will be held every once in a while.

No one will die tomorrow.

They have plenty of time and money to enjoy tobacco, women, fine wine, and all kinds of entertainment, and leisurely search for what is important to them in a happy life - no one is willing to take risks, whether mortals or ritualists.

Even some of the club members who are about to reach the high ring have never really fought with other ritualists in their lives -

So what?

What is more important than being alive?

This is an invisible technique.

Soon, the fire-chasing hounds of the Holy Cross will come...

No one wants to deal with those "unfeeling" monsters.

"May the daughter of hustle and bustle bless you, Mr. Anchel."

Old Anchel forced a smile and returned the greeting decently. After sending people away one by one, his eyes returned to his seat - the only one who was still "calm".

"I knew it was like this..."

The bearded man sighed.

"He reminded me. This is troublesome, isn't it?"

Talking to himself, or talking to the young man in front of him - he has a pair of unforgettable golden eyes and long black satin hair.

It is difficult for Anchel to describe the man's appearance with his already scarce vocabulary.

Even though he did have a desire to flatter.

He has never wanted to praise a man so strongly in his life... especially his appearance.

"Your courage is like your face."

"He is indeed from the countryside."

"He doesn't seem to have learned how to praise others decently."

-

Yes, it's really stupid. After all, you have learned it.

"..."

Perhaps this is the last "hope", old Anchel spoke more cautiously.

He pulled a stool and walked around the round table to Roland, lowering his posture to his feet: "...you...you are willing-"

Roland rubbed his knees and grinned: "My legs are just numb, Mr. Anchel."

Anchel: ...

He has another choice.

Bring back the holy water, kick open the door at midnight, and fight to the death with the evil spirits...

Just kidding.

He has not lived long enough.

"I am curious, didn't you ask your son?"

"Of course, of course, the second time I heard it, when I confirmed that it was not an illusion - my wife and I drove to a far place for a picnic, at that time, I asked..."

The result is.

His son was unwilling to say.

Anchel dared to guarantee that it was definitely not caused by some "mysterious" power - he just wanted to kill his parents, to anger them to death, to scare them to death, and to stick his lips together, waiting for the body to be cold and smelly, to scare the people who gave birth to him to death.

"I can't do anything to him, sir."

Anchel began to rub the fluffy face again.

This reminded Roland a little of the black dog Jack.

But his was more curly, like wool.

This one's...

It's not easy to describe specifically.

Too obscene.

"He has his own friends, his own circle, and even learned a lot of knowledge that I don't understand - he often said, don't live on annual rent like me..."

"What can I do with him?"

"If you provoke him, I'm afraid he won't come back at all. By then, it will be over when his body is cold and smelly..."

The slightly rough old gentleman cried like a delicate girl at this time.

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Roland doesn't quite understand the relationship between him, his wife, and his son - the relationship between parents and children.

'What can I do with him? '

What does this mean?

"It means that he loves his son very much."

-

I still don't understand.

-

If I have a son, and he holds an illegal ceremony without telling me, I will twist his head off.

"What if it's a daughter?"

-

Daughter...what's wrong? -

My daughter has no head?

"..."

"Love, Roland, love, do you understand?"

-

If I had dared to steal Brenda's socks and... like those kids when I was a kid

-

Yam would probably hang me up.

"I thought she would say, 'Don't mom's...'"

-

You better not let me use the most vulgar words to you.

"All right."

"That's normal, isn't it. Just like Randolph versus Beatrice."

-

You mean, Mr. Anchel’s son also has some ‘little problems’?

"..."

"You win this time."

-

Fifteen to one.

"I don't remember losing that many times."

-

Who can remember the number of times they have lost?

"I can."

"Especially to you."

-

All right…

-

So, fourteen to one?

"I knew you were talking nonsense!"

…

"So, your son is not willing to tell you what exactly happened."

"...He is a sensible child, sir. I think there must be something that bewitched him...that thing that played the piano at night..." Anchel gritted his teeth: "Maybe, he is afraid that if he tells it, that thing will harm us. …disaster to his father and mother…”

"I'm afraid you're overthinking it."

"You were not going to seek help at Holy Cross, clearly knowing that it was against the law."

"No, sir, I didn't know it at first," Old Anchel shook his head: "My father and I have always been in Basildon. He returned to heaven, and I lived with my wife - and then, we had Children, getting older day by day..."

"Don't talk about these 'mysterious' worlds, sir. I rarely even set foot in London, and I don't have much enthusiasm. If my friend hadn't reminded me, I'm afraid I would have carried a murderous crime to Holy Cross. Looking for a rope to hang your neck."

Anchel has a good friend.

He was right.

Once the case was made known to the Inquisition, for whatever reason, John Anchel would be in serious trouble.

Roland lowered his eyes and pondered, and his eyes happened to fall on the pair of beautiful scimitars.

Anchel was really worried, and his voice was hoarse and urgent: "Sir! I beg you to help me! Even if it costs more! My friend said that once this trouble spreads, soon there will be 'fire-chasing hounds' 'Come to your door - although I have never dealt with those people in black uniforms..."

"But hounds have always been seen and raised before!"

"For the sake of the fact that we belong to the same "league" and the same club, I beg you...even...even if you point out a path with little hope for me - don't watch me fall into the mouths of those wild dogs. …gentlemen…"

"Maybe there is something I can do to repay you..."