The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 727 Ch.726 The Voice from... (Additional)

-

Someone is talking in my ear.

-

wrench.

certainly.

It was more intense than Roland.

The beam of white flame shot almost straight into the sky, and after exploding in the dome, it scattered like rain, creating ripples of flames that spread to the waves.

However.

It couldn't find the source of the sound.

-

I didn't lie to you.

"Of course I know you wouldn't joke about something as silly as this..."

"So, what did you say?"

Roland tilted his head slightly.

Gaze at the sparkling sea.

'Hello, my fellow countrymen.'

The unclear female voice seemed to rise from the bottom of the water to the surface, quickly adjusting the frequency and tone of her speech, from "hello" to "fellow countrymen", in just enough time to react.

'oh…'

'Don't you know how to speak our language yet?'

Roland opened his mouth and looked around.

"Roland?" Shandel shook his arm, looking worried. "What's wrong?"

Roland shook his head.

He saw the covered wagons carrying wooden boxes from the way he had come, then passed the fishing boats, the stone locks and the painters, the couples who came for vacation, and the flocks of seabirds that landed on the stone railings.

'Here I am, fellow man.'

The female voice is playful.

'You're too tall...'

The other party seemed to enjoy Roland's "stupid" performance. The tone of his voice was like a clever finger playing a trick on him. He jumped back and forth on his shoulders and avoided his sight like a child.

Roland thought about it.

Pull up Shandel and head back.

'oops!'

'I'm just copying your sense of humor!'

'Oh my!'

"Okay..."

'I apologize, fellow man.'

"Although you are more beautiful than any creature I have ever seen...yet you have a very bad temper."

'Isn't this reasonable?'

'The brightest gems need the most terrible iron bucket.'

'The sea breeze brings my voice to you...'

'Aren't you curious—Oops! I apologized!'

This little chatterbox reminded Roland of Betty.

While he and Bronte were talking in the room, she was standing by with a paint-stained brush, saying "ah, ah".

…

Roland: "...Yes, Miss Bronte, although I have no artistic talent, I at least know the basic good and bad."

Bronte: 'That is not a gentleman's statement. You are not superficial at all.'

Beatrice: 'Ahhh!'

Roland: 'Why don't you show it to Randolph?'

Bronte: '...I'll find a chance later.'

Beatrice: 'Ahhh!'

Roland: 'I understand your embarrassment.'

Bronte: 'Even less gentlemanly!'

Beatrice: 'Ahhh!'

Roland: 'In short, Miss Brontë, I like this story, and I believe it will be a great success...'

Bronte: 'There is no such thing as a "great success" in literature.'

Beatrice: 'Ahhh!'

Roland: 'Then I should wish you...'

Beatrice: 'Ahhh!'

Roland (sighs): 'Okay, Betty. What do you want?'

Beatrice (smirking): 'Nothing!'

…

Roland had a tense face. The faster he walked, the faster the voice in his ears spoke - but if he suddenly slowed down, the voice would also slow down.

Very interesting.

Shandel is not so interesting.

Because you have to coordinate with someone who suddenly walks fast and slow on the dock, and try not to appear awkward - in this respect, Rose is better than her.

"…Roland, I'm going to strangle you."

After he jogged for a few seconds, he suddenly raised his feet like a turtle. Xiandel finally couldn't bear it anymore.

"Either stop or kiss me now."

"Let me guess which one you want me to choose—"

Roland's chin was pinched.

The girl tiptoed.

Passersby smiled.

The voice in my ears was angry.

"Oops! My compatriots actually chose a freak!"

It screams.

'How horrible! She looks like a monster! Fellow countrymen! You should have made better choices!'

'Come to the seaside!'

'Come to the seaside at night!'

'I can introduce you to my mother, my elder sister, my younger sister, my...'

'Myself.'

'Come at night! Come when the moon is looking at us! Come when the waves are looking for you!'

'To where the anchor is, where the waves shine brightest!'

…………

…

"You mean, there was a 'thing' talking in your ear just now?"

In a hotel not far from the church (the place in Jerez was really too small to accommodate anyone), Cinder sat on Roland's bed, staring at the man who was looking at himself in the mirror - the man she had just bitten.

"If you concentrate, I won't."

"I was very focused, Shandel. I was more focused than when I was fighting the cultists." Roland rolled his tongue, with blood stains on the corners of his mouth. "You almost bit off my tongue."

There were wrinkles in the girl's blue eyes.

She raised her right hand and pretended to hold the cup.

"I know when you are truly 'focused'..." She wanted to describe Roland's plump figure, but she felt that this was not a good opportunity - talking about that 'voice', she couldn't seduce people regardless of the occasion like a thief who was raised by a prostitute...

A lowly and vile piece of shit.

"I heard nothing."

"Of course, because it's talking to me." Roland wiped the corner of his mouth and pulled a chair to sit down. "It's a girl's voice, Shandel. I roughly know what it is."

He pointed to his throat.

Shandel frowned: "Alien."

"Yeah, probably...I guess."

Roland could guess what the other party was, but he didn't understand why it called him "fellow countryman" - because of the voice, or the blood?

"Probably anything you can think of."

-

Being a human should really give me an annual allowance.

"Aha, why else would you insist on holding on to it?"

"You already have... let me think, at least seven bites of cake, which is completely alien."

-

Seven small cakes...

-

You mean, one third?

"About seven, Roland. Do you want to meet it tonight?"

-

certainly.

-

Aliens are always safer than strange ritualists.

"What gave you this illusion?"

-

Everything I could think of and experience.

"So, what did it say to you?"

Seeing Roland in a daze, Shandel whispered, "Do you want to tell Fernandez?"

She meant: tea party, or, court of inquiry.

"No, just the two of us."

Roland unbuttoned his cuffs and glanced at the clock on the wall.

He rolled up his sleeves and stood up.

"We still have plenty of time before dinner."

He picked up the unused tie and twisted it a few times in his hands, looking down at the trembling girl beside the bed with contempt.

Like an ominous omen that can't wait.

"You really should change that habit, Shandel."

The girl's eyes turned red and soon she started to cry.

Start sobbing.

"Call me holy garbage," she silently raised her head, unable to suppress her grief like a child attending a parent's funeral: "Or a stinking ditch, a ** hanging with feces..."