The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 762 Ch.761 Mr. Valentine

Natalie left in style.

Under the gaze of the executive officers, he smoked a long-stemmed pipe and blew Roland a greasy kiss - no one stopped him.

Peter Heller also pretended not to see it.

Natalie Benevento.

The poker gentleman did not want to offend the surname and the ritualist behind her.

After she left, the remaining two long halls were quickly cleared. Roland couldn't believe that he saw the "Pearl" again in this place: the pearl-shaped alien called the "Golden Violin".

In a huge box.

The men and women, their ears almost stuffed with pearls, were grinning and drooling, and when the executors came in, these people, almost indulging in crazy hallucinations, dared to invite them to join them.

The owner of the room had never used the 'golden violin'.

The old man just sat on the wide sofa, shaking his wine glass, admiring the wine pool that was built with a lot of money, and the crazy men and women in the wine pool.

The evidence is there.

"I didn't do anything but spend money on wine - is this against 'your laws'?"

When the executive officer tried to control these lunatics, he showed no fear, and even kept his noble butt on the sofa, and greeted Peter Heller with a smile.

He knows him.

"It's nice to see you here, Mr. Valentine."

Roland had never seen Peter Heller treat anyone so cautiously - he went forward alone, but let Roland and Shandel guard York and wait at the position closest to the door.

This undoubtedly illustrates a problem.

This middle-aged man named Valentine...

Very dangerous.

He had no memorable features: Roland couldn't tell whether he was wearing a wig or combing his hair back. His eyes were unclear, his hair was blurry, his nose was high or low, his lips were thick or thin - when his ordinary face melted into the shadows, the fire in his sight began to roar.

Roland woke up with a start.

"Don't stare."

He quickly turned his head and looked at Shandel and York - both of them were staring straight at the man on the sofa, and although their faces were ferocious, their gazes seemed never to move away.

-

High ring?

"Obviously."

"You have regressed more than I thought. Especially you, Hele."

The man with a blurred face had a mellow and warm voice, like the firewood burning in a fireplace in winter.

He was wrapped in the most standard suit, with only the tip of his shoe raised up, reflecting the increasingly dim candlelight in the room.

“We haven’t made any moves in 10 years.”

"Enid did a good job. She knew when to move forward and when to be patient." Mr. Valentine commented on Enid in the tone of evaluating a young junior.

Even though he is far inferior to her.

Peter Heller bowed slightly: "The Noti Golden Lamp does not allow any wall to block the view."

Valentine laughed, as heavy as a giant wooden ball rolling slowly in a barrel. "I don't know, Helle. That is the 'limit' you and His Majesty agreed upon, and I never interfere in the private affairs of other sects. I am just here to remind you with one unimportant word."

He tapped the wall of the cup, met Peter Heller's gaze, and pointed downward.

"The Maelstrom is obviously more 'brave' than you thought... Fortunately, I have convinced him. End this as soon as possible, at least before the sun reaches overhead - otherwise, you will end it yourself."

He slowly swirled the glass and took several sips before tasting the wine.

then.

He stood up from the sofa, glanced at the 'angry' Chandel and York, and his eyes fell on Roland's face.

"Golden Rose."

The man's tone was inexplicable.

"I've heard of you, kid. Now it seems that you are indeed more worthy of training than our Saint Maiden candidate..." He seemed to see that Roland's drooping eyelashes were avoiding something, "Come to the Military Intelligence Bureau. There is a place for you to display your talents here... Tribunal? In a few years, there may be no Tribunal."

First time.

The white flame in Roland's sight could not illuminate the darkness and leave any traces.

The black rotten water around was accumulating drop by drop, and the shadows seemed to have life - it was a different kind of 'shadow' from Peter Heller's.

Those that are not manipulated by humans have the shadow of self-awareness.

They should be an undiscovered creature.

Bo——

The sound of the cork interrupted the crazy growth.

In an instant, Valentine's smile became much brighter: "It's a pity that I don't have a subordinate like you, Collins." He looked at the young man who silently covered the mouth of the bottle with his thumb, looked at his golden eyes and the equally bright holy water in his palm.

"If you have thought it over, tell Her Majesty. I think she will be happier than I am..."

Valentine made a little joke and turned to nod at Peter Heller.

The five fingers are slightly bent.

The madmen in the wine pool began to move in unison like puppets:

Start by standing straight like a soldier with your arms hanging down at your sides.

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then.

Arranged horizontally and vertically, they 'came ashore' row after row in an orderly manner.

Without consulting each other, they quickly formed a makeshift team, with bottles of wet red wine hanging from their necks, and knelt neatly in front of Peter Heller.

The scene was so horrifying that it looked like some kind of evil sacrifice.

"Give my regards to Lady Enid Jutia."

Valentine snapped his fingers and slowly backed away—until he had nowhere to retreat and stepped into the shadows.

Like a candle melting into the invisible space.

Shadows flow like water, but without sound.

At this time.

Shandel and York beside him finally emerged from the desperate suffocation. After they exhaled a breath of foul air like a drowning man cutting through the sea surface, they tried their best to inhale again.

Repeat several times.

Dozens of times.

The palms of her hands holding Roland were covered in sweat.

"… Gao Huan's "Assassin" is not simple, right?"

Peter Heller broke the silence quietly.

"I thought you were the example."

"Me? I'm still far from it." The old gentleman had obviously just come out of his tension - the number of years he had spent with Valentine was not much different, at least... it didn't seem like much.

But on the road of mystery, the other party has gone much further than him.

There was no road ahead of him.

"This is what I said before. High-ring "Assassins" master shadows and weaving. They can shuttle between these lifeless shadows and at the same time, they can give them life according to their moods - chaos, prejudice, anger, jealousy, hatred."

"I'll give you a suggestion."

"If one day, you go crazy and insist on fighting an "Assassin" of at least the seventh ring..."

Peter Heller snapped his fingers.

Tentacles stretched lazily from the shadows, reconnecting with the kneeling worshipers.

The puppets changed their owners, but they remained obedient and well-behaved.

"If you must fight an "Assassin" of at least seven rings..."

"Just try to stay away from your teammates."

As he spoke, he turned to look at York and Shandel.

"You felt it, didn't you?"

The terrifying power of madness and chaos dominating their brains, the whispers urging them to quickly break Roland Collins' neck - these Chaos Walkers have already had a preliminary glimpse of the authority that represents "Dispute".