The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 791: Greg and Malcolm

"The Beneventos don't make money like that, Malcolm."

Greg Benevento sat in a plush chair, dressed neatly.

Even in your own villa or study.

He was still dressed as if he had just come back from a party - perhaps this was why some people privately criticized Benevento: old Benevento's eldest son, the old-fashioned and cold Mr. Grek did have a "retro spirit".

The pretentious temperament in his bones was so cruel that he could even deceive himself.

He used a silver book-turning machine, and like a book-turning machine, he always added some extra distance to things that could be easily done - Malcolm, his guardian, stood quietly in the shadow in the corner of the study.

"Yes, sir."

The square-faced, short-haired man lowered his head and responded.

"The Benevento family is wealthy enough."

Perhaps because he was in a good mood, the young master explained a few more words.

"Too many people are watching us. When it comes to the issue of cultists, we must always stay awake and must not be like the majority of people in this country - in other words."

He tucked his chin in and looked up, with wrinkles appearing on his forehead.

"You could also think that Benevento wanted to be more 'conscientious'..."

"You and the master have a long-term vision."

Greg raised his eyebrows, resting his forearm on his knees with the book turner in his hand: "He is indeed a prophet. For a clear-headed person, it is not difficult to be a prophet - provided that he is not blinded by gold..."

"If you get involved in this kind of business, it will probably take two or three generations of charity to clear your family name."

"Benevento doesn't care about this little money."

He took a sip of the bitter coffee and continued, "I don't want to compete with the hyena for the biggest and hottest piece of meat."

The elder Benevento and his successor were of the same mind.

They have their own way of running their family, business or surname (reputation): Benevento is more interested in long-term and sustainable development than shorter and faster ones.

This is true for many of the businesses they invest in.

Some require connections and power as a ladder, while others require real vision.

As of now.

They haven't made a mistake yet.

"The executive officer is back."

Malcolm said suddenly.

Greg was not surprised. He lowered his head to read another page of text and muttered, "Well... I know..."

He drew out a long tune, spent several minutes turning a page, and then raised his eyes slightly.

"Are you confused?"

Malcolm indeed.

"I thought the Maelstrom..."

"Did they really think they would kill the Inquisition's executors... including Gao Huan? Just for a dispensable blasphemer?"

Gleick was right when he called Darwin a 'dispensable' blasphemer.

Because his mission has ended.

Kill or not, the impact he caused is profound and irreversible.

It's just the 'dignity' of the Holy Cross. Those 'saints on earth' who act on behalf of God do not allow a lowly person to insult their God... or insult them.

Who knows, there is always one.

“They’re looking for the Messiah.”

Greg sighed, put the book turner down completely, and propped his chin up with his interlaced fingers.

Malcolm frowned. "I don't think that's true, sir."

The prophecy about the 'Messiah' may be a complete hoax - Malcolm believes the latter. The so-called 'Dawn of the Extraordinary'...

It doesn't sound realistic anyway.

"You have to believe it, Malcolm. Otherwise, we can't explain why we sent out a "herd" that could cause a disaster, but still let the ship sail smoothly into the harbor."

Greg looked indifferent.

Given his last name, he certainly knew what happened at sea and why the Inquisition suddenly launched a "revenge".

He also knew how much damage had been suffered by the Noti Golden Lamp, the Great Whirlpool, and those who secretly did business with the Great Whirlpool - and how long this loss would last.

Malcolm was silent for a moment, then nodded helplessly.

Although, the expression on his face showed that he did not agree with what Greg Benevento said - there was no need for superficial respect between them.

"It was just a test, but the result was not satisfactory."

Greck said.

"I don't know who made the deal with the Eighth Ring. They wanted to find out what Enid Jutia saw in that mirror—something about the Messiah prophecy, that makes sense."

Malcolm's brows furrowed even more tightly, and there was a hint of ferocity in his eyes.

"To trust a talking mirror... I have never seen anything more foolish."

Like a thawed ice, Greg looked at his guardian and smiled, "I agree with you. Unfortunately, none of us can convince those 'big guys'."

Malcolm was dissatisfied: "You are the real big shot."

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"Maybe."

Greg slowly smoothed the corners of his mouth.

"Our 'Fearless of Life and Death' Judge, Her Excellency Enid Jutia, takes great care of her beautiful little bird. She pays too much attention to him - this is the second time she has paid so much attention to someone since Keshihai left..."

“No, it’s more than just attention.”

Greg said indifferently, "I found myself a little lover."

Malcolm showed disdain: "Woman."

"Benevento has come this far because we don't underestimate anyone, whether it's a man or a woman. Malcolm, you embarked on the mysterious path before me, and I thought you... should understand this better."

Malcolm bowed his head in silence.

"It was a boring test, but it was necessary - because this unknown 'stranger' eliminated a wrong answer for those of us who believed in the prophecy."

Greg's voice finally rose.

Who is the Messiah?

Who wants to do something with it.

Good and bad.

Crazy.

Everything is unknown.

How to identify this truly sacred great man who opened the door to a new era, only those who faced the "mirror" back then know clearly -

Enid's behavior was not normal.

She really cares about her little lover...

Is she in love with him?

Who would have believed that Enid Jutia would fall in love with a young man whose only feature was his face?

unless…

Unless he has some secret.

"Now it's good."

Greg spread his hands: "We can almost be sure that Roland Collins is really just a man who relies on his looks - and our cold and terrifying Lady Enid Jutia is just a poor woman trapped in the quagmire of love..."

If Roland Collins's identity is related to the Messiah, he may even be the 'Great One' himself.

Enid Jutia would not have left something on him that could save his life - even if she didn't, she should have sent an executive officer who could really do something on the ocean.

At least, before the inevitable disaster...

She has to make some moves.

A little action.

But the reality is.

She didn't.

Nothing at all.

When the disaster struck, she was attending a private royal salon.