The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1039 (Ch.1038) Temporary Hospital
No one knew what Roland had just 'sense'—not even the wrench.

It may be able to 'see', but it will not share the same 'fear' as Roland.

When Sindel grabbed Roland's shoulder and pulled him out from the corner, Deloz was surprised to find that in just a few seconds, his forehead was already soaked with sweat.

As the two girls listened to the still-frightened man's description, their expressions grew increasingly strange: "...What's there to be afraid of about roses?"

Roland lowered his head and accepted the handkerchief that Sandel offered.

he…

He had never felt such 'fear' of anything before in his life—the emotions that surged forth seemed no longer under his control as the master of his body and soul.

This feels bad.
-
I shouldn't have underestimated this curse...

"What kind of fool would be afraid of roses? Haha!"
-
I didn't say 'haha'.

"I have."

Roland felt nauseous and broke out in a cold sweat. The physical fear felt like a hand trying to squeeze his breakfast out, constantly kneading his internal organs.

but…

He couldn't miss the ring raising ceremony.
-
This curse is too troublesome, wrench.
-
I need to think of a solution.

"You could just say: 'Curses are such a hassle! Beautiful and strong Wrench Lady! Please! Help me think of a solution!'"
-
You don't seem to dislike the name anymore.

"I******"

After the shrewish wrench conjured a burning rose in his sight, Mr. Collins, who deserved his fate, finally vomited it out.

…………

……

Gilles Fonseca is on Flower Street, while Pugh Collins and Jam Jones are on the West End.

Although the distance isn't far, every step in London now is fraught with danger.

—Because when the church brings disaster, other places naturally cannot escape it.

Apart from the executives who have been working hard against the wall recently, most citizens would not have expected that one day something deadly would emerge from the wall—regardless of whether its skin is slightly dark or fair; whether it is a local, a traveler, a merchant, or a minor official.

These 'little hyenas,' which seem to track people by nose or ear, swarm through the streets and alleys in the most undignified yet most efficient way, continuing their indiscriminate killing spree.

Some households that had rats infested their homes escaped into the streets and were completely devoured; others that had locked their doors and windows with boards and iron pins found rats popping out of their homes and were also completely devoured.

The mice, with their discerning little mouths, would specifically target the gaps between the ribs, making the victim's chest bulge. Or they'd grab onto the ankles and calves, climbing up from behind to into the belly, eating from back to front—

Now, regardless of whether they are despicable or wicked, kind or noble, every citizen who is scratching and howling like a madman has the same beautiful gray velvet vest.

"Kingsley! They're everywhere!"

The girl, running wildly through the makeshift passageway, kept knocking over barrels, wooden frames, and anything else that could block her way. She followed closely behind Kingsley, clutching a torch, with Edward Snow, his two fellow students, and Williams Jenner, whom they were helping to stagger forward, ahead of her.

The swarm of rats swept across the land like a highly concentrated acid, leaving behind a trail of teeth-grinding corrosive sounds.

Compared to the rat infestation in Roland's area, the disaster that Florence witnessed was more 'real'—these rats were not running around aimlessly, but were being manipulated and purposefully swayed left and right.

call.

The woman waved the torch, leaving a long, crimson shadow, and the rats behind her huddled in fear.

In just a split second, they closed in again.

"come on in!"

Suddenly, a wooden door on one side of the passageway opened, and a fluffy head peeked out.

It's Mr. Layton.

"quick!"

He waved to them.

The well-trained young soldiers made way, and only after the doctors, driven away by the swarm of rats, entered the house did they slam the door shut. The safety was only temporary.

"Little Layton? This child is alive?" the detective exclaimed in surprise.

Florence glared at Kingsley.

This person will never speak properly.

She handed the torch to Kingsley, knelt down, and pulled the boy into her arms, sniffing his scent—the plague causes many swollen, pus-filled cysts to form, and in the absence of time and resources, doctors naturally devised a simple method of identification.

Even if the abscess is inside the body, the patient will have an indescribable, faint putrid smell.

"Miss?"

"You've been hiding, haven't you, little soldier?" There was no stench.

Florence breathed a sigh of relief.

Although Little Layton has some mental issues…

Fate still smiled upon him.

"Watch your words, woman. This is merely a tactical maneuver—for the sake of the Empire, personal dignity is of little importance..."

When he heard Florence mention 'hide' and 'small,' he immediately became serious, pushed her away, and spoke in a cold voice.

She even puffed out her chest.

Many doctors in the room laughed.

They had all heard that their advisor had found a new student—perhaps the last one.

And the assessment criteria…

This is the child.

Mr. Leighton, abandoned at the gates of the Royal College of Medicine at Beatrice, is, as everyone knows, a poor child trapped in his own twisted fantasies.

"Well done, Florence."

A young doctor offered his praise. They hurriedly moved the heavy objects in the room to the door and tied long ropes with sheets and curtains—the makeshift ward wasn't tall, only two stories high, and with someone to help, even an elderly person like Williams Jenner could manage.

They couldn't abandon their mentor and run away alone.

Incidentally, the entire escape plan, from the route to the method, and from the method to the next destination, was all planned by this temporary 'caregiver', Mr. Kingsley.

Most doctors don't particularly like the profession of 'detective,' but since the plague began, Kingsley's actions have earned their respect.

This is a brave and absolutely upright man.

He also has a good brain.

"Without you, we probably wouldn't have discovered that these scum are afraid of fire."

Kingsley, head bowed, wrapped strips of cloth around the wooden sticks supporting the window: "It's only a matter of time."

Animals are afraid of fire.

Even if these rats are being manipulated...

“His name is Green Cohen.” Edward Snow, having settled his mentor, joined the work of ‘wrapping bandages,’ explaining as he worked: “When I realized something was wrong, many patients in the ward simultaneously showed signs of ruptured cysts—I don’t belong to that world, but I can try to understand it in my own way…”

Edward Snow turned to look at his silent mentor.

"Like tincture of opium."

He said.

"And the explosives whose fuse has reached its end."

"Some 'power' simultaneously bewitched these infected people—'it' selected them. Some died, some survived, gaining control of the rat horde… I guarantee these people, like those who have long used opium tincture, have long lost their minds…"

(End of this chapter)