The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1070 Ch.1069 A Joke
Deloz was relieved not to hear any arguing at her sister's house. Especially after Roland announced the 'leaving the quota,' she didn't see the ladies and gentlemen rushing to belittle, threaten, and insult each other—this brought her a sigh of relief.

But what she said next made her less happy.

"Personal suggestion."

Roland put the cigar back in the box and turned around.

“My personal suggestion is that the men come with me first. Our destination is the Western District. You can stop by the government or police station on the way. If you have some status, wouldn't it be easy to get them to send soldiers to rescue us?”

Roland made it very clear: prostitutes have no social 'status' and are insignificant. But these gentlemen are different—those who can come to the red-light district and frequent the expensive "House of Fonseca" are certainly not short of gold pounds.

These people may have extraordinary status, or they may have just become 'rich'—at the very least, they are better off than prostitutes, aren't they?

What they say carries at least some weight.

A perfectly legitimate reason.

Deloz's heart suddenly ignited—what would it be like if the legitimate reason were presented in reverse?

If these distinguished gentlemen remain on Flower Street, the government or the oversight body will have a 'reason' to come to their rescue.

But if these people escaped danger with them, leaving only the prostitutes behind...

Who will take care of these girls?

Omg.

Roland.

How could he, how could he—

How could he say something like that with such a calm face...? I knew it! Roland Collins, you bastard!
He was angry for less than three seconds.

When Deloz caught a faint smile on someone's lips, she was completely...

Angrier.

The benefactor is above.

Why does he always have to make those not-so-humorous jokes at life-or-death moments?!
This is not funny at all!!

Deloz glared angrily at the man by the liquor cabinet, while the ladies and gentlemen mistakenly thought that Deloz Fonseca was standing up for them.

of course not.

“Miss Fonseca, you and your sister share the same heart, as clear and pure as a jewel,” Groen couldn’t help but sigh. First, Gilles Fonseca protected them. Now, her sister was planning to do the same.

"But I must say, emotions are emotions, but they can never interfere with the world we live in—five people, sir, may I ask one more question: is that the limit?"

Roland leaned against the creaking wine cabinet and gave a soft reply.

“I can only protect five people at most… If you want to go out and feed the rats, you don’t have to drag the others into danger.”

Groen sighed deeply.

Then.

Five…

He turned around and looked at the anxious faces around him.

Margaret spoke first.

"Deloz! We've watched you grow up since you were little!"

These words added a strange liveliness to the serious atmosphere—Margaret, Miss Daisy, was only fourteen or fifteen years old.

She's even about the same age as Delos.

"Shut your mouth!" Proll was about to grab Margaret's ear again, but the girl ducked away and went behind Groen.

The latter affectionately pulled the person into his arms.

They can't decide.

Roland then offered his advice once again: "I believe that noble souls should come first, followed by prostitutes. Ladies, I am not a shameless man, nor am I willing to sacrifice women's lives for the sake of men's survival—but let's be frank."

he said loudly.

“You have almost no parents, or even relatives. Your contributions to society are not as great as those of you gentlemen—by that logic, shouldn’t I be the one to take you away first? Perhaps you should tell me about your respective ‘status’?”

No one speaks.

Because their identities were already clear to each other before Roland arrived.

Prol was somewhat moved.

indeed so.

As Roland said, these men are different from them. They have families, children, and perhaps even wives. They possess vast wealth, and many people depend on them for survival—while the girls have nothing. In terms of 'value,' this is indeed true.

if…

According to this Mr. Golden Eyes, if they were lucky enough, they would be able to wait for the soldiers they had found—Pror believed that once these men were out of danger, they would surely run after their lovers…

She absolutely believed that.

Then...

Suddenly, Deloz spoke, breaking the silence.

"But the government won't agree."

She swept her gaze across the ignorant women and said coldly, "This is a disaster that will engulf the entire city of London. Don't you understand what 'the entire city of London' means? If they leave, do you think the police will send squads of detectives to their deaths over five prostitutes?"

She spoke with difficulty, each word as painstakingly as when her older sister taught her to recognize characters in books.

“I’m not going to discuss whether you’re faithful or keep your promises,” she said, looking at the men one by one, “but we have to consider the thoughts of the police, the government, and whatever other organizations—whoever they are, are you confident you can convince them to send soldiers to rescue five prostitutes?”

These words truly cut to the bone.

“Roland is right, but I think you should focus more on the point that ‘those who stay here should ideally be valuable’…”

Deloz, however, turned his back under the guise of 'anger,' and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

and many more.

Something's wrong...

How did she start indulging in Roland's antics?

The gray-haired girl, who stood quietly with her arms crossed, glanced at her.

"...In the end, I still can't accept a woman sacrificing herself for me. Whatever the reason, gentlemen." The young gentleman shook his head, gently rubbing Sita's cheek with his thumb, releasing his hand as the woman's tears crept up his fingernails.

"We might be lucky enough to wait for rescue."

The men remained silent.

gradually.

A mournful melody, like that of a violin, rose from the living room.

The girls pleaded with Roland, and then with the men to leave first; the men, on the other hand, looked grim, either holding the women in their arms tightly or constantly rubbing their hands together.

tension.

disturbed.

fear.

When faced with a choice between life and death, no one can truly be 'fearless'.

But the choice still needs to be made.

"Let's stay here."

Groen was the last to make a choice—while the other men kept comforting their girls, he stood there staring bitterly at the tips of his shoes.

He was older and, of course, knew the heavy price he would have to pay for acting impulsively.

but…

There are some choices that people can't always choose the best one for.

Too hard.

Margaret's eyes widened suddenly.

She was initially overjoyed, but that joy was quickly shattered by the ensuing pain. The teenage girl, having grasped the concept of 'death' in a single day, was naturally terrified and forced to choose between life and death—the choice she most desired.

But when her lover, who had been supporting her, turned and walked down another fork in the road, she began to feel uneasy and hesitant.

She knew the easiest way was to remain silent, silently agree, let everything happen naturally, and then escape.

This isn't despicable; she's just a woman.

but…

But Margaret didn't know what was wrong with her.

Looking at Groen, the girl felt as if all her strength had left her body.

She's not really heartless.

(End of this chapter)