The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1100 (Ch.1099) - Proceed to
When Theodore arrived at the courtroom.

Before he could even get off the carriage, he saw a dark mass of priests in their robes—the priests rarely appeared in large groups, and even with the recent rat infestation, they were scattered in small teams throughout London’s various districts and streets.

not to mention.

Theodore is a 'country bumpkin'.

This scene is absolutely terrifying.

"Mr. Roland Collins?"

He felt he was no longer worthy to be called 'Roland,' and he also felt that calling him Collins without adding 'Mr.' on this occasion would displease many people—as soon as he stepped down from the carriage, quite a few eyes were already fixed on him.

"Mr. Roland Collins!"

They shed blood for God, and at the same time, they shed blood for their brothers.

This is the answer given by the executive.

Peter Heller, the Blade, and the other executors in the courtroom gave their answers. No one rejected Roland—and of course, Roland made no secret of Gilles Fonseca's identity.

prostitute?

They didn't care at all about Gilles Fonseca's identity, or even about her own, her sister Delos's, and Roland's relationship...

They didn't even care about Roland, the handsome man who was rumored to have a somewhat ambiguous relationship with Enid Juilliard.

—Because you can't expect an adjutant who hasn't even been there for a year to be intimately connected with everyone in the courtroom.

Many people who didn't usually interact with Roland readily responded to his call.

Including a crow that still doesn't like to bathe even in the summer.

“There’s nothing shameful about being a prostitute. Recently, a baron married a girl from the garden.”

A raven shrouded in black robes stood menacingly behind, its very words unpleasant to hear:
"At least they have a lot of 'tricks'."

The woman with a cigarette dangling from her lips glanced at him: "Come on, Crow. He's not even here."

Blade, Raven, Peter Heller…

And there's York Jr.

They stood together, watching the other squads surrounding Roland in the distance, and the blond man who had just jumped off the carriage.

"I heard from Roland that Fernandez doesn't seem too willing?" Blade muttered.

“We shouldn’t use ‘reluctantly’,” Heller chuckled, fastening his hat as he spoke. “You should know as well as Raven who Devonson is.”

The crow, seizing its chance, sneered, "Maybe the women on Red Street have national affairs printed on their sheets. Our Devinson, when it comes to crucial moments, can be colder than anyone else…maybe even 'Holy Flame' is like that."

“I advise you to keep your mouth shut, Crow.” Blade glanced at him sideways.

None of the four people present possessed the "Holy Flame".

But their presiding judge is...

“Our friend isn’t clever enough, and he also has a stubbornness that can only be combined with intelligence—I mean, persistence.” Peter Heller clearly saw this better than Fernandez. In this matter, the purpose of the vortex is not important.

Regardless of whether it's a conspiracy or a scheme.

What Roland did was the best solution—although he didn't think Roland Collins would think in that direction.

"The bigger this matter gets, the better."

Peter Heller said. He bent down to inspect little York's equipment, picking it up one by one and looking through it before handing it back to his apprentice a few seconds later.

then.

He yawned again.

The old gentleman had quite a few "elegant battles" at the gambling table yesterday—he called it a clash of wits and courage.

I was originally going to go to the East District to exterminate rats today (and take the opportunity to find a hotel to sleep for half an afternoon).

"As long as the Queen knows... I'm afraid even if the Great Vortex finds twenty more 'witnesses,' it won't make a difference... The power of filth? Ha... Who wouldn't want to take a stroll in the red-light district?"

“Like you,” the crow said mercilessly.

The entire courtroom knew that Peter Heller's hobby was gambling.

“Dwinson really didn’t waste his money; it seems even the benefactor’s swords can’t escape the trend…” Raven sarcastically remarked that these executives were ‘bought off’ by Fernandez on a regular basis—you never underestimate the number of friends someone has when they have a friend who loves to treat others.

Especially in the red-light district.

Executive officers are much more popular than patrol officers or detectives from the Inspectorate.

"That's probably wrong, Raven."

Peter Heller looked into the distance and said in a gentle voice:

"They won't get into trouble because of Gilles Fonseca, nor because of Roland Collins—even if…"

“No ‘even if’, watch your legs.” Blade gestured to the crow while biting the cigarette between his lips.

That was Roland's back view.

"Don't you think he... resembles someone?" The executives wouldn't abandon their work to cause trouble at the Maelstrom because of Roland Collins or some prostitute—not because of Roland, but because of Roland's 'actions' in this matter...

Not a single bit of leniency.

The crow immediately understood.

"Keshihai".

The voice came from behind him.

Blade was extremely surprised: "Benefactor...you should be in the hospital, in a hospital bed!"

The gray-haired girl's pale face looked like a porcelain doll that would shatter at the slightest touch in the sunlight.

In some ways, Senna's injuries were much more serious than Fernandez's—but fortunately, she didn't hurt her leg.

Oh.

There was also a bishop grandfather.

"Saints always find a way."

Sender coughed a few times, bowed to the others in turn, and stood beside the blade.

“It’s just that my hands aren’t strong enough yet, Mr. Raven,” Shandel said with a smile when he saw Raven staring at him. “I think that when brothers and sisters are traveling together, they won’t need my ‘strength’ anyway.”

The crows don't care about Xander.

"Keshihai?"

He wasn't stupid; he naturally understood what Xander meant.

"You think so too?" He looked at the blade and Heller.

“Nobody compares Roland to Kashhai, Raven,” Peter Heller shook his head. “It’s just… the Inquisition needs a new one, even if it’s Roland Kashhai Collins. I remember you didn’t quite like some of Lady Judith’s… methods? Raven, isn’t that what you’re looking for?”

Heller's words sounded somewhat deliberate.

How could he not know about Roland's feud with the ravens?

Choose.

Choose between two people you dislike.

“She’s never used any ‘methods’,” Raven sneered, glancing at the man whose silhouette was etched in the sunlight. “Her little male favorites are the same… I wouldn’t go around causing trouble with a woman…”

Then what are you doing here?

That's the expression on the blade.

"Honestly, he's far superior to Keshhai—especially in appearance. Heller, you haven't seen how Keshhai looks now; he's aged almost as much as you..."

Peter Heller ignored the blade. On the topic of endless, unbridled banter…

His cleverness lay in never causing trouble for himself in front of his apprentices, especially those he couldn't afford to offend.

“Someone is already itching to speak to Roland, excuse me.” He led his apprentice toward Roland. The raven also snorted coldly, fanning its long robe as it hurried to an inconspicuous corner—the back of the line.

All that remained were the blade and the scimitar.

"You can't leave for even a moment, can you?" The woman crossed her arms and smiled, teasing the girl who was staring at Roland.

Sindel nodded without hesitation, his mouth uttering a sound, but his eyes never leaving Roland.

half an hour.

"The captain is furious. He has broken bones and can't get out of bed, and he's worried that Roland will make things worse..."

The blade furrowed slightly.

Based on her understanding of Fernandez…

To be honest, Peter Heller's assessment of the bear was fairly fair: courageous and devout, but not wise enough, rigid and stubborn—she herself wholeheartedly agreed with old Heller's approach of 'taking the initiative first,' and Fernandez's 'patience' was rather foolish.

of course.

Such a person will certainly be liked by some people.

For example, those who keep talking about 'order'.

"It seems that Horn... or someone behind him, has designs on the Holy Grail."

The blade, with a cigarette dangling from its mouth, muttered to itself.

Because of her surname, Xander, and the fact that she herself had participated in the selection of saintesses, she didn't need to hide her sharp edge.

“I believe Lady Judea will always make the best choice,” Shandel said, unconcerned.

After she guessed a secret…

She no longer worried about that old woman, Enid Juilliard.

Sure enough, the other party suddenly left the courtroom in the last few days, as if they knew this would happen.

(End of this chapter)