The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1106 Ch.1105 Cultists!
The figure veiled in white was called out by Trek almost immediately.

"A serial killer! A skin-changing individual!"

Roland agreed with the first one, and the next one…

Isn't that a term for cult members?
"Who do you think you are?"

Roland's arrival immediately rekindled Trek's previously abandoned thoughts—this was a golden opportunity indeed.

"Cultists! Theodore Gabriel Thackeray! You really did make a deal with cultists in secret..."

Trek wasn't worried that the thugs at the "tea party" could cause him any trouble.

He had taken note of the cults that had recently become active in London.

Aside from the Brotherhood that rose to prominence during the rat plague, the earlier "Teapot Society" was more like a small, idle group of good-for-nothings who punished evil—the reason they were called "idle" was because they weren't "dedicated."

Instead of focusing on punishing evil and promoting good.

Sometimes I think about it and work on it for three to five days.

He then disappeared for half a month.

They'll reappear for another three to five days.

He disappeared for another half month.

This group had no objective, and their "ring" wasn't particularly high: at least based on what Trek had heard, none of them had actually reached the high ring.

The appearance of this 'white-veiled killer' was exactly what Trek wanted.

—Just label Theodore Gabriel Thackeray as a cultist…

"You shouldn't have come here."

Theodore knew perfectly well who the man in the closet was.

"You can't handle it yourself."

“I…I will…I can persuade Trek…and Lord Horn…” Theodore hesitated for a moment, “I also need to go back to the Great Vortex and ask…”

He still couldn't believe that the headless body in the crystal coffin belonged to Florian.

Maybe…

Horn owes him an explanation.

'You need to think more about yourself, Theodore, my dear. If life keeps haunting you, tormenting you, Theodore, you need to think about what's wrong with yourself—otherwise, why doesn't it torment others?'

You have to listen to me.

Absolutely correct.

Theodore believed he had indeed done many wrong things and should have stopped Florian before the ceremony began.

or.

They should have simply refused Florian's demands while they were trapped on Flower Street.

Everything would not have come to this irreversible point.

It is his responsibility.

He made a mistake, and failed to keep his promise to Mr. Westwick to 'protect Florian'...

"I need to go back to the vortex and explain."

He dared not call Roland by his name, nor did he know the man's 'code name' within his gang—Theodore rarely paid attention to such things.

He has a passion for animals.

For example, understanding the habits of different hunting dogs, the arrogant yet adorable behavior of cats, and the subtle differences among birds...

Since Mr. Westwick's death, he has been more interested in animals than people.

“'Explain clearly'... Oh dear.”

Roland sighed:

"You're one of us, so how can you explain yourself?"

Under Trek's knowing glare, Theodore cried out, "I'm not with you! You know that! I just want Ms. Fonseca to stop suffering—"

Trek didn't believe it.

He nervously flicked his fingers, and with a sickening squeaking sound, thick thorny vines, like a green python capable of swallowing an elephant, coiled around and crushed the fragile adobe wall.

It's as easy as tearing paper.

“You guys have absolutely no sense of humor.” Roland pressed down on his top hat, flipped over to avoid the rubble from the exploding wall, and snapped his fingers after landing.

Snapped.

The series of ear-piercing scraping sounds of chains echoed in the disbelief of the four people. Trek's thorny "field" seemed to have been slashed open by a hot knife.

The space was 'cut' apart.

"You might feel a little dizzy. Did you not eat too much tonight?"

He was talking to himself, not as if he were asking Theodore.

Theodore didn't have time to reply either.

Within the exploding ball of light, the woman wearing a ferocious hound mask grasped Fonseca and Theodore's wrists. "No need to wait, I have a way," Roland whispered.

Halida nodded.

Before Trek's 'Mad Dog' could land, another burst of light took the two of them away.

They disappeared.

From Trek's "field".

—Before tonight, if someone told Trek that if the problem wasn't solved through the collision of "fields," if it wasn't solved externally using the great arts of "secrets" or other "mystical arts," if it wasn't solved before the "field's" master's "secrets" were exhausted…

If someone only needs to snap their fingers.

That would tear open the "field" set up by the high-ring ritualists.

Trek must have thought he was drunk.

but…

When you sleep, the world will no longer eat people.

What else is impossible?

"...You are more valuable than that woman."

Roland: "Tell me more about it?"

Trek: ...

“We have plenty of time to talk, until I tear your legs off…”

Before he finished speaking, Trek took a heavy step forward!
The gnarled thorns surged forward like ocean waves!

"I don't think so."

The blurry shadow twisted its body at an incredible angle, narrowly avoiding the layers of green waves. It slipped through the thorny gaps, landing as lightly as a cat, with time to heal the corner that had been cut by the thorns.

Raise your hand.

Sparks flew from the muzzle of the gun.

boom--!
The bullet struck Trek in the shoulder. Strangely, Roland could only find the bullet hole, which was emitting black smoke, in the thorny vines.

"grafting".

The sixth-ring Forest Witch can transfer damage to the plants she cultivates.

"I suspect it must be poisonous?"

Before it could adjust its posture, cracking sounds came from all directions.

A group of mutated plant dolls completely ripped off the already fragile roof of the building—each of them was two or three Roland tall, and trees and unnamed vines and shrubs twisted into human shapes, scattered around the ruins, silently trapping their enemies.

"Sixth Ring Road, Fifth Ring Road, Fifth Ring Road."

A forest witch, two green knights.

"It seems your hyena owners value Theodore very much."

Roland braced himself with one hand, twisting and flipping over the sweeping branch arm like a spring, landing on the knee of a plant soldier. Grabbing its 'whiskers,' he flipped it onto his shoulder, bent his knees, and leaped, using the still partially collapsed wall as a springboard to change battlefields.

"Little flea..."

Trek smiled and waved. Soon, the vibrant "field" expanded in all directions once again.

How many times can you tear it?

“I could fight you all day long.” Roland dusted off his sleeves, pondering where to begin his attack…

and many more.

he…

Shouldn't he have let Halida turn back and take him away sooner?
Why would he be so foolish as to stay and fight against a few high-ranking players?

"I am on the surface, Roland. I cannot see what is happening in your soul."
-
It's strange that I chose to stay, Wrench.

"You've always been a strange person."

"It's too late, little flea."

Trek scoffed, "Followers of evil gods will never understand true greatness..."

The Green Knight's "forced maturation" can bring a target to 'maturity' in a short period of time—of course…

Including ideas.

And people can never deny their own thoughts... at least, the thoughts they perceive as their own.

Obvious.

The idea of ​​'staying to fight' has matured.

"You guys are really insidious," Roland said, scoffing.

"Wait until I tear your legs off, then we'll discuss this properly..."

(End of this chapter)