The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1112 Secret Communication
Victoria had long wanted to pass on something 'useless' to someone—Enid Jutia, though eccentric, who doesn't dream of immortality?
The ritual brought from the Far East could definitely fetch a good price from this woman.

For the next half hour, the two ladies, who had known each other for many years, began to argue heatedly around the goose-neck green teapot on the round table.

Until the maid knocked on the door.

The messenger reported to his king that a cultist had thrown a woman out of the courthouse in full view of everyone—and that several clerks had already gone after her.

Victoria is clearly very concerned about the recent turmoil and the courtroom disputes.

"They were just observing...and recording..."

The fat queen was a little embarrassed.

She didn't want to show any interest in the matter in front of Enid—which explains her silence.

“You’re so stupid it’s laughable, Victoria.”

Enid couldn't be bothered to get angry with this woman. Many times, her responses were like those of an underdeveloped baby with a brain crushed by his mother's trap—this fat pig not only lacked political wisdom, but didn't even possess 'wisdom'.

She couldn't find the word in her head.

I'm afraid that if a cricket crawls inside, it will come out several sizes bigger.

"The court has clearly sided with the royal family, Victoria. As the master and leader of the army, how can you not stand up for your soldiers?"

Enid's words made Victoria even more speechless.

She coughed twice, raised her almost invisible neck (perhaps by the lines on it), and tried to use complicated and obscure words to evade the question.

she says.

She simply wanted to set an example. The ruler of a country, the king, must be fair and honest.

Moreover, when faced with disputes between sectarian groups and beliefs…

There was nothing she could do anyway.

"Powerless? I think you just want to sit in your chair and watch the ritual participants fight amongst themselves. Victoria, no one knows you better than me—you're a mortal, a mortal incapable of perceiving the 'mystery,' a mortal who can never touch that door..."

"Do you think that by condoning sectarian conflict and letting them weaken each other, you can condescendingly observe and judge these ants who are 'not superior to you'..."

"You waver between political parties and religious sects, cunningly choosing the side that benefits you, or a particular offer..."

"Do you really think they're fools? Or is there someone else who's foolish?"

She glanced at Victoria's increasingly protruding belly, which resembled a mosquito saturated with blood, making her want to swat it.

"I really shouldn't have brought you along—"

"Enid!" The Queen's fleshy frame trembled with shock, almost causing her to spring up from the poor chair she had so many times regretted coming to the palace to serve those noble backsides: "We've got a deal! No one is allowed to say a word!!"

She looked around as if the palace did not belong to her, and that she was surrounded by pairs of greedy eyes.

"...We agreed not to talk about this."

“If you had listened to me and activated the Magna Carta sooner, you wouldn’t be their enemy anymore… Victoria, do you still need divination? Your fate was already sealed,” Enid sneered, arms crossed. “You don’t really think that thing can make anyone kneel down, do you?”

Victoria remained silent.

She could never heed Enid's 'advice'—she had to save that single-shot musket for the very last moment…

perhaps.

Keep it forever.

“You’d better not interfere with the ‘Holy Grail’ ritual… I advise you,” Enid gave her a cold look, put down her teacup, stood up, and prepared to leave: “Don’t try to use it to satisfy foolish desires—you already have enough.”

Victoria finally couldn't hold back any longer. She gripped the armrest, her non-existent neck stiffening: "'Enough'? What do I have? A palace that doesn't belong to me? A nominal rule over a country? Hypocritical flattery? Two-faced courtiers? Chattering, bird-like members of parliament? 'Helpers' each with their own ulterior motives?"

“You really should go see the East End, Victoria. You’re much luckier than many people—do you know what’s truly despairing?” Enid whispered. “It’s despairing that neither of you understands why fate, the world, has treated you this way…”

The flames consumed the iris-colored robe.

The palace returned to silence... or perhaps.

Mixed with some angry, heavy breathing and the sound of glass shattering.

"Are you planning to just live like this with your little lover?"

Courtroom.

A treasure trove that has never been set foot in by anyone other than the presiding judge.

—Incidentally, Roland, Fernandez, and the other executives had all privately discussed, fantasized, and speculated about what that 'treasure trove' might look like:
They generally believe that a treasure vault should look like a treasure vault.

For example, dangerous mechanisms, strict security rituals, and treasure boxes that require incantations and high prices to open...

some type of?
There may be even more cruel and targeted traps and tests.

of course.

The executives are all roughnecks.

When this bunch of scoundrels get together and chatter with even more scoundrels, it's easy for the conversation to go off-topic.

For example, they say that there might be a woman embedded in the wall in the treasure vault.

Before the true secret vault, there was a burning flame.

Intruders who enter the ritual cannot sense the mystery, nor can they mobilize any power—so…

Think of a way.

Intruders.

Quick, think of a way to put out the fire.

When this topic came up, the executives exchanged glances.

then.

They chuckled knowingly.

Lady Blade laughed the loudest and most heartily.

They first laughed at the vulgar allusions, and then began to tease Roland, saying that he was a new recruit who did not understand the true power of the Father of All Things—He could hide fire in the mountains and erupt at the right time to destroy the world, and He could also freeze water under the ice and stir up waves when He was angry.

At that time, Roland couldn't understand it.

At that time.

"I guarantee that if you took this idea to Red Street, you'd get a good price for it."

all in all.

Apart from the past presiding judges, no one knows exactly what the treasury (outer layer) and the secret vault (inner layer) of the courthouse look like.

In reality...

It's heartwarmingly scary.

Kashgar was unusually not wearing his wide-brimmed hat; he sat cross-legged on a low chair, swirling a glass of amber-colored whiskey in his hand.

"Who are you going to live with?" Brushing the flames off her body, Enid glanced at the open bottle of wine on the round table: "That's for Roland."

Keshhai grinned, raised his glass, and took another sip.

"I'm saying, are you planning to live like this with your little lover until you leave your position as presiding judge? How many more years do you plan to stay?"

This "serious criminal," wanted by various religious sects, is sitting openly in the most dangerous secret vault of the courtroom.

Drinking the judge's wine.

(End of this chapter)