The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 116 Ch.115 Don’t make friends with cultists
Old dog and duck.

Today it is still bustling with people.

Beer foam, spit, smoke and bad words.

The men who were leaving work wore felt hats, threw their gloves on the table, and shouted out their orders. When Roland and Fernandez pushed the door open, many whistles rang out.

"Hey! Collins!"

"You've become more beautiful recently!"

"When can I see you on Flower Street? Hahahaha!"

"Damn it, don't say such things to Roland."

There were constant jokes, some were excessive, some were not.

Roland tapped his cane, his unfocused eyes staring at the floor in front of him, smiling all the way.

They sat in the innermost, quietest corner.

"I have to find time to teach these foul-mouthed bastards a lesson."

Fernandez took off his scarf, called Ana over, and asked him where those unfamiliar faces with dirty words came from.

"They just came here, sir." The boss's wife, wearing a white apron, smiled and said, "Don't bother with these people..." She poured water for Roland and looked at him:
"You grow up so fast, Roland."

"When I first came here a while ago, it wasn't this high."

Someone whistled again.

Anna put her hands on her hips and turned around to glare at them.

"Either go back to your factory or shut up!"

A few boys who looked very young smiled and waved their hands.

"Child, you have already embarked on the right path. Don't bother with these people anymore. When you grow up, maybe I won't see you here anymore..." She wrote down what Fernandez ordered and wanted to reach out to touch Roland's head, but she retracted her hand in mid-air and wiped it on her thigh awkwardly.

"I'll give you some freshly fried French fries."

He walked away in a hurry with his head down.

Fernandez had a sullen look on his face until Anna left.

——In the beginning, these people were more careful with their words because of Roland and Fernandez's identities: policemen, because of old Collins, and because they shared the same suffering.

But as time went by, Roland began to look "decent" every day - wearing clean leather boots or shiny button shoes, a top hat instead of a felt hat, fewer sweat stains on his collar, and riding a carriage home every day instead of walking through mud and feces...

Things gradually took a turn for the worse.

These regulars gradually became familiar with Roland.

Fear has also changed.

'What's so great about him?'

"We are neighbors, living nearby."

"He's just a handsome blind man... I heard that he visits rich women's homes every day..."

"He shouldn't dare to do anything to us. We haven't broken any law."

'How much do you think he gets a week? Twelve? Fifteen? A pound or two? He's got a pretty good look, right?'

'He made so much money, but he never bought us a drink... Old Collins's stuff is never cheap. Both Collins are just as greedy.'

'Isn't that the way people are?'

Fools always have a kind of illusion peculiar to fools.

—'What can he do to me?'

So here, it wasn't the eyes that caused Roland trouble.

——This slightly feminine face, which often reminds people of his romantic affairs with some noble ladies, cannot bring him "friendliness".

At least, some people just 'like' it on the surface.

And in the East End, most people don't maintain 'surface respectability'.

"It's all the same, Fernandez."

Roland took a sip of water.

It's been cold and windy lately, and his lips are dry and cracked. "When I'm with those masters, they just don't say it. I can feel the disgust in their words. If I was always troubled by these things, I would not have lived to this age."

Fernandez glanced at Roland.

He had not experienced what Roland had experienced, and he did not dare to imagine what kind of hell he had gone through, which led to the growth of a heart that emitted a long metallic sound with every beat under his seemingly 'weak' body.

"As long as they don't hurt or insult the people I love, it doesn't matter, Fernandez. I think they are all quite talkative. Before, there were people buying medicine who were muttering about the Queen's private life in the pharmacy." Roland didn't care.

Fernandez laughed twice: "Indeed, the Queen did a good job."

"Yes."

The chicken and butter biscuits were served quickly.

Perhaps Roland and Fernandez did not respond to the teasing. They were sensible and could tell that someone was in a bad mood today and did not want to respond, so they chose to shut up and talk about other things.

And that table of young people, that table of unfamiliar faces.

Not that sensible.

They began to push their limits.

"…Such a handsome man, old Collins is so lucky."

"I promise I won't hear any hint in your words."

"Hey! Collins! I'll go to the drugstore tomorrow after work. For two cents, how long can you chat with me? Can you wear a long skirt?"

Fernandez put down the fries and was about to get up.

Roland held his hand.

"Roland?"

Roland thought about it.

There was a moment of silence, then a sigh.

He still stood up with his cane.

'I can't come here anymore.'

The pub fell into complete silence for a moment.

Everyone stared at the black-haired young man, watching him stand up, leaning on his cane, taking slow steps, and stopping precisely in front of the young people at the table. Fernandez followed with a gloomy face, like a huge shadow behind Roland.

“…It’s just a joke, Collins.” The oldest boy who spoke didn’t look that old, with a circle of blue stubble on his lips and a playful smile on his face.

He held the cigarette in his mouth, blew a puff of smoke towards Roland, and then stretched out his hand.

"Let's be friends. I'm Thomas Abbott."

Roland smiled faintly and did not move.

"Hey, look at me! I forgot you were blind!"

The boy named Ai Bo looked around at his friends. Under the mischievous gazes, he forcibly grasped Roland's hand hanging by his leg and shook it vigorously:

"Make a friend, Collins."

"I really want to ask you, why do you do this? It's totally wrong!"

"With a face like yours, you can either find a lady and live a life of luxury, or go to Noti Golden Lamp and become a 'lady' - the waiting list for reservations will last from winter to summer!"

The young people at the table laughed.

This laughter made Thomas Abbott very proud.

Let’s be honest, humans are amazing and complex.

The more experienced you are, the more you will believe that there are always a group of people in life whose behavior is purposeless, illogical, and has nothing to do with interests or likes and dislikes. They appear around you just to disgust you - and when you understand their motives, you will only have one thought:
The brains of these people are only one-tenth the age of their bodies.

"Hahahaha!"

"Collins, sit down and have a drink!"

"We just moved here. Where is your pharmacy?"

"You and that old man, do you two sleep together every day?"

Seeing that Roland remained silent, his malicious teasing became even more outrageous.

The laughter from the people around him gave him courage, making him feel like a protagonist, like the only shining solo dancer on the stage.

Noti Golden Lamp.

Old Collins.

lady.

Roland tilted his head.

Ai Bo smacked his lips a few times and wanted to say something, but he felt his wrist being gripped tightly.

bang——

There was a huge bang.

The world is spinning.

He was flipped over.

Then, a sharp dagger pierced through from top to bottom, nailing his palm firmly to the table.

thump.

There was silence for a few seconds.

The painful howls echoed throughout the tavern!
"hand--!!"

“My hand——!!”

"what…"

"mine…"

"you this--"

The other young men who were smoking cigarettes immediately put down their glasses. Before they could stand up, they saw a huge black shadow approaching them.

A huge fist hit his face.

Chairs were overturned, and those who tried to resist were knocked down, and the whole place was in chaos.

Fernandez punched each one of them, and kicked the struggling man on the ground with a boot, which made him fall asleep completely. Then, he picked up the struggling man in his hand and spat on the face of the sleeping man on the ground: "It seems that someone has had enough of living."

Roland said nothing. He gently held the handle of the dagger with his right hand, picked up the cane with his left hand, and knocked it on the ground a few times.

thump—

dong dong.

Like a loud horn, it quieted the entire tavern.

The deep golden eyes were colder than the winter wind at night.

“…I smell cultists, Fernandez.”

When Fernandez heard the word "cultists", he looked at them with a hint of mockery.

This guy...

I've been in a really bad mood recently.

Roland sniffed and said seriously, "You smell strongly of a cultist. I suspect that you, or your parents, or siblings, have had contact with cultists recently."

The people around them all hid far away.

In the huge tavern, only Roland's area was empty.

He gently spun the dagger, causing someone who was ignorant of the world to wail, and muttered to himself: "You will be taken to the court of justice, along with your parents, brothers, sisters, and even friends..."

"Or do you want to be 'judged' here?"

Click.

Just as he finished speaking, the sharp blade, covered with flesh and blood, was twisted ninety degrees.

The scream was almost audible to those outside the tavern.

"If you resist, you are a cultist."

Roland loosened his hand, lifted his coat, and revealed the gun at his waist. His light voice resounded in the tavern:

"Mr. Abbott."

"I never make friends with cultists."

(End of this chapter)