The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1179 Ch.1178 The Playful Coachman
Ilduss, Dragon Town, once a land of gold mines, is a 'disgrace' not counted in Cornwall's calculations.

The sharp, jagged fragments described by different people are pieced together to form a distorted and absurd pattern.

Theodore was very wary of this.

He told Rupert and Roland that wherever such 'cult beliefs' flourished, one could almost foresee how many bloody and sorrowful souls were sown in the soil. Whether Roland desired dragon wings or dragon bones, they should be extremely vigilant—

It's hard to expect people who live under the rule of a cult to be 'normal'...

Perhaps the welcome drink in an obscure tavern is laced with poison.

Rupert wholeheartedly agreed.

then.

As darkness fell, the train slowly pulled into the station.

The public horse station was a desolate pavilion.

Over time, the carriage driver, his horse frozen stiff like a dehydrated old grape, and his long-maned brother leaned against the hemp curtain under the pavilion. The whooshing sound of the wind revealed a face wrapped tightly in cloth.

The platform was desolate, and the wind howled.

Nothing else.

The only people who got off at this stop were Dave Lawrence, his servants, guards, and Roland's party.

A dozen or so people, and a horse-drawn carriage.

"...What did they do with the gold they dug up?" Theodore was dissatisfied with the place's 'misleading reputation'. To be honest, even as a 'wanted criminal,' this blond Thackeray had seen it all—being able to follow the former Holy Son Florian, he naturally wouldn't lack gold and silver.

“You can use ‘possible’ for everything, but not here, Mr. Thackeray.” The portly businessman and Rupert, who were present, were rare individuals who clearly and thoroughly understood how human society worked. The girl seemed unconvinced.

"Looks like we'll have to hike. Collins, how far do you plan to make me walk?"

“Benefactors above! How could I let a friend I just met suffer? Miss, sir, please allow me to show some decency, though it certainly can't compare to what you all do…” Dave Lawrence, ever the smooth talker, shoved aside the servants clinging to him and strode over to Roland, smiling and apologizing, “Oh dear, it's my fault for bringing these people…”

“Mr. Lawrence?” Theodore looked down at him and bowed slightly.

"I'm finally done, gentlemen. Hey! Coachman! Damn it... lazy donkey! In London, you wouldn't even get a crumb... Wake up!"

The servant bowed and scurried to the 'tent,' poked his finger into the hole and stirred it around a few times, then coughed heavily—it was clear he was imitating his master.

The driver wasn't buying it. He opened his half-closed triangular eyes, his mouth crooked and eyebrows slanted: "What?"

His accent was even stronger than the bacon that poor people ate.

The servant coughed twice more: "My master..."

"I'm freezing to death! Tom! Don't give me that high-pitched talk! I don't usually talk like that!"

The driver chuckled as he listened.

"You bad thing, your master whipped you. Now you know you'll never be the 'master,' right?"

The servant named Tom was so angry that he trembled and made the hole even bigger with his fingers.

“Go away! Take your ‘brother’ with you! We’re going to Gold Mine Town!” he shrieked, trying to regain his lost dignity with sarcasm.

The driver didn't care. He slowly rolled over, got off the cart, and patted his brother's neck.

The two tough guys are truly twins; even their casual glances are similar.

"Only four seats are allowed."

He hitched up the car, then strolled over to the two groups of people with his hands in his pockets, and said something indifferent.

"Ahem... We're going to Gold Mine Town."

Dave Lawrence tilted his head back, trying to make his chin and neck distinct.

The coachman said sarcastically, "Otherwise, my 'brother' would have to carry you back to London, right? Ildor Sinsther, since you're getting off at this stop, where else can you go?"

These words nearly choked the fat businessman to death—given his weight, the probability of him dying this way was probably not small.

“…I won’t stoop to the level of a country bumpkin,” the merchant muttered, turning his head. “Come on, Mr. Collins, you two Thackerays. Looks like we’ll have to take one…”

Since the carriage could only seat four people, Dave Lawrence's servants and guards had to walk all the way to town.

Harida should have done the same, but the maid, her face frozen, said to the coachman:
“I will not leave my master.” With Rose and Sandel gone, she had to protect Roland—though in every sense, Roland Collins was far superior to her…

This is the self-awareness of a personal servant.

“Oh, I won’t leave my ‘brother’ either, miss. Why don’t you—” The coachman wanted to take advantage of the rare opportunity to show off his humor and wit, but was coldly interrupted by Harida.

“I can drive a carriage. Either let me sit on the frame, or you get off and I'll drive.”

The coachman laughed angrily. This was the first time in all these years that he had ever seen someone 'steal a carriage'.

"you--"

He wanted to say, "What are you capable of?" but those silvery eyes became increasingly frightening as they met his gaze.

The driver regained his composure.

"...I won't be responsible if it falls."

…………

……

The loosely mounted bicycle swayed as it made its way to town.

There was only wilderness all around.

The greenery has withered and faded.

“This is a really nice place,” Rupert whispered to Theodore, tilting his head. “I think novelists are more deserving of the title than con artists…”

Theodore could follow Rupert's train of thought; he knew what she was talking about.

“Stories always have to portray the good side, miss. In reality, most of an explorer’s expeditions are tedious and boring... I think it’s enough to just record the exciting and turbulent parts. You can’t blame the novelist for that.”

Rupert pursed his lips: "Whom am I blaming? I just admire these gentlemen who make money by making things up..."

Theodore smiled and shook his head.

This girl just has a sharp tongue.

"...It seems the siblings have a good relationship, Mr. Collins. How long do you and your companion plan to stay in the mining town?"

Dave glanced at the two people across from him who were still whispering to each other, his voice gentle—of course he had common sense and knew that it was difficult for twins to have different hair colors…and at the same time, their facial features would be completely different.

But he didn't investigate further.

"Maybe half a day, maybe twenty days," Roland said. "And you? I think gold mining isn't easy; perhaps we need some professional methods..."

Dave blinked and said mysteriously, “Maybe even faster than you, young sir. I don’t need professional methods—if there’s still gold mining in a place, the closer someone is to the gold, the harder it is to hide their golden face… I’m very good at judging people; I can tell just by looking at them.”

Roland noticed that these businessmen seemed to like to show off how good they were at 'judging people'.

“Look at me,” he said, pointing to his face and turning to the side. “Is my face golden?”

Dave Lawrence laughed: "I bet you have a big business opportunity. You just need to enjoy the aroma of red wine every day, and gold will grow legs and line up to flow into your pockets..."

Roland was taken aback.

"My God! You're practically a prophet!"

Rupert: ...

Theodore: ...

Roland, since he knows your name, he certainly wouldn't be unaware of who the "Fountain of Youth" is.

"The more I look at him, the more he seems like an idiot."

“Don’t talk like that, Miss Lulu. Mr. Collins saved my life, he…”

"I saved your life too, he's just a big idiot."

Theodore was in a difficult position.

On one hand, it's a life-saving grace; on the other hand, it's the truth.

(End of this chapter)