The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 164 Ch.163 South District Soft Tongue

A newsboy brings Miss Cake's letter.

She made an appointment in the South District.

This was a place Roland was not familiar with.

He had hardly been there since he came to London: a café somewhere in the South End, before the sun had completely set.

The coachman knew the location, but he reminded Roland to be careful.

"I see that you are not an ordinary person, so I have to say a few more words."

'People there are unusually rude.'

When Roland saw the cafe, he knew that what the coachman said was right.

The thick beams were exposed and the ceiling was very low. Even in the daytime, Roland guessed that the store was pitch black.

The windows were the usual small glass panes, with a few large parasols outside. The walls were lined with wainscots nailed with long round-head nails, and covered with all kinds of "hawking" signs.

for example:

'Little girl, thirteen years old, new, good at serving people.'

'Black, male, 17 years old, agile and strong.'

Roland also saw some "flyers" posted by husbands themselves - they detailed their wives' "good points" and a few "small flaws that are not difficult to accept", and wrote in large letters at the bottom of the paper "price is negotiable".

A few men in felt hats were leaning against the wall, holding cigarettes, chatting idly while looking out at the street; on the other side was a shoe shiner with all his belongings, and next to him stood two boys of seven or eight years old.

When Roland got off the carriage, almost all the idle people on the street focused their eyes on his face.

First the face, then the suit and the leather shoes.

A few young boys were eager to try, but they found that his destination was a cafe, so they cursed a few words and sat back on the steps.

The name of the cafe is: Soft Tongue.

Roland didn't know how to comment.
-
I really don’t know how to name it.

"You have no right to say that."

The room was predictably dim, even with the two pitiful gas lamps lighting it.

Not many people.

Rose sat in the innermost seat.

"Hey! I'm here!"

She stood up and waved from a distance.

Roland was surprised by the way the cake lady was dressed today: she was wearing a suit and a gentleman's hat.

Presentable.

"Come on!" She came over and pulled Roland to sit down. "What do you want to eat? There are ham, cakes, and toasts here... Yes, you have to try their coffee, it's a good choice!"

She began to chirp again, just as she had done in Falkshire.

Roland tried not to show his surprise and pointed at her shirt.

"…What's wrong with you?"

"Good question, pretty face. This is a suit. Do I need to introduce it to you? It's just like what you're wearing."

She stared at Roland's face, but found no anger or dissatisfaction on it.

So, I was even happier.

"I wear it better than you do... I wear it just as well as you do, right?"

A cup of coffee is five pence.

A sandwich with four or five slices of ham and a glass of sherry, fourpence.

A piece of sponge cake, three crispy buns spread with butter, and two small steaks two fingers wide, ten pence.

"Mr. Vansittart is paying today! She's getting rich lately!" the girl shouted loudly. Obviously, she knew the owner here and had chatted with him for a few words in front of the counter.

After a while, the buttered, steaming hot toasted biscuits were served.

But before Roland could do anything, a piece of paper that had been folded several times was stuffed into his hand.

"Can you help me figure out what this means?"

Rose looked around slyly - at this time, all the idlers were "working" outside, so there were not many people in the cafe.

But she still lowered her voice: "I know you have a way to see it. Help me see what this means."

The blue ink stains left on the paper are not pretty.

This is a forbidden story.

'The evil giant broke into the princess's house.'

'It killed kings and queens and enslaved the people.'

"The princess and the others endured the pain, waiting for an opportunity for the giant to be distracted..." "An opportunity."

'She and her loyal guards sneaked into the palace, killed the giant, and recaptured her kingdom.'

'People embraced her as the true king.'

It's such a simple, yet somewhat forbidden story.

The giant inside is prohibited.

Roland shook the letter, not quite understanding what it meant.

"Forbidden story, do you want me to take you to the Inquisition?"

Rose rolled her eyes and said, "You'd better catch your friend. Then, I will tell the other black crows that you and I are in the same group."

She snatched the letter back and read it again and again.

"This is what our boss gave me..."

"Boss?"

"Mr. Diamond." Rose put down the letter and frowned, "She's not quite right lately."

As for what was wrong, Rose didn't say.

She asked about the previous party and asked if Roland had found her sisters.

found it.

But, it was a corpse.

When the girl saw Roland hesitate, her emerald green eyes gradually dimmed.

She picked up the glass and drank it all.

"I have a friend who was burned here," she pointed to her neck, "... maybe you haven't seen her in any of those, right? Maybe she really married to some small place..."

Burn marks.

Roland thought of the woman who had 'broken' in his arms.

"… maybe, Rose. I've never met the person you're talking about."

The girl with rosy cheeks looked at Roland for a long while, said nothing, then turned around and ordered another glass of wine.

When the waiter put down the wine and left, Roland reached into his arms, pulled out two golden glass tubes, gently placed them on the table, and pushed them to the girl opposite.

"Holy water?" Rose blinked.

She still remembered that Roland had asked her to drink it at the banquet.

My stomach feels warm.

"It's holy water." Roland stared at her, hinting: "The 'magic' we have is divided into negative and positive. And the cultist at the banquet belongs to the negative side. Holy water can not only dispel its influence on you - when it comes into contact with negative creatures, it's like flames touching ice and snow."

"You might need it."

Roland knocked on the table: "Or, tell your troubles to your friends."

Rose said nothing, but raised her cup to shield one eye.

The emerald green dispersed into a floating algae in the dark brown wine.

"What is 'real power', Roland?" She suddenly asked without any context, "Is it your magic?"

Roland took a sip of hot coffee and did not answer. Instead, he asked another question: "Rose, are you a kind person?"

"Kind?" Rose wondered.

"I mean, with a lot of compassion in my heart."

Miss Cake put down her glass and curled her lips: "If an old, blind, lame woman whose husband and son died and who made a living by pasting matchboxes had gold pounds hidden in her hand, I would steal it without hesitation."

"You can just say no, lady who put the paper box."

The girl smirked.

"So, are you a vicious person?" Roland asked again, "Do those who suffer make you happy?"

Rose shrugged. "I just like the money, the endless amount of money... the thrill of a robbery or a burglary... I'm not interested in abusing anyone."

Roland groaned: "So, you are a smart one... Oh, forget it."

Rose had only listened halfway and was still waiting to nod.

"Just ask."

"I don't have to ask, Rose."

"Maybe I meet the third requirement...!"

Roland smiled: "You don't qualify, Rose."

(End of this chapter)