The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 180 Ch.179 Letter

As for Shelley's Inn, Roland planned to go and check out the situation first.

Because the Whipper only has one chance, he must choose someone who has been using the whip for a long time.

Then there was the alien blood that Shandel had promised.

By this calculation, there are only two rituals missing for the Sword of Judgment.

"The Wail of the Spirits", and "The Power of the Clang".

The former is easy to handle. Just wait a few days, and then come across a small case, and then go to the house with Cinder to exorcise the demon. The latter is a bit troublesome. Regarding the matter of "Qiangming"...

A blacksmith shop is a definite no-go.

When Roland had recently visited Cordoni to see his little princess, Mr. Leathersmith had been jingling for half an hour in the next room.

But the ring didn't respond.

This means that shoemaking or blacksmithing is not loud enough, or does not have enough power.

In short, Roland currently has no idea about the latter ritual.

He asked Enid and Fernandez indirectly, but the way these two completed the ceremony really made Roland...

Fernandez's "clang power" came from a huge explosion - a mission he carried out a few years ago to capture a scholar who performed illegal rituals in the cellar. The battle destroyed the entire house and caused a violent explosion.

Enid's came from an observation: watching a six-ring "craftsman" make a mechanical creation.

So, it was a loud noise, or...

"No."

"I roughly understand what this ritual means, Roland."

"It's a bit troublesome for you right now."

"Let's wait until 'The Whipper' is completed. Let me think about where in this era you can easily hear this ritual..."
-
Okay, then I will -

"I figured it out."

Roland: ...

The white flames formed a picture.

Roland frowned.
-
Are you sure...
-
Just go here?
"Give it a try. You just happen to be dealing with the trouble at Shelley Station, so why not give it a try while you're at it?"

…………

……

drug store.

"I'm not coming back tonight, uncle."

These words made the half-pinched tomato stop at the corner of someone's mouth.

Old Collins turned his head suddenly, and the sofa under his butt creaked.

"What did you say?"

"I said I won't come back to live here." Roland shrugged.

He was dressed in civilian clothes, and the only valuable thing on him was the cane leaning against the medicine table.

"I told you, it's best not to come back with any trouble." Old Collins curled his lips and focused his eyes on a certain part of Roland's body. "A female boss can't satisfy your young and vigorous body?"

"…What?"

"I say, don't learn from those people." The uncle pointed out the window, "I finally saved some money, but it all went into those women's pockets."

Roland: ...

Got it.

"It's a mission. I usually listen to you." Roland put down the ruler he was fiddling with, walked to the sofa with a smile, pushed Old Collins aside with his butt, and leaned over: "Uncle."

"What are you doing?"

"You won't be back all night, oh, you're not... worried about me?"

crunch.

The old guy next to me bounced up as if he was pricked by a needle in the butt!

"I'm worried about you?! That's not funny!"

"I have so many things to do every day, collecting herbs, sorting them, cutting roots, picking out the bad ones - I have endless things to say to the stingy guests and herbalists, how can I still have time to 'worry about you' -?"

Roland smiled and tilted his head towards his uncle...

Just lean on someone's shoulder.

Old Collins curled his lips, shrugged his shoulders in disgust, and pushed away the delicate golden-eyed cat that was half dead and extremely troublesome to raise.

"You're just dreaming about what you mean by 'worry'... You can go and ask around. If I were five or six years younger, or eight or nine years younger, there would be no place for you to live in this house." Old Collins snorted and picked up another tomato and threw it into his mouth.

"Do you know my nickname when I was younger?"

"'Cold Collins'——" He straightened his chest and glanced at the man beside him who was limp like mud.

"How do you think I managed to stay on this street and prevent those hooligans from targeting my pharmacy?"

Roland replied lazily: "Because they are afraid of you——"

"That's right!"

"Because they're afraid you'll die."

Old Collins: ...

Almost choked to death on a tomato.

"Nonsense! They are afraid of my fist!"

The old man clenched his fist angrily, unclenched it, and clenched it again.

He repeated this action just to let Roland hear the "click" sound.

"Well, Uncle Ice-cold. So you were famous back then?"

Old Collins raised his eyebrows and said, "You're right. If it weren't for my fists, I wouldn't be able to handle the troublemakers who come to my house every day."

"Oh, what about Yam's letter?"

crunch--

The sound stopped suddenly.

Old Collins perfectly demonstrated to Roland what it meant to be caught off guard—there was still a trace of smugness on his face, and then there was panic.

"You, the letter from the person who takes care of you... didn't we agree that I would... reply?" He was cautious, shrinking his neck and testing: "I replied on time."

Roland lay sideways, supporting his head with one hand.

"I mean, you have to read it to me, uncle. Since you stopped me from writing letters to you, you hardly read them to me..."

Read a letter?

impossible.

It is absolutely impossible.

Can that be told to Roland?
To be honest, James Jones and Roland are not related by blood, but what happened recently made him feel awkward, as if he had fallen in love with a mother but could not face her son...

"…My throat isn't feeling well lately. Can we do it another day?"

"I'm just listening, uncle. I miss Yam a little bit." Roland pouted, looking pitiful: "...You didn't let me send people to write and read, and you didn't read to me..."

Old Collins looked at his increasingly dim golden eyes and scratched his greasy head a few times in annoyance.

"Tsk, reading to you...it's not a big deal."

He got up and went to the back room, and two minutes later, he came out with a letter.

It was indeed written by Yam Jones.

After spreading it out, the first question he asked was about Roland.

"How is my Roland doing lately?"

"I heard from you that he has done a lot of great things since joining the church and is now very famous - in the future, he will definitely be our pride, right?"

"I am fascinated by your fishing stories."

"I wonder when I will have the chance to enjoy fishing with you on a quiet afternoon by a beautiful lake?"

"To be honest, I don't like the prodigal son who abandons his family and relatives - but what you did is really admirable."

"The Collins name was honored by your brother, but you gave it freedom."

"Oh right. As for the move you mentioned, I'm not sure and I'm very hesitant. I don't know how to make a decision - moving to London, work, life, and my little Roland... I have too many things to consider."

"I just hope you can take good care of Roland, and I also hope you can take good care of yourself."

"Determined and hesitant, your Yam Jones."

That’s roughly what the letter said.

Roland is invisible in his uncle's mind, so he has to listen to him.

Of course, I won’t recite it literally.

"Cough cough."

Old Collins cleared his throat, not knowing whether it was to deceive himself or to make himself feel more at ease. He pressed his index finger on the first line of words and read to Roland word by word:

"Hello, Mr. Pushou Collins."

"I miss Roland so much, every day."

Roland: ...

Finally I know what it means to lie with open eyes.

(End of this chapter)