The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 401: Bottles and Horse Racing

Roland handed the Inquisition an empty puzzle box.

what?
Is there anything else inside?

He doesn't know.

After James Shelley gave him the box, he only kept it for one night. The next morning, he rushed to deliver it to the court - how could he know what was inside?

Enid acted nonchalant.

She said that there was indeed a secret hidden in this thing, but that had nothing to do with her or Roland, and was something that the real big shots should consider.

Just don't be curious.

"This thing can't make you immortal, so Roland, handing it over to the Inquisition is a very good choice."

Roland had gotten used to it, used to Enid's indifference to many things.

The metal magic box might not be as important as the headband on her head and the jewelry around her neck - Roland could imagine her sitting by the red-hot fireplace, wearing a soft, simple house skirt, humming a song, and warming her coffee or tea on the slate.

She left a few books on the coffee table so she could read them while curled up on the sofa.

There seemed to be a few more paintings in the room, some silver plates with candy (they did have it, but it was usually only eaten on special occasions), and fresh fruits and vegetables.

No matter how cold the morning was, it couldn't disturb her.

This is her home.

And Roland is the husband she is waiting for to return in the snow.

"You are more like my wife than the presiding judge." The young man on the sofa held the handle of his cup and said this out of nowhere.

It really shocked the woman.

"Roland?" Enid shook her nightgown, her peachy skin turned into a straight back, and she closed the cupboard door. "I would like to, but my status does not allow me to be anyone's wife."

"Maybe, wait for the next presiding judge?"

"There won't be a successor, dear." Enid walked by with a scent of lavender and brushed out Roland's black hair that was pressed down on his back. "The Holy Cross will not allow such a naughty thing to exist after me."

"Victoria wouldn't allow it either."

"Really?" Roland did not comment.

He and she seldom discussed matters concerning important people - perhaps they both tacitly agreed that those matters were not to their taste and were not the dishes on their table.

"I'm planning to go back to Fork County." He put down the cup, and the woman happened to sit down and snuggle up to him.

Roland took her into his arms and watched her soft body crawl into his shirt. He took out a cigar, moistened his lips with it playfully, and scratched the cigar cap with his fingernails, replacing the scissors.

"Falkshire?"

Enid put the cigar into Roland's mouth, and a flame appeared at her fingertips.

"Don't touch the secret again." Roland said helplessly, "Enid, my lady."

The woman smiled but said nothing, just stroking her gift of walking things and showing them to the man beside her as they moved up and down, the pockets under her nightgown looking like those of a homeless person in the East Side slums.

Enid always had new tricks up her sleeve. Roland wondered if she would put on a black robe, cover the upper half of her face with a hood, and wrap a large wool scarf around her neck whenever she was alone, sneaking out of the courtroom away from the executors.

She called a public carriage, guaranteed that she would not miss a penny including tolls, and asked the driver to take her to the dirtiest and most vulgar place in the East End.

Then find a teacher and listen to a whole night of "knowledge".

——Although Enid always said that it was innate in the blood, just like men know how to move forward when they grow up, and the same is true for women.

Roland didn't believe it.

What is naturally in our blood are emotions, passion, and kissing.

He didn't think that 'nature' could teach Enid how to be like an outstanding hound, or even better than an outstanding hound.

He couldn't develop that much strength by smoking a cigar, as if she had seven or eight lungs.

"In the next two days, the executive officer will go to the Shelley family and question your little friend and old Shelley. You can tell them that there won't be anything difficult to answer. However, don't talk about the mystery box."

Enid leaned in Roland's increasingly broad arms, and her brown hair, like every emotion she didn't want to leave, either got into his shirt, entangled in buttons or hidden in his vest.

"I know." Roland nodded.

"I will leave after the interview is over, which will take about a week or two - to bring my caregivers to London."

The woman in his arms moved and rubbed against him.

Both legs were placed on the coffee table.

"Have you considered?"

Enid asked.

Roland had never mentioned James Jones since arriving in London, but she knew very well that James Jones was the most important person to Roland:
The more important, the more cautious.

She thought he would spend some time and money to arrange for Philip Collins to be relocated away from London.

Maybe I will never see James Jones and my uncle again in my life.

did not expect.

"Perhaps it's selfish of me to think so, Enid, but I want to keep Yam with me—and maybe she does, too."

Enid leaned into his arms.

"Not possible, Roland, she must think so."

But the woman hesitated.

When Johnny Jones arrived in London...

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell her about us, Roland,” Enid said.

She was worried that after James Jones found out about their relationship, he would say something to Roland, which would lead to consequences she didn't want to see - such as staying away from a vile and shameless silver woman.

She wasn't sure if Roland would listen to the woman, but she was worried.

"Between us?"

Roland held her thin shoulders and asked knowingly, "What's going on between us?"

The woman pulled her skirt up to her waist and blew hot air into her man's ear: "Bad boy."

He showed Roland the new invisible stockings and knickers that she had bought under her skirt.

And those ten toes dyed rose-colored.

"I learned a new trick, Roland."

She slowly baked it, like heating an elephant with a flame: "New, interesting..."

Generally speaking, only those who have lost an arm and have no one to serve them would think of using their other two limbs that were meant for walking to do other things - for example, picking up a fork or spoon and doing daily necessities.

Especially ladies.

If you lose your arms and have no one to serve you, it would be difficult to wash the medicine bottle that has fallen on the ground.

The disabled girl had to learn to use her feet, first using her left foot to block the back of the medicine bottle as support.

At the same time, the one on the right holds the bottle and washes it repeatedly under the water.

Her big toe and other toes had to be spread apart like a fork of flesh and blood, while her wrist had to be nimble enough and her calves and thighs had to be strong enough.

She would need something to lean on—if she really had no arms.

In short, this medicine bottle that fell into the mud definitely reflects how many difficulties people with disabled arms have to face in life, but I think they probably cannot arouse anyone's sympathy - if they were just washing the bottles, they might attract admiration and praise.

Perhaps there is also the sound of horses breathing in and out after the race.

Horses have bigger lungs, and sometimes people, in some subtle circumstances, make their lungs bigger, breathe bigger, and bottle bigger.

Roland had wanted to talk to Enid about Falk County, his thief friend, and the Shelley family, but now, he was like a horse that had just finished a race and didn't care whether he won or came in last.

That doesn't matter anymore.

Victory or defeat belongs to humans, and the horse is only responsible for enjoying the run.

(End of this chapter)