The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 438 Ch.437 Manor
——The flames paved the way for her, and the storms from the sky became soldiers. She looked at the town, as if she had traveled through time and saw herself looking at the flames in her childhood.

"Yes! That's it! Roland! You should write a novel!" Rose's eyes curved when she heard his words: "Great! Isn't it! You really should be a writer!"

She flapped her wings like a bird leaving its nest, dragging Roland all over the place.

"I should be a carriage, since you can't walk properly anyway."

Rose held his arm and rocked it.

suddenly.

She shuddered a few times.

Her face flushed.

"Roland."

"Ok?"

"It's different...it seems..."

She couldn't describe, and no one told her, what this feeling was.

She became even more 'vigorous', as if a lot of fuel had been added to her weak soul, making her whole body as hot as a erupting volcano.

It’s “influence”.

It seems that she will soon have a headache about the materials for upgrading the second ring.

Kingsley on the side was also a little dazed.

He moved his legs following the 'troops', and a strange excitement appeared on his cold face that had never changed for thousands of years.

The old-looking young man had never experienced anything like this, anything dangerous but crazy: he had only read about it in books and mentioned it in conversations with friends.

But I never thought that one day I would actually be involved in such a dangerous event.

It feels so amazing.

He felt like he had 'created history', and he also understood what Rose was pursuing to some extent -

That wasn't what he wanted, but he had to say, it felt good.

"I can't believe we actually made it."

Rose turned her head to look at him, laughing so hard that her throat was almost exposed: "There are two more ritualists, Kingsley! We have to kill them soon!"

Roland knew that there would be no more ritualists.

"Are you happy, Rose?" he shouted in her ear, above the noise.

"I'm so happy!" the rosy-cheeked girl also shouted.

…………

……

When the large army arrived at Streeter Manor, they almost surrounded it - half of the town's miners had come.

Swearing, they forced their way through the checkpoint that divided the mining town and overwhelmed the town police in their ranks: the town police were someone's son, someone's husband, someone's friend.

Some of them pulled the trigger, but most chose to put the gun down.

Four or five men were wounded, and some were dead, and were put to rest on the spot, and then the team continued to move forward, forward.

The never-ending tide constantly sucked in tributaries along its path, becoming more and more destructive.

They rammed the iron gate of the manor and pushed it down.

They beat and injured people, tore the clothes of the coachman and the doorman into pieces, tied them up, and hung them up.

They shouted slogans, rushed into the manor, and spread out like ants.

Henry Streeter had no time to react.

He didn't know where his ritualists had gone, where the 'loyal' William had gone, where the town police and guards who were supposed to be on his side and manipulate the laws and rules had gone.

It seemed like a moment, a blink of an eye.

The world has turned upside down.

Everything has changed.

He is the heir of Street and the master of Innstown.

How dare these servants, these lowly animals, roar at him and spit in his face?
"Henry Streeter..."

He was roughly torn from the house and thrown onto the open space next to the fountain.

Everyone surrounded her, leaving only one path for Peggy.

"Henry Streeter..."

The calm-faced girl looked down at the man in his torn robe, looking at his exposed butt, leg hair and extremely shameful expression.

A fire that had never been in her before was ignited in her heart.

It ignited the moment she stepped into the manor.

The light wagtails are getting colorful feathers, while some birds are fading.

"Good day, brother." She pointed her right toe back and knelt down to salute.

"You're more embarrassed than I thought."

Henry didn't have time to pay attention to his damn sister. He curled up and tried to find a piece of cloth to cover his body.

Lowly inferior people!

Rude lowlife!

When this matter is over, he will hang them all!
Hanged!

Hang them all!

"I think you should give us an answer, brother." Peggy said indifferently: "We came from the most painful place to your place of enjoyment..."

But now Henry Streeter would not talk to his sister at all.

"Get out of here! You bitch!" He had a vicious look on his face, wishing he could skin Peggy alive with his eyes. "Who would agree to do such a thing? Do you want to know the consequences?! I will kill you--"

Snapped.

A stone hit him on the head.

Blood gurgled.

The man covered his head and looked to the other side.

Boy Kohler.

"No one dares to do anything to the Street family... little bastard..."

Snapped.

Another piece.

At this tense moment, the crowd actually started to laugh.

Yes.

Henry Streeter.

Some people even never saw this terrible, dictatorial master in their entire lives.

Their master, the master of the rope around their neck, the master of the coins in their pockets.

And now, with half of his butt exposed, he was as powerless as a child to curse.

Such a contrast made many people feel absurd: How could such a person be worthy of being their master?

They had Peggy Streeter.

A truly noble lady.

She has Street's blood flowing in her veins, and at the same time, she is extremely kind and gentle.

Definitely much better than Henry Streeter.

They rushed over, stuffed a rag in his mouth, tied his hands and feet, and then someone shouted:
"Hang him!"

But no one responded to this.

Hanging Street was no small matter.

No one dared to do so - they thought that everything they had done was for Peggy Streeter, and it was 'all done together', and they couldn't just hang them all.

But what if Henry was killed?

Those who took action will definitely not have a good ending.

No one dares to do this.

Silence returned to the manor.

"Miss Peggy."

A miner spoke up: "…We, is this it?"

They talked at once about what to do next, and Peggy bowed in turn, sincerely thanking them for their help.

She needed some time to consider how to deal with her blood brother.

The old butler of Streeter Manor was not affected - or rather, except for a few 'loyal' servants who were stripped of their clothes and beaten black and blue, most of the servants in the manor fled or hid.

The butler was not young anymore and had watched Street’s brothers grow up.

"…Miss."

The old man was trembling, with a complicated expression.

The last time he saw this girl was four months ago.

Over the years, Peggy's ability to 'smoothly' steal wealth from her family was more or less related to him - he couldn't let this miserable child live a truly miserable life like Henry Streeter did to Peggy:
Every month, the butler would be taught to put a few dozen pounds in the cash box in the small attic of Peggy's room.

"It's so nice to see you again..."

(End of this chapter)