The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 467 Ch.466 Method
Of course, Erendira would not agree with Candlelight.

She said Hannah was a very good person. She taught her to read the Bible every day and answered her questions. She was a very good person. She would occasionally bring her some "forbidden" things, such as cookies, candies and ornaments that could easily cut people.

She didn't want Hannah to get hurt.

"Next time I come, I'll bring you a bag of premium cigars." Candle took the bag and patted his neck with his tail. "My father also has a lot of cigars, which are great."

"cigar?"

"A stick that smokes when you hold it in your mouth." The little candle told her, "This is a skill a lady should learn. Didn't your Hannah teach you?"

Erendira was confused.

No one had ever taught her to smoke a cigar.

"You must start learning now, or you won't be able to do it when you are supposed to - I think that bad mouth is not as good as the black tulle skirt. It can be seen that she often practices in private."

If Roland knew his daughter was talking about Enid and him behind their backs...

Blame the wrench.

If it hadn't made a sound, Roland would have noticed that the little eyes in the cuffs never slept and saw everything clearly.

"Learn... cigars?"

"Yes."

"Okay?" Erendira nodded, but still a little hesitant: "I'm not in good health, little candle. I have to be careful... Oh, what were we talking about just now, troubles?"

"My father can always handle it..." the little snake muttered.

"Tell me, tell me." Erendira didn't want the little candle to leave so early. She wanted to hear her say anything - as long as she was here, talking to her, and talking to her about the 'magnificent scenery' that she would never see in her life.

For example, the streets of London.

For example, what other people’s rooms look like.

"…Oh well."

The small candle lay flat on the table, accumulating energy while staring at the overjoyed girl: "You can't tell anyone."

"Who else can I tell?" Erendira asked.

"makes sense…"

The hissing sound paused for a moment, then immediately intensified - just like her body: like a bowstring that was fully drawn and released, Erendira even heard a non-existent 'bang', and the whole snake bounced up from the table, standing upright as if about to launch an attack.

"My father wants to go somewhere!"

The snake shook its head and sighed to the sky.

"To save his closest friend!"

The tail swung and hit the wooden table, making it crack.

"He thought about it again and again and decided to go. He must go, even if he would die in the darkness!"

The two little red beans gradually glowed, and the snake became extraordinarily heroic.

"My powerful and loyal father!"

She began to spin on the table, spinning like a 'Z' that kept stretching forward, and she kept saying:

"He runs over there and looks over there!"

"Finally, he found a friend!"

"She's sleeping underground! Waiting for him to save her! Wake her up!"

"That's when!"

"Your friend, the lightning-fast and terrifying little candle will also contribute his own strength to his father's heroic act!"

Erendira took a thin spoon and tapped it along with the snake's rhythm. The tinkling sound was like that of the ancient bards and their loving audiences.

The little candle raised its snake head, and stood straight in the firelight like a sword.

Erendira clapped her hands a few times, a blush growing on her cheeks at the inspiring story.

"Great! Little candles!"

"Of course," the little white snake shook its scales. The shaking of its head would have been more appropriate if it had a puff of smoke. "He will definitely succeed. A mere church..."

Erendira tilted her face to the side and stopped slapping: "Church?"

"Yes, the church."

The girl covered her hot face with her palm, and her golden eyes darted around: "I think I heard Hannah mention it..."

That was half a month ago.

Hannah was tidying up the room, muttering as she went along. "Oh? What did you say?" She rolled up the candle and rubbed her chin with her snake tail - who did she learn this from?

"She said that the church... had a leak? Very serious." Erendira was a little confused and said vaguely: "She mentioned a friend of a friend. I don't remember the name... a friend of a friend. She seems to be working underground these days..."

Erendira said.

Hannah's friend's friend, a relationship that cannot be communicated, an interesting story -

The Church of the Holy Cross is the seat of faith for almost the entire country.

London, the Cathedral of St. Cross, the most important center.

It's hard to imagine that a place like this would leak.

"Hannah said that her friend's friend scolded someone, and it seemed that the money for maintaining the underground floors was diverted and used up by someone, so it leaks and accumulates water when it rains..."

Erendira shook her head. "It was just small talk. I don't remember much."

The little candle wanted to squint his eyes and think like Kingsley -

Too bad she can't.

'This news...'

'Will it be helpful to my father?'

"of course."

The tea mist was curling up, and Roland held the white snake in his arms, letting the rising steam fall on his face.

Rose put her hands behind her back and paced in front of the few paintings in the room. "She doesn't have very good taste."

The girl stopped in front of the wide painting, and facing her was a woman covered with roses.

The painter's brushstrokes are soft and the use of brighter colors makes the whole picture look dreamy and hazy.

——The taste Rose mentioned refers to the figure of the woman covered with roses.

Plump and full.

This kind of delicate, plump painting, which even looks like a bubble that would ooze out honey with the slightest touch, reminded Miss Slit of the woman who had an equally vicious mouth and heart.

Tired of people.

Yes, this is Shandel's home.

Their temporary base.

"It's really not good taste."

Rose pouted and leaned forward, focusing her eyes on the name on the note stuck under the picture frame.

"…Bouchet?"

She learned Braille and could read the name.

"He's probably an unknown painter. Our Miss Kratov says she doesn't like the conventional banquet, but she's secretly trying to follow it."

Rose hated Chandel, so she also hated the artist who created the painting - perhaps simply because of the stark contrast between her figure and the woman in the painting.

"With a body like that, there's no way you can join my line-and-hook gang."

She tapped the painting with her fingers and emphasized her philosophy to Roland: practicality.

She obviously didn't understand that men and women thieves have different views on 'practicality'.

"Let Monsieur Francois go, Rose."

Roland fanned his hands, dispelling the character introductions floating in front of him.

"Do you really want to empty the Shandel family's house?"

She had left several times, and in addition to the small cash box, Shandel's jewelry, candlesticks, tableware, small cloak and even boot trees fell into the hands of this thief.

Those that are easy to cash in will flow into the black market and enter some not-so-wealthy families.

"This is the life-saving money she paid in advance."

The girl with curly hair took two or three steps to Roland and sat on the chair backwards.

"You said you found a solution?"

Roland nodded. "I thought you were not willing to help."

"I'm not like her." Rose said disdainfully: "If it were me, I would never count on her to save my life."

(End of this chapter)