The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 472 Ch.471 Rescuer

'Master Corrant's life was an eventful one.'

'It was also a legendary life.'

People say that he came from a muddy background and was a thief who lost his parents at a young age.

In the streets and alleys, hanging out with the smashers from the Fingerless Gang, wherever it's a bad place, you can see him and hear his name - Bastard Collante.

He was keen on finding like-minded people. He would come and go, roaring, taking away wealth that even the heavens were amazed at.

The city was not very peaceful during those years.

Not a very nice person either.

Later, he got lucky and saved an old gentleman during a gang fight - a man who studied currency and finance and lectured at the local university.

His family owns a small bank, which is inherited from generation to generation.

Collante was inspired.

——To this day, people have not been able to figure out what happened during that period.

In short, the gentleman took a liking to him. Not only did he take him to many important occasions, but he also provided him with a good environment to receive education and took him to meet and listen to important people.

Although Collante is a bastard, it must be said that he is also extremely smart.

Soon, in about two or three or four years, Collante won the favor of the old gentleman and was officially recognized by this gentle man with a daughter and an extraordinary family background.

He had money and cut off ties with his street friends early on.

Many people said that they often saw him talking loudly at banquets and showing off his gold pocket watch from time to time.

after that.

He married the old gentleman's daughter.

He completely changed himself and became a businessman and banker.

He had wealth and fame, which also gave him the backing to borrow funds from banks in other cities:
In several disastrous events that followed, he was assisted by God and chose the right side every time.

until today.

The family name of Corrant Grasso has gone from being good as it was to being noble as it was.

Capital and credit are inseparable, and with them, you have the ticket to enter.

Now, Mr. Collante can control the admission tickets and choose to give them to young people he admires and who have a promising future.

Just a little bit, it's regrettable.

Maybe the gods were offended, or maybe it was the curse of that old man - something like that?

Collante Grasso had no children in his lifetime.

He had a wife and more than twenty lovers.

Unfortunately, none of them could lay eggs, and no one could give him a slimy, wrinkled son or daughter, not even a sheep or a cat or a dog - they had nothing to leave for the aging Mr. Corrant Grasso except feces and the blood, lumps and smelly strips that came every month.

old sir.

He is old.

just now.

He began to pick young men.

Just like when he was chosen.

He wants to choose an heir for the Grasso family.

- Although Colant Grasso was not happy about it, he knew very well in his heart how much of a bastard, dark, and calculating he was in the past: because of this, when he looked at those energetic young people who tried their best to show their intelligence and integrity in front of him, he knew what they were thinking at a glance.

They were eyeing his wealth.

His power, his status, his wonderful and happy life.

These young people are not good.

But he had no choice.

"Xandel."

He called his maid, waved his hand, and asked her to take the young man who was trying to sell himself away.

"Give him two cents, Chandel."

Collante said.

The aging body feels like it will break bones if it sneezes.

The man who had lost all his hair narrowed his eyes and looked greedily at the maid's hair, face, and body.

A graceful young girl.

pity.

He is too old.

Just like the poor people in the city, they cannot be said to be useless, but they can also have nothing to rely on.

——If you yell at the poor to "Stand up!", will they stand up straight and climb up?
pity.

He had intended to enjoy her for himself, and have her bear him children—or, if God willing, he did have children, to have this Chandel take care of them.

pity.

"Thank you, young man. You have to give me some time to think about it."

He smiled at the blond man in the room, interrupted his chattering, witless speech, and asked the maid to send him away with the money for the journey. Shandel went out for a few minutes and came back.

"master."

The gray-haired girl has a young - even childish - face.

She looks like a child, innocent and tender, as if she should still smell like milk.

"master."

She stood beside Corrant with concern and bowed slightly: "You are too tired today, you should rest."

Collante shook his head.

He doesn't have much time left.

There has to be a result.

"Tomorrow, sir, you can't continue to ruin your body like this." Shandel was a little annoyed. Although servants were not allowed to get angry with their masters under any circumstances, it was precisely because of this that she seemed to treat Collante differently.

She is a girl who can transcend her identity and focus on things beyond her identity.

Collante liked her.

He had met too many people in his life, but Shandel was different.

"When I die, there will be no one to protect you, Kratov." Krant agreed with the maid and took a day off. He gathered his sleeves, raised his head slightly, and let the maid wipe the saliva from the corners of his mouth with the softest silk cloth.

"When I die, I'll give you some money and you can leave here."

"I still have to serve the next generation of the Grasso family." The gray-haired girl smiled playfully, not caring about the old man's extremely smelly saliva, folded the handkerchief and put it in the cloth bag, "I have to take care of the young master."

She helped Colant up, put down the small table, and served him the soft and baked vegetable pancakes.

The pancakes, fried until golden brown, are sweet and savory, and consist of a few black, knuckle-wide worms.

They rolled up in disorder in the porcelain plate and crawled everywhere.

then.

It was picked up by Corrant Grasso and thrown into his mouth.

"I haven't eaten vegetable cakes in chunks in these years, Shandel. I really miss the days when I was a kid hanging out on the streets - at least the food was in chunks..."

The old man's rotten teeth could no longer bite the bread, but the bread did not seem as tough as he had imagined. Instead, it was juicy. Even though it was just noodles and vegetables, he tasted like fruit, cream, steak and cod.

Really good.

Corrant muttered: "God bless my rotten teeth..."

Shandel narrowed his eyes and smiled, echoing: "The Father of All Things will."

Stopped abruptly.

The old man suddenly turned around, and his wrinkled face seemed to be visibly regaining its youth.

His eyes were no longer cloudy, as if something had washed away the filth in them and allowed him to begin to see through the haze.

"Who are you talking about?"

He questioned Shandel in a bad tone.

The maid was terrified and shook her head without saying a word.

“No, I don’t blame you.” Corrant raised his hand to stop the maid from coming forward to help. He lowered his head and muttered to himself like crazy: “Father of All…Father of All…God…Holy…Holy Cross?”

The more he spoke, the brighter his eyes became.

The space gradually began to wrinkle.

"Who am I..."

The man who returned to middle age murmured.

"who I am…"

"I'm…"

"correct!"

He shouted!
"I am--"

A silver knife pierced into the back of his head.

The crisp sound of cracking crushed the shout in the throat.

Corrant Grasso twitched and rolled his eyes.

He saw the gray-haired girl holding his jaw.

She held his chin with one hand while she slowly twisted the dagger behind his head with the other.

He heard a whisper as soft as a mosquito, a vaguely familiar spell, the power that came through prayer.

A fierce miniature storm.

It felt like something was being minced.

It's his...

brain.

"How can I be rescued by you?"

(End of this chapter)