The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 535 Ch.534 Some Past Five

If you don't want to be caught by the patrol police, people dressed like Halida should avoid appearing on the clean streets reserved for gentlemen - there are many side streets in London.

But it is not easy to avoid feces and urine.

It's like choosing a path in the ocean.

The two small wooden boats set out early in the morning, and when they arrived at the East District, the sun was already overhead.

Halida was not stupid. She knew that with the little money in her pocket, she couldn't even afford to see those big doctors.

She would have to find a doctor for her brother in some shabby place like the East End.

Fortunately, although she was illiterate, she remembered the medicine her brother had been taking.

——Mason Lyle's former good friend, Mr. Brown, always sent him powdered medicine like that, which was said to be used to treat his younger brother's "developmental disability".

There are many 'barbers' in the East District.

There are not many people who are truly capable.

She had inquired and found out that a Mr. Black was the most famous. He lived in a small alley next to the cross street, in a hotel specially prepared for those who had some money but were reluctant to rent a good house.

When Halida came to the door carrying her brother, the man seemed to have just woken up.

Just like a monkey.

Except for his face, his entire body was covered with extremely lush hair: light brown wool curls kept coming out from his nightcap, each curling downwards, merging with the beard on both sides, and tangling all the way to his chin.

The shirt, which had been starched to a white color, was put on carelessly, and the wide open collar revealed the sweat hair that seemed to be still warm.

He was wearing a pair of dark brown plain cloth pants, and even every toe joint was covered with hair.

"…I hope it's the milkman."

Blake closed one eye, scratched his butt and pulled the door open.

Then I saw a girl holding a child.

"Okay," Blake muttered, "Good day, girl." He pulled out the hand that had just finished scratching his butt, leaned against the door frame, and pointed to the side.

"I heard that Long-legged John always comes to your house. You should go and try his place..."

The man yawned, shivered a few times from the cold, and turned to go into the house.

"Sir!" Halida said urgently: "I I ...

She took a step forward, and said in a thick nasal voice, "...Yes...Yes...I'm going to see a doctor..."

Halida did take a moment to let Blake know what she was doing.

Fortunately, he was patient and did not get angry because of the lack of milk - in fact, when Halida was stuttering, the newsboy with the bottle of milk had already come.

"Patient, patient. Yes, I do this job 'part-time'. Come in." Blake opened the door and waved to Halida.

The girl was a little hesitant.

It was dark inside the door.

"Hurry up, Miss."

These hotels are usually made of bricks mixed with grayish-white mud, and have only one window inside - which makes every room very dark.

It was so dark that even when Blake lit a kerosene lamp, the flame in the hood cast more shadows.

"In the light, girl, your complexion makes it difficult for me to see you."

He held several unopened bottles of milk and led Halida to a wooden table covered with newspapers and a few silver buttons.

He yawned again.

"Tell me, what's wrong with you? I'll make it clear first, I can't cure some recurring diseases," he squinted at Halida, "If you take the medicine and still don't get dirty at night, I don't think there's any need to spend money at all, what do you think?"

He took Halida to be a woman of some trade: but who wasn't?

People like her can just satisfy some gentlemen's curiosity.

"It's… it's my brother, sir."

The man lowered his eyes to look at the raised swaddling clothes and stammered, "...Jack Black."

He said.

"Bublake..."

"Jack Black." The curly-haired man took off his nightcap, took the swaddling clothes, held it in his arms and moved it with his fingers, and saw the sleeping face that had turned a little green.

Yes.

That's about the color Jack Black would have been if he hadn't been blind. He looked down at the baby, then at Halida.

He lowered his head and raised it again and again, and pondered for a long time in the flame of the lampshade.

“…Doctors aren’t free.”

Halida felt her pocket, fearing that the kerosene lamp would explode, and took a step back into the shadows.

"I have money."

She tried to make her words sound believable.

But who is Jack Black.

I've seen too many of these.

He put the swaddle on the table and said dryly, "Don't waste my time, girl."

His eyes shifted from the child to the milk bottle, and he subconsciously licked his dry lips, somewhat impatiently.

Until Halida took out a few coins of considerable value.

"Oh."

Only then did he soften his tone and say, "Let me count."

With the help of the flickering fire, thick, hairy fingers picked up the warm coins in Halida's hand one by one and pressed them one by one on the newspaper, just covering the "Truth" in front of Pravda.

"Five."

He muttered a few times. This mediocre number was not worth any medicine.

However, he had a conscience, so a few words were enough.

——If this girl is obedient.

"Ok."

Jack Black stopped touching the coins on the table and rubbed his big hands together. "Tell me, girl. What did you give your son—"

"My my brother!"

"That's not important. What's wrong with him? You have to tell me what's wrong with him, right? I think he's healthy, and at least you don't have to spend five cents - not in your lifetime."

Halida obviously didn't understand and told Blake blankly.

She had been feeding her brother a powdered medicine mixed with water, the kind that strengthens the body and is good for children.

“Dover powder.”

she says.

She told him that the doctor had recently suffered a disaster and jumped off a building, and no doctor would give her this stuff anymore - how much would she have to spend to get each one? Where? How often should she feed her brother the real powder?
She had many questions which Mr. Mason Lyle had not told her.

Every time I asked, the gentleman simply answered "Just drink it."

Now, she wanted to ask secretly.

Jack Black didn't rush to answer. Instead, he squinted his eyes and looked Harida up and down.

After a while, he came to his conclusion.

"I think he should have jumped off the building a long time ago."

"gentlemen?"

"Don't ever call me 'sir', girl. You can call me Jack the Black Dog, or 'Wool' Blake." He pulled out two creaky stools provided in the room and invited Halida to sit down and talk.

Halida didn't dare, nor could she wait.

"Well," said Blake, holding a milk bottle and pointing to the motionless swaddling clothes, "five shillings can buy Dover flour, of course, and it is also worth a good suggestion."

He said.

"I don't have Dover powder, so I can only give you some advice."

His fingers drew an arc along the swaddling clothes, the wall and the boxes stacked in the corner, landing in the direction where Halida had just entered the door.

"Turn right in the alley, there's a garbage pit."

The man tilted his head and looked at her.

"Leaving your brother there, there are people who pay to pick him up - that will help you recover a little, girl."

The darkness grew colder.

(End of this chapter)