The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 542 Ch.541 The Secret in the Necklace
Roland squeezed Harry's hand.

Staring at the girl who was sleeping with a painful look on her face.

On the quilt lay a badly worn gold pound and a rusty iron necklace - sweat and the gambler's rubbing day and night made them rusty and shiny.

It's hard to say whether this five-pound coin can still be spent.

It became a symbol, a currency without a numerical value, a slogan written in charcoal on a brick wall, a tail that is born with you and only shakes when you are alone.

Now, it is a miracle.
-
If the way in which "strange things" were born is so absurd, the world and history may also meet such conditions.

The flames flickered.

"How do you know they aren't?"

Roland lowered his head and picked up the chain. This rough chain, the only thing their mother left to Halida and her brother before they were sold to human traffickers, was already rusted to the point of breaking.

Roland stroked the chains of varying thicknesses, his eyes falling on the pendant, a small, rusty iron box of inferior quality.

He tapped it lightly with his fingernails.

Solid?
He also thought that Halida's mother would leave something behind - words or personal notes for Halida and her siblings.

solid…

wrong.

Roland narrowed his eyes and turned the pendant in another direction.

Under the impact of the rings of flames, a long and narrow crack was particularly obvious.

He knocked twice more and pried at the crack with his fingers.

Halida had never tried to break the metal-locked box with a knife.

"That was left by her mother to her and her brother. You wouldn't think there would be any proof of property in such a small box—"

Click.

Roland silently pried open the side that served as the "lid": when the iron lid that could not be called "skin" was deformed, it naturally revealed the secret that the girl had treasured for many years and had not yet discovered.

Inside was a piece of paper that had been folded several times.

It had been soaked in water and smoked by smoke, and the seemingly solid iron pendant was not tight.

The wrench misfired and circled Roland's head twice.

"I really hope it's not some property certificate or will... You already have too many around you..."
-
Too much of what?
"You know."

Roland glanced at the surprised Cinder and carefully opened the piece of paper: opening it a little at a time to avoid tearing the thin paper that was about to rot.

These are probably the words that Halida's mother left for her daughter and son.

Maybe it's what she thought.

reads:

'I will always love you, please don't blame me or hate me.'

'I try my best, but I still make a mess of my life... I'm sorry, Halida.'

Maybe.

Roland thought.

A mother sold her daughter and son. What kind of words could she leave behind when they parted?

Only repentance and hope.

Just as Roland often wondered, what was his mother thinking when she threw him at the door of the orphanage?

It can't be that the strawberries on yesterday's cake were a little stale.

She should be desperate.

Otherwise, he should not be in the workhouse, but in some unknown and unnoticed sewer.

Or in someone's jar or porridge.

Roland never blamed the lady he had never met, and sincerely wished her to overcome the difficulties and embark on a smooth road without illness and sorrow.

"If she just thought the workhouse paid more..."
-
I find that you always make others feel worse when they are feeling worse.

"why?"

“Is this my talent?”
-
That's why I said that you and Shandel would definitely get along well.

"No thanks."

"I have no affection for that twisted woman."
-
You don't have a good impression of Enid either.

"Of course. Big O Bat and this little viper aren't that great... I think Taylor's idiot is pretty good."
-
Beatrice? -
I didn't realize that you actually liked her?

"Roland."

"I'm in your head."
-
so…?
"So I know exactly where your eyes are focused when you spend most of your time with her - I like the way you act on 'instinct'."

"You know, I like it when you let your 'instincts' run wild."

“This is closer to a wild animal.”

Roland suddenly didn't want to continue this topic anymore.
-
I swear to the All-Father that I don't. "Maybe the All-Father likes them all."
-
Shut your mouth, blasphemer.

"Good cult leader."

Roland drooped his face and unfolded the letter fold by fold. He could already see the blue ink stains on the back of the paper, the blurred words that were stained by filth after being spread out.

not long.

But affectionate enough.

Maybe this is Halida's cure.

A piece of paper that can help her untie the knot in her heart, a message from her mother.

"'My dear daughter, I'm sorry' - another boring, belated, meaningless apology..."

Flame and Roland both stared at the letter that was about to be opened.

The paper has become sticky, and some parts need to be torn very carefully to avoid tearing the rest of the paper.

The text on it is messy.

Ugly font.

Unlike what Roland had imagined, it was not a line of affectionate wishes and exhortations.

Instead, the whole paragraph was written at an angle, as if he had used up all his strength to drip a hysterical and hideous paragraph into the ink, shook it evenly, and left it on the paper.

There is only this paragraph above.

……

'You've made a mess of my life!'

"I really shouldn't have given birth to him... and I really shouldn't have given birth to you!! "

'Die die ...

……

No more.

Just this paragraph.

Roland pinched the paper and turned it over.

'Go Die' is turned upside down, but it is still clearly visible in the light.

He raised his eyes to look at the dark-skinned girl smiling in her sleep, then lowered his eyes to stare at the paper full of curses or venting.

Halida.

This is what it means to truly have nothing.

"Xandel."

"Ok?"

"Do me a favor." Roland pinched his nose. "I want a piece of writing paper, a cup of coffee, a pen and ink... Is that okay?"

Shandel glanced at the old letter in Roland's hand, and seemed to be able to guess what was written on it without even looking at it - Shandel knew too well about the annoying flies in human nature.

The gray-haired girl lifted her hair, brought her knees together, propped up her elbows, and lifted her chin.

A pair of big blue eyes blinked.

"You don't want to take in a monster, do you, my master?" She looked at Roland with innocent eyes and asked in a playful voice, but the answer was already given in this question.

Roland asked back: "What do you think we are?"

"Angel? Righteous thief? Gangster? Slayer?" The girl said excitedly: "I am whatever you want me to be, Roland... my punisher, Master - but you seem to have forgotten one thing."

She blinked.

"She has to get the approval of all the members." Shandel said, "These are the rules set by the leader, right? He may not have to follow them...if he really wants to do so."

Roland thought for a moment, folded the letter in his hand into a strip, stood up, and stuffed the strip into the kerosene lamp through the crack.

"I didn't say 'member'."

Shandel smiled: "What's the difference?"

Roland snapped his fingers and turned his head to listen: "Tell me about it."

Shandel remained still for a moment, staring at the paper in the glass cover being torn into ashes bit by bit by the flames, and a pinch of blue flame ignited in his eyes like a calm lake.

"How can someone who barks like a dog walk like a human...?"

she says.

"Can you hold her hand and walk around for half the evening?"

The hands rubbing the folds of the skirt were slightly harder, with an innocent expression and a hoarse voice:

"I want to see."

(End of this chapter)