The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 548 Ch.547 Mason Lyle's Plan

Mason Lyle could no longer remain in London.

He ran out of 'opportunities' and 'time'.

He destroyed with his own hands the work he had put in over the years.

Of course he knew he was not crazy.

But fate was not on his side.

The circus under the setting sun was shrouded in a thin layer of blood mist.

The man with gray curly hair was wearing a top hat and carrying a suitcase, stepping deeply and shallowly on the grass that was mowed all year round.

Behind him was a blazing flame.

Soon, the news of the Mud Ball Circus's 'fire' will spread throughout the streets and alleys - as an owner who died in the fire, Mason Lyle's identity will become history from then on.

He could give himself a new name, spend some money to bribe minor officials, and become Lyle Mason or John Lyle.

Everything in London was undoubtedly a failure.

嗏

Just have it.

Mason Lyle wiped the ashes from his face and tucked the suitcase under his armpits.

That contains its hope.

"You should try more times, Mason Lyle." The voice in the suitcase was so cheerful: "No one can succeed in just one try. If the boundary of the extraordinary was so easy to cross, the world would be full of ritualists."

"I'm at my wits' end!" Mason Lyle growled, hammering the suitcase viciously. "You told me to kill them all! It's your fault! I could have chosen not to do it!"

'Oh, I never told you to kill them.'

The shock of the hammering did not scare a happy fairy. On the contrary, it began to feel a little disgusted with this remaining soul.

'I'm just asking you to "create" some "crazy souls", Mason Lyle, the method is up to you.'

That's right.

But Mason Lyle believes that there are not many things that can drive a person crazy.

He had failed with Halida, and the son of a bitch had gotten away with it. He had no more time to waste—just yesterday a gang of scumbags had come to the door, asking if the lady had been to the circus.

Mason Lyle knew how efficient these men were.

But even the dumbest ones would quickly discover that they were lying through bank records: they only had to sift through the possible sources, search the circus tent, interrogate the deformed freaks…

He was completely finished.

He had no choice but to use these "children" as materials...

What a pity.

He quite likes them.

'Isn't that great?'

The goblin laughed shrilly.

'No one knows you are alive, Mason Lyle. The fire will burn the tents to the ground, leaving nothing behind. You can change your appearance, and under my guidance -'

Mason Lyle scowled: "Not guidance."

"Ah, of course, with your own wits and ingenuity." The goblin obediently changed the subject: "So, where are you going to take me? Back to the place where you first founded the circus?"

Mason Lyle said nothing, but kept his head down and walked hurriedly.

As he walked, he brushed off the dust on his body, cut off the burn marks with a knife, and tried to let his coat be exposed to the winter wind as much as possible to dissipate the pungent smell.

He sprayed half a bottle of perfume to cover up the blood on his body.

Now it smells...

'I need a chance to get out of town.'

Mason Lyle spoke bluntly.

He now dared to command the goblin because he discovered its 'weakness' - yes, it longed for his soul, and could not wait, longing for it greedily.

But what makes people laugh is.

There was no way it could jump out of the bottle unless he unscrewed the cork himself.

Just trade.

One transaction after another.

Incompetent little monster.

'Of course, you will always get what you want.' The goblin was willing: 'Take the right path and wait for five minutes on the path, and you will have such an opportunity, Mason Lyle. 'The right path?
The man frowned.

On the left was the avenue, and in the distance was the public carriage station. Although it took half an hour to walk there, you would definitely get a carriage.

The path on the right...

There are not many carriages.

'I am leaving London.'

He emphasized.

'Oh, how come I didn't know you were going to leave London.' The goblin laughed: 'I'm talking about the way to get you out of London. Mason Lyle, do you want to listen to me, or do you want to follow your own ideas?'

Mason Lyle paused.

maybe…

No.

He understood what the goblin meant.

The stations on the road did allow him to choose the cheapest and most experienced coachman - but this would undoubtedly reveal that he was still alive.

Once the black guys come to the door, those with looser lips than the skirts of prostitutes will inevitably reveal their whereabouts to them - they will inevitably be described as 'pale hair', 'carrying a suitcase', and 'looking panicked'.

Even the dumbest person could guess it was him based on the description.

So... a little later? When the sun sets...

No.

Every minute and every second is extremely important now.

Mason Lyle curled the corners of his mouth as he listened to the sinister laughter coming from the suitcase.

He found that he was getting smarter and smarter, and he could already guess what the little monster was thinking - yes, he had to choose that small road, and only the rare carriages and horses on the small road could better hide his tracks.

It's best to have only one car.

By the time the lucky guy was found out, he had already changed his appearance and was living happily somewhere.

Now, the most important thing is to let as few people see me as possible, and delay the time when I am wanted as much as possible...

'Of course I'll take the small road.'

Mason Lyle tilted his chin up and turned on his toes.

The small road was much more gloomy than the main road. Few people came here, and those rich misers were unwilling to spend their own money to provide convenience to others.

As a result, the road became increasingly deserted.

When humans are excluded from the family by nature, everything we see will become more subject to another cold and absolute order: those with tenacious vitality grow everywhere, and those without brains eat them. Those with tenacious vitality grow everywhere, and those with greed and cruelty eat those without brains.

The birds seem to be out of the entire cycle here. The thick dead branches form a web-like criss-cross pattern. They only need to keep a close eye on the egg thieves that climb up the tree trunks. Apart from these, they have no other natural enemies.

Mason Lyle was shivering with cold and stamping his feet under a tree.

Cursing the goblin.

'It's almost six minutes!'

"If you can give the watchmaker a correct price, I think your time will be correct now." The goblin sneered: "Didn't he use his hair as watch hands? That would be cheaper."

Mason Lyle hammered the suitcase.

thump.

Da da.

Da da da…

This is the sound of horse hooves.

He looked in the dim light: at the end of the path, a carriage was slowly approaching.

Sitting at the front of the car was a young boy: he was wearing a common gray plaid hat, loose honey-yellow canvas pants, and a coarse cloth jacket that had not been washed for who knows how long and was stuffed bulging.

He leaned against the carriage with a kerosene lamp at his side.

"Kid! Stop!"

Mason Lyle pulled down the brim of his hat and forced his usually smooth voice into a sharp, strange sound that only a person with both legs tightly together could shout out.

"You are alive!" he shouted.

Crunch...

The wheels stopped.

(End of this chapter)