The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 568: Strange Colors
Roland failed to slide.

We were led to our destination.

A bedroom larger than the entire herb shop.

Starting from the second floor, the floor was covered with soft carpets, so Roland couldn't slide secretly.

"I'm not suppose to be invited into Ms. Natalie's private rooms."

Roland looked at the quiet corridor and stopped in front of the door with the maid.

Of course, he couldn't enter any master's bedroom or private lounge at will - without an invitation.

He and Natalie are not really 'familiar'.

"This is not Miss's room, sir."

The maid's face had shown some signs of age, but not as much as Theresa's. She had her hair tied up, and the wrinkles on her skin made her face look even more ferocious and terrifying.

Ever since Roland came in, she hadn't smiled, and her voice hadn't risen or fallen.

"Please wait in the room for a moment. Miss will need some time."

She opened the door, bowed slightly and made a gesture of invitation.

The seemingly spacious room was actually not very spacious. It was filled with sundries, wooden boxes, and various musical instruments that Roland had seen or had not seen before.

Except for a slightly obtrusive kerosene lamp, the sparse and bright crimson decoration in the room should make people feel warm - provided that the room is bright, and not just relying on a bean-sized fire spot as a light source.

Roland hesitated.

This is not decent hospitality.

However, the indifferent maid had completed her task. After bowing to Roland, she turned back without looking back, and her hair slowly disappeared at the end of the stairs.

Roland:? -
Why do I feel something is wrong?
"Maybe this is your punishment for slipping up?"
-
You are never useful at critical moments.

"If I hadn't reminded you, you wouldn't have been able to slide just now."
-
Yeah, that's great, I don't know how to thank you enough.

"One more slide."

Roland: ...

He stood at the door for a long time with a droopy face, but there was no trace of a servant. After hesitating for a long time, he had to walk into the room filled with shadows and sat down on the most conspicuous piano bench of a piano.

She left the door open so that the maids passing by could see her.

He was facing.

"The atmosphere in the Benevento family is indeed a bit strange. I remember that old Benevento seemed to be quite talkative?"
-
You remember too.

"At the banquet, Shandel spoke to him."

Ever since Roland arrived, the dead silence that seeped out from the cracks in the wood around him had been with him like a shadow.

Except for the maids who were secretly watching him, the entire building seemed to be sucked out of its vitality through every arched window by a huge mouth. Even in the bright and warm main hall, Roland could only feel a chill coming from all directions.

He even thought that if he laughed loudly in such a place, a servant would immediately jump out to stop him and scold him: What makes you so happy? !

Perhaps if there is any problem with your eyes, even a minor one, you will no longer be able to be a servant.

Those who are born mute should be grateful.

Thinking about it...

suddenly.

The hinges rubbed with a loud clatter.

The door was closed by an invisible hand.

At the same time, the only light source on the table for seeing things was silently blown out, and darkness finally broke out.

They quickly filled the entire bedroom.

But to Roland, it was still as bright as day here.

Right behind the piles of boxes, a figure poked his head out - he was wearing not-too-thick silk pajamas and an open-collar shirt with lace sleeves, his long hair fell to his shoulders, and he was holding a wooden baton slightly longer than his forearm.

Roland silently pushed the half-drawn gun back.

He held up his cheek and watched it quietly as it circled around him, occasionally throwing out some glass beads, which scattered on the ground and made terrifying noises.

Or unscrewing the music box, pulling open the cabinet door, and slamming it back hard, scratching the wooden box with nails, and then shaking it hard. It did this for half a minute, then looked over with a puzzled expression.

Roland sighed in his heart and was about to speak when he saw it raising its baton high!

This is beyond the realm of 'prank'.

Bang!
The baton brushed Roland's leg and hit the piano stool hard!

——If a person cannot see in the dark, he will immediately jump up in fright and hurriedly look for matches or open the door.

Then.

He was about to step on the glass beads on the ground.

He was about to knock over those precariously hanging boxes with sharp edges and splinters.

His results speak for themselves.

Just as Roland changed his mind, the hand holding the baton was raised high again!

"Tear its head off!"

Roland ignored the words floating in his eyes, held his breath, bent his knees and raised his arms, then jumped out like a cheetah!
He precisely grabbed the opponent's throat and pushed it across the black and white keys like a rag. Without waiting for the disorganized and out-of-tune noise to end, he exerted force with his arms and threw the whole person against the wall!

Bang!
There was a dull thud.

Finally, it became quiet.

Roland straightened his cuffs, turned around, found a box of matches on the table, struck one, and lit the oil lamp again.

The firelight illuminated the glittering crystals all over the ground. And a girl who fell into the corner, pursing her lips and saying nothing - she was not even as tall as Rose and Cinder, and was so thin that her skin was tight around her bones.

The face has changed but one can still see the exquisiteness of the past, and there is a silver necklace hanging around her neck.

Besides.

What surprised Roland even more was her 'color':
Her hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes were all an unnatural snowy color, like a piece of moss that mistakenly showed its love for winter; her eyes had an uncomfortable luster, and one could tell at a glance that this was definitely not a natural creation, but must have been the work of a confused and poorly skilled painter.

Those were a pair of light pink eyes.

Without any emotion or joy, he stared at Roland quietly.

She didn't seem to be hurt too much, perhaps for some other reason. She got up from the ground in a few steps, barefoot, holding on to the wall, and looked at Roland quietly.

Roland had no intention of blaming her, nor did he want to get entangled with this strange girl. He poked the marbles on the ground with his toes and prepared to leave. "I came here at the invitation of Ms. Natalie Benevento. I don't know if Benevento often entertains guests here, or if she selectively selects guests... I can only express my deep regret for this."

He paused, came to the door, and said to the girl who still said nothing:
"I apologize for the hurt I just caused you. However, you should also know that this injury is well deserved."

Roland was about to turn the copper handle when he heard someone speak behind him.

It really scared him.

Because it was a man's voice.

Although the other party had tried her best to squeeze her throat to make it more slender and sharp like a woman, at the same time, she softened her tone to make it sound softer and more ethereal.

But Roland could still hear it.

It was a man's voice.

“I found a different one this time.”

He twisted his wrists and deftly used his toes to push the marbles off the floor.

It seemed like I had done this many times.

"Are you also a ritualist?"

He tilted his head, let his hair hang down, and his upturned eyes perfectly revealed the perverse character of the owner of this body.

"The judge of the Tribunal, Roland Collins." Roland turned around, put one hand on his chest, and his copper eyes gradually darkened: "What should I call you?"

"Miss?"

"still…"

"Mr. Rupert Benevento?"

(End of this chapter)