The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 588: Death Shell Ritual
Quiet midnight.

A pair of big feet that thought they were light were covered in urine, and every step made a sound of water.

He turned the key of a door and came in in the dark.

Rummaging through tables and drawers.

Randolph stood by the wall, staring quietly at the old man in the darkness.

He muttered something to himself and looked extremely frightened, but he still forced himself to be encouraged, as if there was a tiger in the drawer of his desk.

Wow...

Wow.

He searched for several minutes and finally succeeded.

He took out the broken pocket watch hanging on a silver chain.

He grabbed it in his hand and ran away without looking back.

Randolph took off his coat and followed quietly.

In the dead of night, Belos, who knew the place well, bypassed the servants and escaped from the straight and straight manor, heading straight for the pebbled beach.

The old man with his nightcap askew was shivering, his feet clasping the prickly pebbles, hesitating in front of the waves as if he was holding a burning cup - he was cold and scared, and really didn't know what to do.

At this moment, the sound of footsteps, no longer concealed, was heard behind him.

Randolph, holding his coat, walked slowly towards his father under his father's surprised gaze, came to his side, spread it out, and put the thick coat on him.

Wrapped up.

Belos struggled several times but failed to break free. He lowered his head and muttered, holding his pocket watch tightly, and went deeper step by step.

He bent down and dug a hole: he pushed aside the pebbles, then dug deeper when he saw sand, until he could dig out a hole the size of a bowl with his fingers.

Put the pocket watch in it.

Rebury it.

then.

He is tired.

He sat down on the cobblestones, breathing heavily.

Randolph also sat down quietly.

"...I can't leave a bomb around a living person," Bellos said angrily, thinking that the young man didn't take his life seriously. "Times have really changed. In the past, no one was stupid enough to carry this thing with them..."

"If it weren't for my identity, I would never risk saving someone..."

Hearing him speak like a child, Randolph chuckled and asked back: "My identity? Sir, what is my 'identity'?"

This again stumped Bellows.

He stammered, rolling his eyes, searching his foggy brain for memories of the pointed face.

Destined to gain nothing.

"You are…"

Randolph didn't answer.

Jingjing put her head against her father's head and her shoulder against his.

In the silly midnight, the sea breeze not only smells salty but also has the smell of stars.

…………

……

The balcony in the distance.

Roland stroked his wind-blown black hair and lay on the railing painted with black oil.

Patton was beside him.

"Master has worked so hard these years."

Roland hummed in an ambiguous voice, his amber eyes gleaming with metallic luster in the darkness.

"You know what he brought me here for, Mr. Button."

The square-faced man said in a deep voice, "Of course I know, Mr. Executor. I am a ritualist of the Taylor family, and I will be until my death."

He stood as straight as a lance, as if his past had nailed nails into his flesh and blood and horseshoes on his feet, a mark of iron and blood that could never be erased in his lifetime.

"We are ritual practitioners, and we all know what the 'mystical organ' means." Roland looked at the father and son cuddling on the beach, his tone calm. Barton was silent.

He glanced at the lush greenery, the courtyard walls and the sandy shore swaying in the darkness, and looked all the way to the sea that was holding up the winding moonlight.

"You know what I'm getting from the young master."

He preached slowly.

"I have countless money to spend and endless bills to redeem. If I want, I can live in the most luxurious brothel all year round, and even let my 'mother' and 'daughters' serve me together - I can afford the most expensive tableware, drink the sweetest juice, and eat the freshest and softest meat..."

"I can have a woman from a respectable family, give birth to a child, and the Taylor family will pay for it to be sent to a school where people without status are not even allowed to look at it."

He realized that his volume was more than enough in the silence, so he couldn't help but breathe a little.

"Mystical Organ?"

“Is he more important than everything I have right now?”

Barton looked at the man with black hair fluttering like a demon, and saw the fading tenderness in his bronze eyes. After the moonlight reflected the sharpness of a knife, he could not help but look away silently.

The waist also bent a few degrees more.

"I don't pursue the scenery of the high ring. I can even say that I despise the so-called "immortality" - my flesh and blood have great power, but it houses the soul of a mortal. I want to ride the carriage of this surname in the grand and majestic world like Taylor, marry a perfect woman, and have a few boys and girls."

"Lord Collins, I know my qualifications and have made my choice long ago."

After Barton finished speaking for a while, he heard a beautiful and crisp laugh.

The young man in silk pajamas opened his arms lazily and stretched.

His slightly raised silhouette was bright in the moonlight, like an impious elf who only came to worship the silver moon in his spare time.

"Go and help your master. I think he will be sick tomorrow."

Roland patted Barton's shoulders twice and went into the house.

"I'm going to take a rest, Mr. Barton - oh, by the way." He suddenly turned around: "Have you found any 'interesting' places in this villa?"

Barton shook his head in confusion: "No, sir?"

Golden eyes gleamed in the darkness: "A ritualist who is always loyal. Interesting enough, right? He is always loyal, and he, his parents, wife and children will always be protected by Taylor... and the Inquisition. This story is more interesting when it is told correctly, isn't it?"

…………

……

"You mean, clocks and argyles?"

Fairy ring.

A strange castle, a spotted room, and a bulgy girl (face).

Rose asked incoherently with two small tomatoes stuffed in her mouth.

Shandel sat next to Roland and made one on the spot for Roland to see.

"Like this?"

"Ivory, Chandel. Pointed lid. Not many patterns on it, on each door - yes, diamonds, with many complex and intertwined arcs inside..."

The gray-haired girl frowned and pondered for a moment, and a hint of light blue emerged from her fingertips.

"Such a pattern?"

“…It looks very similar.”

"'Dead Shell (qiao) Ceremony', Roland." There is a reason why Shandel is called the 'library'.

This is a grand ceremony that circulates only among "Dry Bones" and "Elegies" and can only be used by them.

"Grand ceremony?" Roland was surprised.

"Yes, where did you find it?"

"In Randolph's father's villa," Roland's face changed slightly: "What is its function?"

"You want to ask about the harm to living people." Shandel rubbed his palms, and the small clock melted into a ball of light blue smoke in an instant, and disappeared in a moment: "In fact, the "Dead Shell Ritual" will not cause harm to living people."

Shandel looked at Roland.

"This is a ritual for spirits."

"'Dry Bones' and 'Lamentations' will be used - to be precise, 'Lamentations' will be used more. It can trap spirits and allow them to stay in the mortal world for a longer time - you can understand it as creating an exquisite cage with this ritual..."

"You can call it imprisonment, or you can call it protection."

(End of this chapter)