The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 590 Ch.589 Private Library
Randolph knew little about what had happened between his parents or the Cavendish family.

Ever since he was old enough to understand, he had been thrown into London, going to school, fighting, drinking and gambling.

He would either go hunting with a few friends, or do some illegal evil things, rushing from the east city to the west, from the south to the north, whistling in and whistling away, annoying people every day - he rarely heard his father mention what happened to him and his mother when they were young, and he hardly ever talked about the Cavendish family.

Randolph was a complete stranger to this family and had no contact with them.

He didn't know what the other half of the blood in his body symbolized, and when other friends showed off, he never hoped that he had an outstanding and praiseworthy ancestor, a family that people had to treat with caution.

He is just Taylor every year and has nothing to do with Cavendish.

Until my father grows older day by day.

It was not until he really started to take over the "Golden Smoke" that he sent out and received letters from Brighton.

It was then that he discovered that this shameless family was filled with relatives who were stupider than one another - frankly, if they were just stupid, Randolph Taylor wouldn't mind giving some of the "Golden Smoke" to them every year for free.

Although he believed that the current situation of the Taylor family had nothing to do with Cavendish.

But he also has the blood of the Cavendish family in his veins, and it's just a few hundred or a few thousand pounds, which he can deal with in a more decent and gentle way...

Until Roland told him.

There is a ritual of 'sheltering' spirits in this villa.

Oh.

Let's say that.

It will take effect when someone dies, and then "protect" the poor person's soul, not letting him go to heaven or hell, not letting him go to the place of the gods he believes in, but only let him stay in this seaside villa...

Three years, five years, or even longer.

Roland initially thought that this was arranged by Bellos Taylor for his wife, and soon imagined a lingering and touching love story in his mind:

The frail wife held her husband's hand when she was dying and asked him to take good care of their children.

The loyal and tenacious husband found a ritualist for his wife and kept her soul with him for a long time - this is also the reason why Bellos Taylor returns to Porto every year.

Get along with that ghost and reminisce the past.

Roland originally guessed this.

Then he was mercilessly mocked by the wrench.

"Is there a hole in your head that that fat woman can lie on and play the flute?"

"Bellos Taylor is a businessman who almost made his way from nothing. He came from a rural area and made his way to London, where he established himself. He founded 'Golden Smoke', which is still one of the best tobacco brands in this country—"

"Would such a man imprison his wife's soul and come back to visit her every year?"

"He's kissed more women than you've stepped on ants."
-
I stepped on...

"Ant nest, I know. That's more than you have."
-
I just think that this kind of story is more acceptable.

Roland saw the rage in Randolph's eyes and sighed silently.

With his background, he certainly understood that some people would not be like the knight in the story, who would give up his armor and die alone for the sake of a promise - but Roland urgently needed a story like this to add a touch of color to his past memories.

He would rather hear such a 'stupid' story than let these torches burn his soul again.

He could feel Bellows Taylor's pain and Randolph Taylor's confusion and helplessness.

When he stepped into the old house, it was as if he was in an eternally burning hell - everyone had a lingering burnt smell.

Just as Rose feared.

It must be said that he had witnessed too many tragic stories before and after coming to London. If this world was really created by the Father of All Things... He was not very competent.

"They want to imprison my father's soul... Cavendish deserves to be hanged. Theresa, Barton, we will take my father away tomorrow... tonight, tonight! I want to let them know the real enemy -"

The corridor in the cellar of the old house.

Theresa and Barton held oil lamps and walked silently on both sides of Randolph.

The master's roar echoed in the narrow and long darkness.

Randolph did not have Roland's "naive fantasy". When he heard the effect of the ritual, he immediately understood what Cavendish was planning - they wanted to imprison his father's soul, and it could only be his father's soul.

Bethany Cavendish or Jeff Cavendish would never go to the trouble of inviting a powerful ritualist to spend so much time and money on an insignificant servant.

Taylor's fortune, Bellows Taylor's hidden, unknown wealth or untold secrets...

They must want something.

They don't need to take the risk of killing a dying person. They just need to take good care of him and wait until he falls into eternal sleep before activating the ritual to 'shelter' the soul that should have gone to heaven or hell...

Their whole family should be hanged.

"If you want me to discredit a once noble family, Randolph, you really have to buy me a dragon." Roland interrupted the face that was gradually distorted in the shadows at the right time. In Roland's view, many things were simple.

It's simple as long as it's not so 'aristocratic' or 'decent' to deal with it.

"Barton and I sneaked into Cavendish's old house and dropped off some stuff related to the cult. The next day, they were all in the cell - it's a pity this is not London, Randolph. Otherwise, there would be no need for all this trouble."

Roland's words poured cold water on Randolph's inner anger.

Cavendish…

What do they want?
"I'll give you the mystical organ first, Roland. As for the rest... give me some time."

Randolph adjusted his breathing and tried to calm his overheated mind.

If possible, he didn't want to cause any more trouble for Roland - if the executor really said whoever was a cultist was a cultist, then the Inquisition would not have had such a miserable time during the lost ten years.

There wouldn’t be so many executives applying for transfer.

Roland was willing to do something for him, but Randolph couldn't accept it calmly - but on the other hand, he thought it was very "normal" and had all kinds of ways to convince the other party.

"Here we are."

This corridor leads to Bellows Taylor's private vault.

A private vault that Randolph had reinforced with three additional doors.

The chains were unlocked with keys, and after walking for fifteen minutes, they arrived at a dilapidated wooden door.

"My father left behind many treasures, which may not seem to be worth much..."

Randolph suppressed the anger in his chest and blew away the thick dust on the wooden shelves: there were many wooden boxes on the shelves and in the corners, most of which contained things collected by Bellos Taylor when he was young.

For example, a commemorative badge, a fragment of a ship, a broken anchor, a collection of poems, or a pocket watch worn by a great man.

In addition, there are some gold and silver jewelry, and gems that still shine even though they are covered in dust.

as well as.

The secret organ locked in a wooden box.

(End of this chapter)