The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 594: Fried Shrimp
"That's great, Roland Collins. Miss Hayon and I have been looking for you for ten minutes - and here you are looking at a group of newsboys and a cat that is about to be strangled?"

Randolph was sweating all over, but the woman next to him was still cool.

He leaned over and took a peek into the alley through the gap left by Roland:
Four or five idle newsboys were fiddling with a palm-sized cat - it had a pair of green eyes, was skinny, almost skinny, and had a thin layer of small wool curls on its pink flesh, which no servant, no matter how harsh, would have any objection to.

From the bridge of its nose to its belly it is all white, while above the dividing line it is black-gray.

like...

A quirky woolly cow.

However, the cat is not in good condition.

It was trapped in a corner, tied by a thin rope around its neck and hung on a horizontal wooden clothes hanger.

The kids picked up rocks and threw them at it, just like the rich in West London evicting the poor.

Very similar.

Even Roland felt...

It makes no difference.

They also don’t understand the wailing of the poor, just like children don’t understand the wailing of cats - if you insist that two completely different creatures understand each other’s language, it would be as smooth as talking to the prostitutes who have spent money and lit candles...

This is undoubtedly unrealistic and unreasonable.

"This is why I don't like kids... give me one."

Randolph picked up a shrimp and put it in his mouth to chew.

The skin is fried crispy, the inside is tender and juicy, and then dipped in sweet sauce, it’s hard to describe...

"Even if the Father of All Things comes, you'll drool?" Roland shook the small paper bag a few times and used his thumb to squeeze the dead shrimps at the bottom.

Randolph glared and kicked Roland's heel.

The Father of All is so ignorant.

"Where did you buy it? We didn't see this stall on the way back." Randolph said as he leaned his elbow against the wall and watched the children pick up the pebbles. The black and white cat hid here and there, making shrill cries from being strangled.

Roland: "It's at the alley ahead. The woman doing this business—"

Randolph: "She gave it to you?"

Roland: "The woman... was sold to a young couple—"

Randolph was suspicious: "Did that couple give it to you?"

Roland: "They had an argument two alleys ahead—"

Randolph: "Oh, you freed them, so..."

Roland: "Then the gentleman grabbed the lady's hair—" Roland paused: "…I'll hold the fried shrimp for him for now."

Randolph: ...

"But you didn't plan to return it." Randolph's face turned black: "This is called stealing, Roland. If they realize it, it's called robbery."

Roland blinked his eyes, which were as big as a baby's, and had never committed any crime since birth:

"Didn't you eat them all?"

Randolph: "…I ate one."

"When the execution is carried out, I am afraid that there will be not only the robber, but also his accomplices."

"Roland Collins..."

Roland picked up another crispy shrimp and threw it into his mouth, chewing it with a crunchy sound. "I suddenly realized that what Rose said was right. Food that is free of charge is indeed more delicious than food that is bought with money."

Randolph thought about it.

That's true.

He pinched another one and threw it into his mouth.

The two men were chewing the food with great pleasure, accompanied by the laughter of children in the alley, the screams of cats, and the fluctuating calls of vendors behind them.

Cavendish in the distance was just silent.

If it's not...I have to...

She absolutely! She absolutely would not go out with such an impolite person! Even if she looked at him for a second, her last name was not Cavendish!

"So, a cat, what's the point?"

"I have a friend," Roland stuffed the remaining half of the bag to Randolph and dusted off the oil residue himself, "She likes cats."

Cats are rarely seen in London.

No, it is quite rare to see people keeping such heartless, cruel, unpleasant animals - it is quite common to keep dogs, either as pets or as specially bred hounds for gentlemen to use for hunting, which cost more than ten thousand poor people (including their property, if they have any).

The status of dogs in London is second only to horses among animals, and their prices even ranked first at one point.

cat?
Would you keep a little monster that would scratch you or make you sick when it was in a bad mood, whose teeth were as sharp as daggers, that would scold you or disappear completely when it was full, that always howled in the middle of the night, and that would knock all the ornaments on the tables and cabinets to the floor after a night's sleep?
If so, I advise you to have a child.

Because the role of children is not much different from that of cats - except that they can speak and tell you in human language: I want to eat this, drink that, give me money, give me a beautiful and rich woman or a strong and powerful man...

Then when I grow up, I will say thank you and goodbye to you without looking back.

In addition, cats are not popular because of their calls, and the fact that painters and poets often use them to create art with more obscure hints - for example, in a painting, there is a clean girl lying down, and behind her, there is a white cat cleaning herself...

Such a suggestion is undoubtedly indecent, shameful and unpresentable - although everyone does this in private, no man dares to swear with his most sacred place that he will never make love with anyone in this life:
But in public, when everyone is dressed neatly, no one can admit it.

Otherwise, there will be more evaluations of being "dissolute".

If it was any worse, rumors would have spread - as I said before, everyone likes to have fun.

But you have to think deeply: where does the fun come from?

So, this is what surprised Randolph.

"You have quite a few friends." Randolph said in a gloomy tone, "I guess it's another girl?"

"You don't have to guess," Roland said, "It's my teammate, Cinder Kratov."

Randolph shrugged. "I knew I was right."

The surname Kratov is well-known among ritualists, but ordinary people don't care much about it.

"So, just cats?"

"And them." Roland pouted. "Newsboys in London are so busy that it seems like sores will grow on their buttocks if they sit in one place for too long. These kids are quite idle. Is it because of the price of goods?"

As soon as Roland reminded him, Randolph also reacted.

The newsboys of this port...

what happened?

He recalled the journey he had taken... Some people were too idle, in a wrong way.

Randolph narrowed his eyes and was about to ask Hayan when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.

The smell of sweat and alcohol arrives before the person does.

The man in the gray old coat was carrying a bottle of wine, and a short and fat woman followed behind him.

He rushed forward, heading straight towards Roland.

"You thief!" he yelled along the way, attracting the attention of passers-by: "How dare you steal my things! I have to teach you a lesson--"

The voice paused.

Because he saw the young man who stole his fried shrimp pointing at another man next to him:
A thin man with a pointed chin.

the most important is.

In his hand he was holding a nearly empty plate of fried shrimp.

Randolph turned around and said: ...

She looked at the fried shrimp in her hand, then at the furious man.

"…Good day, sir. I think I can explain."

(End of this chapter)