The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 611: Jump and the Land on Earth
Bellows Taylor hated those Jews.

Especially those in Jocelyn Cavendish's organization.

They are a bunch of misers who even count toothpicks.

He didn't understand the so-called "primitive" at all, and didn't believe that there was a god who could pick out a group of homeless Jews from among all races like picking out fish, and tell them: I created you, you must know the gratitude and know how to repay it -

nonsense.

He didn't know why Jocelyn would fall for such a stupid scam.

Build your own country?
It won’t depend on having children, right?
He did not understand the temptation of "mystery" to the ritualist, the temptation of a creator to his creation, the temptation of an unmastered power to those who desire power -

He only knew that Jocelyn Cavendish gave much more than she received.

For a savvy businessman, this is a losing business.

"This is worth it."

The darkness receded from the face of the woman leaning on the bed, revealing her face that was gradually filling with blood, her eyes like a storm, and her tone that was warm and pious.

Her skin glowed faintly in the eyes of Belos in disbelief, and her slender yet energetic body reminded people of the juicy reeds growing by the river and the ripe and plump wheat grains.

Her shoulders are like door handles, waiting for a young man to open them...

But Bellos Taylor knew.

I am getting old.

There was always a frightening sound of pain coming from the joints of his bones, and the inexplicable pain reminded him all the time:
Your unhappy Monday and Sunday will continue forever.

People do not die like dynamite exploding, but rather like a fish living in a bowl of rotten water.

Sometimes you think you are alive, you touch the sacred places that are almost shrinking and the lungs that are becoming more and more delicate, and you spend the energy of launching a war when defecating, but in the end there is only one grape in the bucket.

Your muscles, ligaments, and those tendons that you were so proud of when you were young have all solidified into a substance as crispy and crunchy as candy flakes. Children like you more, and you like children more too.

Bellos knew that he was aging.

In corruption.

And his wife was still young, as young, turbulent, and restless as the ocean where ships always came and went.

This undoubtedly makes people fall into deep despair.

Maybe in ten years, or five years, he will poop in the room, on the bed or on the carpet, and the whole house will be filled with warm and smelly smell.

The servants, his Theresa, spoke to herself with a pinched throat, as if she were taking care of Randolph. The cotton wool in his body was pulled out from the cracks in his skin, from his nostrils, ears and mouth.

He's going to deflate.

"It's obviously worth it...is it?"

Bellows talked to himself, looking at his wrinkled face in the dressing mirror: the once handsome young man was an adventurer, and now he has turned into a rich man.

"Time waits for no man, Bellos."

Jocelyn hugged him from behind, resting her cheek against his back and murmured.

“Time waits for no one…”

Bellows moved his lips.

Time is of the essence…

"I think your brothers and sisters will hate you for the rest of their lives."

Although he was not a ritualist, he often heard his wife describe the ritual that could open up a gap in history - or, in other words, it could be called an invisible "sacrifice".

By sacrificing his 'luck', he tore open the 'barrier' that he did not understand and jumped into another history.

To a mortal this seemed as fantastic as those forbidden stories.

"Hate me?" Jocelyn exhaled hot and humid air, which penetrated Bellos's silk shirt. "They are good for nothing, from my older brother to my youngest brother - Alan, Bethany, Jeff. An arrogant drunkard, a stingy puppet without his own opinion and wisdom, a despicable villain who is greedy for money..."

"None of them is worthy of the greatness that flows in their veins."

"I took away their luck, maybe I saved them."

Belos chuckled a few times: "From this point of view, you have indeed learned a lot from me."

Jocelyn quipped: "Is it shameless?"

"Of course it's shamelessness, and forgetting one's principles for the sake of profit, and flattering others - as a businessman, this is the first lesson to learn..." Belos was not ashamed, and even straightened his sagging chest: "As long as my children are better than me..."

Randolph…

Bellos's words reminded Jocelyn of her own son and daughter.

Randolph, Beatrice.

"...I hope they won't hate me." "As long as you come back, they won't," Bellos said in a deep voice, "I promise."

He said.

"You must promise me too, Lady Jocelyn Cavendish. Promise me to come back from another history, back to me, back to Theresa, back to our children, our family... back to us."

The businessman has compromised with his weird wife countless times, and he hopes this is the last time.

"If you insist on establishing a country with those Jewish bugs who don't take a bath or have their hair cut... I can contribute a little money... One hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand pounds? That's nothing to me."

Jocelyn pinched the flesh on her husband's back between her teeth.

“…Those are my fellow believers, our fellow countrymen.”

"It's yours, not mine," Bellos said disapprovingly, "I have nothing to say to these ambitious people - no, Joey, do you really think it's so easy to build a country? I don't want to insult your intelligence with words, but this -"

"So, we have to look for the gods who created us, find our gods, and awaken our gods..." Jocelyn said softly in a low voice: "We have the noblest bloodline, and we should have our own land, a towering wall, and a country ruled by us..."

Bellows snorted and shrugged.

It's just nonsense.

"In fact, you don't have to go in person, right? I'll pay you some money, and you complete the ritual to make those unfortunate bugs—"

"Baker." Jocelyn interrupted: "Each of us has to make a great sacrifice... Do you think I am the only one who sacrificed my family's fortune? Jumping through history is not as easy as you think-"

"In fact, I didn't imagine it at all." Belos didn't care about these nonsense: "How did you get back? I mean, it's like opening a passage and you can come and go as you please?"

Jocelyn teased: "It is difficult for me to describe these complex and profound skills to a mortal in words."

"Great! Now you dare to talk to me like that!"

Belos turned around with a smile and cursed, controlled his wife's wrists, and pushed her down on the couch.

He tugged at the buttons on his chest, and under the instigation of those 'tearful eyes', he felt a sense of majesty that he urgently needed to be unstoppable.

Jocelyn Cavendish buried her feet in the quilt, her brown hair loose, and raised her head quietly.

That means as long as you accept the invitation, I will see your satisfied look.

at this time.

The young boy outside the door was being grabbed by the ears.

“…Teresa, I want to find my dad.”

"The master is busy now."

"What are you busy with?"

"Business, career, socializing, future...why do you have so many questions?" Tereza had just ordered the servants to clean the kitchen and bathroom and went upstairs when she saw the child wandering around the door stealthily.

"I don't want him to see that witch!"

Theresa's expression changed. She looked around a few times and half-knelt in front of Randolph. She said seriously, "That's your mother, Randolph. You can't say that about your mother!"

"I haven't seen her at home for a long time."

“She’s busy…”

"No, some people say that she is a witch and is plotting to take our family's fortune! My father's life! She says my sister is a fool and her brain was eaten by a monster!"

Theresa's face darkened. "...How could you say that? Who?! Who dares to say that?...Tell me, Randolph, who said that to you?"

The young master was not afraid of his mother whom he had not seen for a long time, nor was he afraid of his rude father. However, he was a little afraid of the maid who was in charge of all the household affairs.

He rubbed his eyes and some tears came out.

"...Good boy, good boy. Am I frightened by this?" Theresa forced a smile and wiped away the thin layer of crystal at the corner of her eyes with her thumb: "I am with you all day long, you conscienceless Randolph..."

Randolph sneered and couldn't help laughing: "You just stole my knife!"

"…Only if they are toys, 'Master'. You can't steal the ones for boning from the kitchen, in case you hurt your face, or your sister…"

"I'm a man, how could I hurt my family." The boy held his head high, and soon lost his temper again. His eyebrows drooped and flattened: "...My father doesn't like me, and my mother doesn't like me either. They are right. My sister and I are not welcome, right?"

"Tell me who 'they' are, and I'll soon let them know who is unwelcome..." Theresa curled her lips and took the boy into her arms: "Listen, my child. No one is unwelcome to you - it's only you who are unwelcome to others."

"When you grow up a few more years, all of us will revolve around you and listen to your orders... Do you understand? You are the master, Randolph Taylor, the most precious jewel of the Taylor family..."

Randolph rested his slightly pointed chin on Theresa's shoulder and muttered:

“…You have to stay with me.”

Theresa patted his back gently and looked at the lights at the end of the corridor with tender eyes.

"I will be with you till the end of my days, Randolph."

(End of this chapter)