The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 620 Ch.619 "Thugs" and "Rabid Dogs"

While Roland was experiencing another wonderful and sad story, things were not peaceful in London.

"You tell me that London is the capital of civilization."

The young man sitting on the bed was complaining.

He looked at the fat man rummaging through boxes not far away with a sarcastic expression. He was barefoot, and every step he took left a large sweaty footprint on the dark walnut wood - the stove in the room was so hot that it made him sweat.

“…It’s a civilized city, but it’s not civilized all the time.”

The fat middle-aged man bent down with difficulty, opened the cupboard, took out two bundles of tickets from the drawer, and threw them into the sack behind him.

Then he opened the small wooden box on the cupboard.

It is filled with sparkling gems.

Necklaces, rings, hairpins.

“…This is what I prepared for Mrs. Burns’ personal maid.” The middle-aged man sighed, picked up the ring, and looked at it in the light of the fire.

The pea-sized diamond is set in a crown-shaped setting.

Fine circle of sterling silver.

The value of this ring is not expensive for people in the West District, and it is the best way to bribe people, especially women.

“Who knew she was dead?”

The man sighed again and threw the ring into the sack.

Next, pick up the translucent turquoise prismatic necklace.

"This is the present I prepared for Mrs. Burns," he muttered. "Three hundred and seventy pounds, and no bargaining allowed."

The man who felt pain in his heart turned around and glanced at the young man who was sitting quietly beside the bed.

"My life is hard enough, and you always ask for more..."

Hearing him say this, the young man couldn't help but sneer: "If you can stay away from those indecent and vulgar things, you will live more comfortably than the king, my sir, your Excellency, my Lord."

The fat man curled his lips: "No contact with women? You don't let me contact questionable women? What's the point of living then?"

He threw the prismatic necklace into the sack with a painful feeling, then turned around and continued to fiddle with the jewelry box.

"The meaning of your life is women?" the young man sneered.

"It's a 'shady' woman, kid," the fat man said without turning his head, "Of course, I occasionally come into contact with some decent ones, such as Burns. You don't understand, some seemingly decent ones, when they go crazy, are even more shady than the 'shady' ones..."

He spoke frivolously, his voice not as loud as his fat and bloated body. Instead, it was as nimble as a nightingale on a branch, chirping in the quiet room.

"You are too young to have tasted salty dew and understand why a keyhole seems to have a magical power that attracts people to come... You are too young, child."

Obviously, the man beside the bed didn't think so.

He despised the other party's words and actions, and believed that a real man should not indulge in such vulgar and obscene things, or even let them fill his life.

So what's so hard to let go?

"Ahaha, there are so many things that I can't let go of."

The fat man stirred the box a few times and took out a gold-plated card.

"I prepared this for Ms. Surrey. Her elegant temperament is just right for this thing - ordinary people would look vulgar when wearing it, but she is different. It's not the gold that sets off her, but she sets off the gold..."

The young man said coldly, "A prostitute taught you to speak like a noble lady of the court."

The fat man turned his head in dissatisfaction and glared at him.

"It's a rude name, child. It's too rude. These lovely and pitiful flowers grow on uneven cliffs. In addition to facing natural storms, they also have to endure man-made disasters. Aren't they worth these beautiful little things?"

As he spoke, he threw the gold-plated hairpin into the sack as well.

Then, there were two, or a pair of beautiful sapphire rings in the jewelry box.

One big and one small.

The men's one is larger and has more material; the women's one is smaller and narrower, and is decorated with leftover material from the men's one in a star-speckled pattern.

This is a pair of sapphire rings specially made for lovers and sold exclusively to young men and women with spare money. The style is very trendy.

"I prepared this for my Penny," the fat man wiped his eyes and said in a sad voice, "but she died two weeks ago from an infection. She was on an excessive diet, fainted and fell down the stairs, cutting her toes and calves..."

"I told her not to do that again..."

A fat, old man was sobbing softly, clutching two rings. The fat on his face was shaking as he sobbed - this made the man beside the bed feel sick.

He looked away, not hiding his disgust: "I'm so glad I'm not the same as you."

"Not like me?"

When the fat man heard this, it was as if he saw an eight-legged goat. He casually threw the ring into the sack, rubbed the fat on both sides of his waist with the base of his palm, found his hip bone, and smiled:

"All males are the same, kid."

He joked.

"Like the male birds that flutter their gorgeous feathers on the branches and sing their love songs non-stop - you don't think they just love to sing, do you?"

He said.

"You should find a girl as soon as possible." He studied the slightly mature face of the man beside the bed, kneading the fat on his neck, and murmured: "I think you can choose a family that is poor enough to sell their girls. It is clean and can satisfy your meaningless sense of shame-"

“Just help them live.”

His words are really shameful.

The young man beside the bed wanted to get up, but suddenly thought of something and sat back down unwillingly: "...I always have higher aspirations than you, sir. We can't reach an agreement on this matter, and there is no need to continue talking about your 'hobby'..."

"It's a 'hobby', kid." After saying this, the fat man turned around and went back to work.

He picked up the unlit candles on the table, the candle snuffers, the square thick-bottomed cigar jar, and a small jar of incense and put them all into the sack.

Dusted his palms.

"You need to have a baby as soon as possible and stop doing those unpresentable activities."

Finally, the young man couldn't stand it anymore and sighed: "Dad."

He said.

"We are being robbed. Do you have to tell this in front of the robbers?"

At this moment.

Two people stood in the shadows in the corner of the room.

The shorter one wore a mask with curled horns extending from both sides of his forehead.

The other tall and thin one is a hound mask, and the protruding part is not horns, but the mouth of the dog.

They stood quietly in a place where the moonlight could not reach. The woman with goat horns played with the slender dagger in her hand. Her voice was squeezed and there was an indescribable strangeness: "It's okay, two gentlemen, I think we just need some interesting conversation to kill time..."

“You guys are far from boring.” The young man rubbed the bruises on his cheeks and eyes.

Ten minutes ago, he tried to resist.

Then it became like this.

"...London is indeed a civilized city, just like the old gentleman said. It is only occasionally not so civilized..." The girl who caught the dagger chuckled: "Like tonight."

The fat man turned his head and winked:
"I just said we were just unlucky."

“Shut up, Dad.” The young man said with a dead look on his face, “They almost killed me.”

"We seldom do this, unless you and your father are talking about us instead of prostitutes... By the way, old man, your taste is commendable."

The fat man laughed heartily, quite pleased with himself: "I am different from those vulgar people! I trained them all myself, and taught them one by one, and they are all the best coopers..."

Cooper...

“Shut your mouth, Daddy.”

(End of this chapter)