The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 637 Ch.636 The previous generation's secret meeting
"Why not touch Shelley... Because it will take me a long time to rebuild our organization, and why should I create an enemy who has no conflict with us at all?"

"Learn to think with your brain, not your dagger," the woman said with a smile, handing over the card. "I remember you are a second-level player. Try it, the answer is in there..."

The maid was stunned: "This is... this is that night..."

"Yes, a magical object that can predict one's thoughts..." Rosalind's voice was gentle, like her mentor and an elder: "Although this path cannot provide us with much positive help... but it is just right at this time."

The maid pretended to be angry: "You are more important than anyone else."

She took the card, asked about its usage, and activated it without hesitation.

That bitch who insulted my Lord...

A woman of inferior blood...

The bitch who tried to attack Lady Rosalind... the thief...

if…

kill her...

The bright red blood spots spread out.

soon.

The cards in the maid's hand were dyed.

"red?"

The maid looked through the card but couldn't see any characters on it.

Just red.

The color of blood.

"This is not a good sign," Rosalind took the card, examined it for a moment, and put it back into her sleeve: "Red means danger - it seems I am right?"

The maid looked confused.

Rosalind was a little troubled by her compatriot's "curiosity" and put down her pen.

"Making friends starts with asking for help, my servant with many problems," she waved her sleeves, "a "secret scroll" who has entered the second ring at such a young age, in a few years, she will be a member of the "Private Alliance" - plus her status. "

"As for the silver spindle..."

The woman's voice was erratic.

"It doesn't fit. Because I found a problem."

The maid blinked instead of asking.

Rosalind smiled and said, "I need 'influence', 'enduring lies' as the 'influence' of the ring - dear servant, tell me, if the silver spindle walks into the sunlight, will it help people?"

The maid thought for a moment and nodded: "If the means are justified... maybe?"

The influence required to level up in the Mirror Path is very unique.

Same as "Secret Scroll".

For some it's as hard as climbing to heaven, for others it's as easy as breathing.

"lie".

Each link will cause a huge impact of the lie.

"The perpetuation of lies".

An extreme example.

If a ritualist of the Mirror Road created a scam when he was an apprentice, and even decades later, there were still people in the whole world imitating and using the same trick to cheat - then, as long as it has enough qualifications, it can go all the way without any obstacles...

At least there is no need to worry about "influence".

But it's not that easy.

"Create", not "use".

Creation is too difficult.

"The silver spindle can provide influence, but not forever," Rosalind said with a hint of anger in her eyes. "I remember that more than a decade ago, these 'gentlemen' were not so nosy - 'speaking for women'. It seems that the card table and darts can't consume all their stinky energy."

In fact, Rosalind realized from the beginning that the silver spindle was not a good choice.

It's just that she had just 'awoke' at that time, so there wasn't much room for choice.

Now, I just want to make friends with Shelley while erasing the traces left before.

Rosalind held her chin in her hand. "That strange thing is not worth much. I am more interested in Miss Shelley than the strange thing. Have you found out about the Shelley family?"

The maid quickly replied: "I will contact the Gold Fang Gang as soon as possible."

"Very good." The satisfied woman lowered her head and flipped through the thin record book on the table.

Time passed like this bit by bit.

half an hour.

Three hours.

Or all night long. The tireless maid seemed to ignore the passage of time and just quietly admired the future in front of her, the beautiful future described by her master.

Their land, their country.

——But at some point.

She stood up inexplicably.

She felt like she had forgotten something and was controlled by the inexplicable palpitations, and she had to stand up.

"Owner."

She shouted, and was in a trance for a moment, as if a shadow was quietly sticking to her back.

The ritualist's perception allowed her to sense the approaching danger.

She began to retreat, the fear in her heart forced her to retreat continuously...

Suddenly her feet went soft, she lost her balance, slid to the side of the closet, and hit the door heavily.

Boom!
The rickety wooden box was just one step away.

It swung precariously for a moment, then fell, striking the maid's forehead with its iron-clad sharp corners.

Bang.

A crisp cracking sound.

A coincidence.

"I see."

“What a high price…”

Rosalind stared at the twitching corpse thoughtfully for a while, then turned her head back and focused on the record book on the table again.

"You inferior race, you really think you have the same blood as us..."

She turned a page by candlelight.

Every page is filled with densely packed names and information.

"Brighton..."

"Porti..."

"Jocelyn's family?"

The woman gathered her long hair, picked up the oil lamp, and slowly stood up.

A blurry shadow appeared in the long mirror.

Gradually.

Condensed into another appearance.

The pale widow stared at herself in the mirror with indifference.

…………

……

The Gold Teeth Gang reads more and more fluently about stories from the streets than the police from Scotland Yard.

Only three days.

Rose received all kinds of news: There are many criminal gangs in London, but there are only a few who can "come and go without a trace" (even fewer after Rose officially "retired") -

soon.

Some of the cases in the news caught Rose's attention.

They have one thing in common:
The husband or the male heir in the family died of a serious illness.

The authorities have never taken this as a big deal. After all, they could explain it as "war syndrome" or use the excuse that "you can't expect patients to live long" - in short, someone must have noticed something was wrong and called the police.

But the blacks did not initiate an investigation.

Since Rose knew about the "Silver Spindle" in advance, she always felt that there was something wrong with these cases.

'To understand the conspiracy, first see who benefits'.

So, the thief who had just received the news in the morning took Halida to the East District by bus in the afternoon: by chance, they met a sneaky man who thought he was "hidden" and was looking around against the blue brick wall. The tall hat on his head was more eye-catching than Halida's long legs.

Rose got off the carriage stealthily at a distance and crept up behind him.

Gave him a kick in the ass.

Kingsley, who was kicked, said: …

"That's not a ladylike way to greet someone."

The detective, who had fallen and was covered in mud, had a gloomy face and ignored the "helping hand" extended by the girl - he still had some memory.

"Why didn't I see Roland?" Kingsley bent down to pick up his hat, dusted off the dirt on it, and didn't put it on his head: "I was just about to write a letter to ask you to meet..."

(End of this chapter)