The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 676 Ch.675 Flower Street
The spring rain fell from last night evening until dawn.

The road became a pool, and the filth buried in the mud was pushed out by the rain and floated everywhere.

Newspapers from several months ago, milk cartons, small metal parts of unknown use, loose sheep intestines, torn socks, unknown bones that looked like human finger bones, poor people.

Most people sighed.

The men were distressed at not being able to have fun, the ladies were disappointed and called off the party, and the children were clinging to the windowsills in an unbecoming manner, making faces at the servants' anxious calls, pushing open the windows, and spitting on the road and on the heads of passers-by.

Most people sighed.

A few people were overjoyed.

Such as the gentlemen who were responsible for the repair of Fleet Street and other bad and strange roads - the gravel loaded by wagons, the paving workers, the dispatch, and the daily meals.

After a rain, everything starts over again.

If you make two hundred pounds from laying it once, you can make four hundred pounds from laying it twice.

The benefactor is above.

They had done everything they could to reduce workers' wages, purchase inferior materials, and extend the construction period - these small changes were not as effective as a continuous night of rain.

'Nature's power is far greater than that of mortals.'

They expressed the same sentiments as the sailors who survived the huge waves.

Those who travel in the rain include not only those who have to make ends meet through work, but also gentlemen who are unable to appease the angry alter ego.

They carried wooden-handled umbrellas, cursed, and found a solid stone to scrape the mud on the soles of their shoes, trying to make the carriage go as far as possible (they wanted to drive directly to the bed). When they arrived at the flower street, they muttered a few words to themselves while being served by the soft and considerate Yingyan:

If I didn't miss you, I would never come here in the rain.

In this weather, neither the Queen nor the Benefactor could make me sit up from the quilt.

'But you can.'

The girls who were ready to appear had already put on their makeup and were ready to chat with the guests. When "come for you" appeared, they made "touched" expressions accurately and quickly like hunters.

Whether you want to be playful and frivolous, rude or solemn, ashamed or never ashamed, talkative or often sad about your fate -

Their traps are sharp, strong, and tailored to their prey.

It is not triggered by a metal tray, the higher grade smell of sweat and a breath mixed with minty tooth powder and rotting meat is the trigger pin.

At the slightest disturbance, it's like a rare sewer in London, with a funnel-shaped, extremely strong and deadly wind - how deadly it is depends on whether you buy the garden catalogue and who you choose in it.

"Thank you for your kindness! If you catch a cold, I will go to hell..."

The woman obediently handed a hot towel to the man who had come from afar, welcomed him to the sofa, unbuttoned his collar, and poured him tea.

She thinks she is superior to those who do barbaric things in the streets, so she usually starts with a conversation, even if it exposes her own stupidity, she exposes it in a way that makes the men happy - you see, the difference between being superior and being inferior lies in the conversation, apart from the location.

Gotta say something.

The woman recalled a writer (self-proclaimed) whom she had met before and from whom she had gained a lot of "useful knowledge" - he told her that when you flip through a book and it is full of vague sentences and strange words, it means that the book is very suitable for bragging.

On the contrary, don’t discuss things that are easy to understand.

For example, the beginning is like 'Mary ran away from home, when she happened to meet the rude groom' - this kind of thing is only suitable for private reading.

Generally speaking, the former is famous and the latter is a best-seller.

Even more interesting is:
The people who bought these two books were the same group of people.

It seems that all the kind ladies and gentlemen are very concerned about Miss Mary who has run away from home.

The woman was thinking about the opening remarks for today, but the man, contrary to his usual behavior, started complaining first.

"He should be drowned."

He took up the entire small sofa, with his two wet arms tucked under his arm, and the cloth he used to wipe the water stains was swinging back and forth in his hand.

"Drown him, or strike him with thunder."

what?
The woman came closer, pushed open his arms, and pressed herself against the man: "Do you have a friend who has gone out to sea?" "If I have such a friend, let the benefactor curse me to wail in hell forever!" The two lips under his nostrils curled up, and he exhaled hot air like a horse: "Ignorant blasphemer! I don't understand why the queen didn't order his execution..."

recently.

An excerpt from an article appeared on the covers of major newspapers, using the darkest and broadest font to match the author's groundbreaking remarks.

“Where do humans come from?”

The man suddenly asked.

This is certainly difficult for a woman who is busy showing off her seductive figure.

Of course, humans come from women's bellies.

A girl who is ignorant enough and has reached childbearing age, and a man who is brave enough to explore and comes and goes without a trace.

With these two, human beings can be created.

"From every mother."

"No, I mean, at the very beginning," the man said irritably, "Everything has an end."

The woman rolled her eyes, took out a cigarette from the cigarette box and put it into the man's mouth: "I think only the gods can answer this question..."

"Yes, this is originally the realm of God..." The man bit the lit cigarette and took a deep breath, with gray mist flowing out from the corners of his mouth and nostrils: "The Origin of Species... I really can't imagine how arrogant a person would give his book such a name - he calls this thing a 'work'?"

In fact, the full title of this recent best-seller is:

On the Origin of Species by Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favored Races in the Struggle for Life—a madman's nonsense.

Many publishing houses were smashed and looted by devout believers, and the police were extremely busy.

of course.

Even though the "blasphemy" or many obscure and vulgar passages described in it made these gentlemen who entered the elegant genre dissatisfied, some people were still "bewitched" by this book and believed that the views it put forward had a certain credibility.

"This is spreading faster than the disease..."

As a man whose whole family are devout believers, he could not understand how such shameless writings could be allowed to be widely circulated in London.

This undoubtedly caused a huge sensation and controversy.

——What’s even more frightening is that this so-called “liberation of thought”, “calling on the public to look at nature and human beings more rationally”, is inherently attractive to a certain type of people…

"It would be better if we could talk about this in the office, Fernandez."

Roland tapped his cane.

The floor of the reception room is made of delicate herringbone-shaped walnut veneer. The light green decorations, gauze curtains, embroidered pillows or buds wrapped around wooden pillars all hide the preferences of the owner of the house.

From the carvings on the hanging boards to the paint color on the silver tin neck of the bottle.

This color, which is rarely frivolous and does not bring pressure to the viewer, is good at making a nervous heart relax involuntarily.

The premise is that the guests come here voluntarily.

"You asked for it, Roland."

Fernandez took off his coat as if he had returned home, threw it far away and hung it on the wooden hanger.

Ten minutes ago, he gave Roland a chance.

"When the driver asked you where you were going, you insisted on going to the Navy Headquarters."

"I was just kidding."

"Me too," Fernandez rubbed his stiff shoulders, turned around and laughed at his uncomfortable deputy: "I have invited you many times, Roland."

The first time I went to Huajie, I was actually "kidnapped".

(End of this chapter)