The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 705 Ch.704 Visitors to the Court of Inquisition

Enid Jutia was very stylish.

This was for Roland's consideration and also as a pre-dinner soup for Taylor.

After all, Randolph Taylor has shown his inclination towards the Inquisition and the Royalist Party. At the same time, as the head of the Taylor family of this generation, he is also a close friend of Roland Collins.

Enid needed to show her attitude and tell the people around her what the relationship between the Tribunal and the Taylor family was like.

(It's not necessary but because of Roland.)
and so.

When she came, all the carriages on the street were forced to 'dock' in advance - no matter where your destination was or whether you were just passing by.

The ends of Regent Street were filled with bailiffs in black surcoats.

They guarded the entrances and exits meticulously, with their faces that looked as if all their relatives had died facing every passing carriage, coachman, and lady and gentleman looking out of the glass window.

It also scared a few children to tears.

They 'advised' these dignitaries to 'temporarily' stop their carriages and wait until their chief judge left before wielding the whips - to avoid getting into bad trouble.

caution.

This is not a threat.

Just suggestions.

'To avoid getting into trouble', the explanation is as follows:

We are the Burners, the Black Crows, the swords that fight evil all year round.

You and your family are noble, elegant, lovers of sugar and cream.

We absolutely do not want this trip to cause the people with the most noble status and purest blood in London to be contaminated by unclean swords - even if there is even the slightest stain, I am afraid that their chief judge will have to repent for half a month after returning.

——When they said these words, they still had a face that looked like all their relatives had died.

And with that face a silent warning:

Do you want to be like us?
all in all.

Suggest.

The simple 'suggestions' they expressed were understood by the gentlemen in the carriages who had been playing with words and conspiracies for years.

soon.

The drivers received instructions from their masters, calmed the horses, and chose a side to stop.

Otherwise, they don't know when they or their children will be "declared" cultists - although most people believe that the Inquisition dare not do this, but...

Who knows.

'I don't want to be a fool anyway.'

Everyone thinks so.

of course.

This uniform "order" can also be considered "chaos" to a certain extent.

Soon, the patrol police reported the matter and it was passed on to the Supervisory Bureau.

The Supervisory Bureau, which has always been at odds with the trial court.

They sent people, but they were all blocked at the intersection.

"What on earth do you want to do?!"

The detectives from the Inspectorate are not as "weak" as the patrolmen. In other words, they come here just to cause trouble.

Come with justice.

"Your Chief Judge is even more impressive than His Majesty! Black Crow, I warn you, if anyone present today is injured——"

The executive officer responded as follows.

"How dare you insult my presiding judge?!"

He was beaten 'bloodlessly' by several officers.

The fight lasted about five minutes.

He was beaten right in front of the eyes of all the drivers and passengers who were queuing to enter the street.

Not an ounce of dignity.

The last time they were beaten like this was when they were little kids and sneaked in to ask for cookies when their father was peeing in front of their mother.

"…We have no disrespect for Ms. Jutia. Executor, we just think that what the Inquisition did today is not really—"

"How dare you insult the Inquisition?!"

Later, after being beaten several times, the detectives finally understood that if they didn't have the courage to fight the court, there was no need to get involved in this matter.

They just follow their own rules, and they do it on purpose.

At first, Puhu Collins was puzzled as to why the streets had suddenly become so quiet. He leaned against the window and stuck his head out, nearly frightened out of his wits.

"You won't invite His Majesty here?!"

Roland said mysteriously: "Someone who is more powerful than her."

Randolph Taylor, his sister and Theresa also arrived at this moment - they were not in a hurry to enter the store, but stood on the street like other curious people, admiring the style of the court.

"Black chaplaincy."

Randolph was impressed by the officers who were lined up neatly behind the woman in the fire-colored dress:
“Like the military.”

Enid was indescribably beautiful today.

I don't mean the kind of woman with undulating curves, who brags about her nobility everywhere but has unwiped feces on her buttocks when she is naked.

She doesn't have to tell anyone 'who I am' or tell anyone 'just wait and see'.

When she got off the carriage covered with gold lines, held onto the gold-wrapped carriage posts, and landed on the stone pavement that smelled of candles and gold, everyone's heart simultaneously echoed a voice:
This is a noble man.

Or rather, the noble lady of their fantasies.

It's not the 'grace' that makes you so bloated that you can't even bend down to trim the hair growing everywhere on your toes, nor is it the 'dignity' that allows you to smell the stench of decay from under your skirt when you dance.

She wore a bright flame-colored long dress and a wide-brimmed hat with black veil falling down, as if she was the first flame that the gods blew on the earth in their meditation before creating the world.

Beautiful and awe-inspiring.

"If I were a man, I would fall in love with her too."

Beside Randolph, the maid holding Beatrice sighed softly: "Is this the lady Mr. Collins mentioned?"

Bronte stared at the woman as if fire was burning through his eyes, and his heart beat faster and faster.

"Enid Judia," Randolph replied in an equally quiet voice, "Justice of the Holy Cross."

This is the appreciation of mortals.

Even with her black veil off and her appearance blurred, she still makes people yearn for her.

And as a ritualist who protects Randolph, or other ritualists on this street who have the same profession as Patton.

It's another feeling again.

They could 'see' that the space was distorted slightly with every step she took.

Like the air above a flame.

'Eight-ring ritualist.'

Make no secret of your power.

She shows her majesty to mortals, and at the same time, intimidates those who are extraordinary.

Puhu Collins was in a daze.

He wanted to pee, but thought it was impolite, and wanted to poop, which was probably even more impolite.

He couldn't control his intestines and urinary bubbles, and listening to the "knock, knock, knock" footsteps, he subconsciously clenched Yam Jones's hand.

The invisible aura casually moved the hands of the watch, as if turning the morning to the time of the blazing sunset. It followed its owner step by step towards the tiny perfume shop, and then, in the gradually unfolding smile, it shrank smaller and softer.

It's like a lion jumping into a stupid, small-footed and weak-bellied cat.

"Good day."

She paused at the door of the shop, lifted the black veil covering her face, and greeted the people who came out to greet her with a smile that was enough to sweep the entire upper class circle off their feet.

"I'm Jutia. Enid Jutia, Roland's boss, colleague, and friend..."

Pause for a moment.

“He is also a guest of the Fountain of Youth.”

Pushu Collins was led out by Yam stiffly and greeted stiffly with a stiff face.

Yam performed much better than him.

She had been instructed by Roland long ago.

"Hello, Your Excellency the Judge. I am Yam Jones, the person in charge of the Fountain of Youth, Roland Collins's..."

She thought about it, faced those eyes that were inexplicably filled with temptation, straightened her chest, and changed her tone:

"His mother."

(End of this chapter)