The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 713 Ch.712 Manuscript
Roland didn't have to cause this trouble.

A few days ago.

Someone invited him to practice piano at the Art Association.

It was still the piano room that belonged to Louis Hyman alone - or rather the extremely luxurious lounge.

After not seeing it for a few days, a lifelike stuffed stag appeared in the room.

The man had tied up his red hair into a wide waterfall. He was wearing a shirt and a gray vest, unwrinkled gray-patterned pants, and a pendant that looked like a musical note was still hanging from his earlobe.

Holding the red wine glass lazily.

"It's been a long time since we last met."

Louis Hyman entertained Roland warmly, personally refilled his tea, checked his progress, and played a piece for him.

Just like real friends.

"Don't you miss me, Roland?"

This ambiguous tone and words make people uncomfortable.

Roland frowned. He was not Rupert Benevento.

"I think we should get down to business, Mr. Heyman. You should know that some people have been restless recently and have caused some serious crimes."

Louis Hyman certainly knew what "Pearl" was.

He even tried it himself.

"Right in my ear, Roland. I put it in, lying naked on the velvet, and quietly feel it pass through the crack of my ear canal, and the soft, feathery tentacles gently caress the secret place that is hard to reach..."

When he saw Roland, he flew around him happily like a bird, the heels of his leather boots kissing the cross-grained wooden boards, making a drumbeat that was sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

"It makes me sad, Roland."

Louis Heyman lamented.

"In my ears, in my brain, in the thin slices of my soul I am sad."

"It says: Son of a bitch."

"It insults me and praises me like this."

He waved the lace on his cuffs like a conductor, like spring water flowing through cracks in rocks, sending every imperceptible sigh and rise and fall in the sound to the place he was aiming at - he turned around Roland like this, and then went to the back of the curved chair and whispered to the back of Roland's head.

“…I pulled it out, almost, just a little bit, and I was almost hooked on it.”

Louis Heyman was in high spirits.

"I almost thought I was willing to do it. It became an addiction, it was killing me, and I wanted to swallow my soul..."

His voice rose and fell, like a lonely singer on a dark stage.

"…Then."

He paused for a moment.

"I pulled it out and put it into the ear of a newborn baby. The soft little ear, with a gentle flick and a roll, it took root inside..."

"Guess, Roland. Guess, guess quickly!"

"What happened to the baby?!"

He became more and more excited as he spoke. He flew around to the front, staring at Roland's face with his bloodshot eyes, trying to force him to tell him the horrifying answer!

"Guess! Guess! Quick!"

Click.

The metal hammer interrupted the madness.

Roland rested his wrist on his knee, raised the muzzle of the Spider Kiss, and pointed it at the excited red-haired man.

"If you like brains, you can just rip open his skull. I've seen too many dead babies, Mr. Hyman. Newborns are tough, but it's just right for you."

Roland was a little impatient. His golden eyes narrowed and he yawned. "Yesterday, I was trying to catch that crazy woman who used pearls, and my pants were covered in shit... I'm very busy, Mr. Heyman."

Louis Heyman moved the corners of his mouth.

Eyeballs move downward.

He silently moved away the leg that was close to Roland.

Roland: ...

"Obviously, I can't come to meet you with shit-stained pants, Mr. Hyman."

Louis Heyman shrugged, held the muzzle of the gun, and slowly moved it away.

"That's not necessarily true, Roland. I heard that you executives don't care much about 'details' - oh, and I also ordered your perfume, wait a minute."

He quickly fled to the other end of the room, selected a bottle from the drawer, opened the lid, and sprayed the amount of the Thames River into the air.

"Worse than shit." Roland fanned his hands and frowned.

Too strong.

"It's better than shit."

Louis smiled brightly: "I just missed you so much, my good friend - someone who should always be my friend, right?"

"We probably can't be friends, Mr. Heyman. There are too many crazy people around me."

"Maybe you are the one who attracts these people?" Louis Hyman walked around nonchalantly and sat down - but still stayed away from Roland.

"Isn't it what you want to invite you here, Roland Collins? The answer you want to know will soon be clear..."

Roland's face tensed slightly: "Holy Flame."

"Ah, of course, of course. Holy Flame, what a great, noble, selfless path..." Louis Heyman said jokingly, "Let the most compassionate mortals step by step towards the cruel end... The gods are always so ruthless, aren't they?"

He threw the perfume bottle aside and raised his arms in front of his eyes.

"God is so ruthless..."

"still…"

"Human?"

Roland has had enough of the Riddler.

From Delis to Enid.

"Don't worry, Roland Collins. We still have a long time to endure the torture of each other... my dear Mr. Collins." As he spoke, he found that the golden-eyed young man opposite him began to study the stag specimen, and he felt helpless.

"Okay, we agreed on a deal."

Louis Heyman spread his hands.

"I think you have already asked about it, right? No one can tell you the 'price' after the eighth ring of the Holy Flame. Except for me, Enid Jutia, and Keshihai - no one can tell you, so..."

He smiled.

"I am a rare commodity."

Roland sighed, "That's right. Mr. Heyman, what do you want?"

The red-haired man made a joke, pretending to be serious: "Ten years of your lifespan."

Roland nodded, stood up and said goodbye: "Then let Enid Jutia die."

Louis Hyman: …

"Just do me a favor."

There was nothing he could do with this man.

"It's been a big deal lately, you know that," Louis compromised, "Darwin, the blasphemous scholar."

"Oh, you're going to kill him?"

"I won't repeat the killing of a living corpse," Louis Hyman chuckled, "He's dead. Roland, go to him, I want his manuscript."

Roland was silent for a moment.

manuscript.

"Something about evolution?"

"No, it's a mechanical manuscript," Louis shook his head. "This gentleman is really amazing. His knowledge is unexpectedly wide-ranging. Roland Collins. I want his manuscript, the one about mechanics."

“Bring it back.”

"I will tell you the secret behind the eighth ring of the Holy Flame."

"Deal?"

Louis Heyman looked at the man in deep thought and said playfully: "Believe me, you can't get this fatal secret anywhere else... Of course, if this matter embarrasses you..."

"Just pretend I never said anything, ok?"

manuscript.

Roland must figure out the problem with the Holy Flame.

Because he guessed that Enid's silence was not just directed at him - maybe she...

It cannot be said.

Strange object?

contract?

"I have a question," Roland couldn't help but wonder, "Why me?"

If it had to be, with Louis Heyman's ability, too many ritualists would be happy to do it.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?"

The man with burgundy hair narrowed his eyes with a strange look on his face.

He looked at Roland like a work of art.

Dead artwork.

It's like looking in a mirror.

He imitated Roland's posture, crossed one leg, and placed his palm flat on the non-existent cane that was across his knee. Then, he imitated him and tilted his head slightly to the right.

“We are very similar.”

The room was quiet.

Roland felt as if countless people were whispering around him.

Just close to your ear.

They all stared at themselves and spoke.

"You are like me, or I am like you. Which do you prefer, Mr. Collins?"

"Neither of them." Roland lowered his eyes: "I agree to this deal."

"So, deal?"

"Deal, but not enough."

Louis put his legs down and slowly leaned forward: “Oh, what do you want?”

Roland thought for a moment and said, "A strange object, no, it would be best if it were a secret organ."

"Impossible. You know how rare mystical organs are."

"That depends on how important the manuscript is to you."

"I'm afraid Enid Jutia is very important to you, too."

"She won't die now, so the Darwin manuscript is uncertain."

Louis Heyman scowled.

"You have learned a lot of dirty tricks from your friends."

"We all come from humble backgrounds, Mr. Heyman. What makes you feel so noble?" Roland laughed: "We all rolled in the mud. I heard that when you were a child, you were -"

Bang!
Invisible sound waves penetrated the entire lounge, leaving messy scratches of varying lengths on the walls.

It was as if it had been slashed by an invisible blade.

He jumped up from his chair, gasping for breath, and angrily walked up to Roland, staring down at him.

Roland saw a thin layer of sweat on his face.

"When you get the manuscript, negotiate terms with me... Roland Collins."

(End of this chapter)