The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 784 Ch.783 Your Mother's Head Is White (Additional)

Yolanda was 'carried' back to Shelley Manor.

To be honest, her injuries were not serious - she just lost a handful of hair.

Rose was very unhappy and accused Roland of pulling a woman's hair: "It wouldn't be a big deal if you ripped out her intestines or broke her arms..."

How could so much hair be ripped out?

The most important thing for a woman is her face and hair.

"No, I think it's the butt."
-
You are so nasty.

"Your actions tell me what you value, Roland."
-
If you really judge by actions, you should know that you are my most important person.

"vomit."

In short.

Three people, no, including Shandel who came excitedly.

In short.

The "looks" from the four people were undoubtedly more tormenting to Yolanda than losing her hair or getting beaten.

They looked at her as if she were an animal.

Just like walking around the garden with her cat in her arms on a winter day, the little girls and young girls looked at her like that.

"If you don't kill me, I'll kill you when I get better."

The woman wrapped like a mummy was lying on the bed with a hoarse voice and cold anger.

Rose pursed her lips.

"If you were really able, you shouldn't have taken the gun from Roland and left - you should have shot me and then shot him."

Yolanda looked at her non-stop laughing face and silently turned away her eyes.

She did soften her heart.

They softened their hearts when they shouldn't have - especially when the curly-haired woman took them to that place and saw the harm of the ointment, and strongly opposed and denounced that this thing should not be circulated...

She knew it.

This is a nice guy.

At least when it comes to balm, she is.

"Do you think she looks like a piece of white wood?"

"White your mother's head."

Yolanda said something oriental in a flat tone.

Rose blinked, turned her head and asked Roland: "Did she scold me?"

Roland tightened his lips and shook his head fiercely: "She praised you."

"praise me?"

"Yes," Roland turned his head and looked at Yolanda: "Praise her again, Miss."

"Praise your parents' little ** from various countries——"

Roland: ...

"I didn't provoke you."

Shandel was almost dying of laughter.

"So, because of the ointment, right?" She smiled and sat down on the bed, gently stroked Yolanda's satin-like black hair, and whispered softly: "You want to stop this terrible disaster. The poison that rots the soul should not spread in your land..."

"But Yolanda."

"Even if you kill Victoria, this won't stop."

Yolanda turned her head sharply and looked directly at Shandel, her dark pupils like a sun that no longer shone.

"This is a warning."

she says.

"As long as the trade in balm continues, there will be a steady stream of people crossing the sea... From your kings to your ministers and people - we will kill them all... until you stop."

Xiandel laughed: "Is there such a good thing?"

Rose behind her nodded like Roland Mouse: "It's really cool..."

Yolanda: ?

Are these people mentally ill?

"I mean, we're going to kill your queen, her ministers, and her people. Including you."

"Ok."

Shandel nodded, responded casually, picked up the porcelain bowl and scooped a spoonful of soup.

"Drink a sip."

“…I don’t need any help from foreigners.”

"what--"

Yolanda: ...

She suddenly thought, if this country was full of people like this...

Just wait a few years.

They destroyed themselves.

"You can't kill anyone, Yolanda." After Cinder fed Yolanda a whole bowl of soup with all the strength he could muster to kill a tiger, he took out a handkerchief and wiped the corners of her mouth - her bruised lips and bleeding gums.

"You're not even a ritualist."

Finally, we come to the question that puzzles the other three the most.

Roland, Rose, and even Halida were all puzzled: if it was an assassination, it must have been done by a ritualist.

It should be at least high ring.

Sending a mortal will not serve any purpose other than showing off one's own wit and humor.

"Because they can't be ritualists."

Shandel smiled sarcastically.

"This child's country does not allow commoners to become ritualists."

"Child? I could have married a long time ago. If it weren't for the young lady's--" Yolanda glared at Shandel and blurted out something before realizing that she had missed something.

She fell silent and stopped talking.

…………

……

"So, just a dumb Avenger?"

After Yolanda fell into a deep sleep, the four of them gathered around the dining table in the living room, eating and talking.

Rose calls her stupid because she attempted to assassinate the monarch with her mortal powers.

Shandel agreed.

But it is not because of the problems of mortals or ritualists.

“The source is not in Victoria.”

It's clear that Shandel's understanding of the entanglements in politics and the silent conflict of interests is better than anyone else here... or more.

"As long as the ointment can bring endless wealth to the empire, even if there is a dog lying on the throne..."

"soon."

“You’ll see the claw marks on the trade bill.”

Rose took a few deep breaths. "That stuff is terrible, Roland. How is it any different from the way the Black Jar works? Those cultists are good at making poisons that make everyone suffer together - the Inquisition should stop it... at least, it shouldn't be circulated uncontrolled in our country."

Regrettably.

Roland is a small-time person with little influence.

In front of this vast sea of ​​gold and silver, even Enid is nothing.

“Where did the ointment come from?”

he asked Shandel.

"From India. There's nothing we can do, Roland." Shandel held his chin with his hand, swinging the shiny silver fork in his hand. "It's the source of laudanum, coming across the sea, processed in local factories and sold - at least that's the case with the ointment and laudanum circulated in London."

She glanced at her lover.

"Were you persuaded by Vansittart?"

Rose was furious: "What do you mean by 'convinced by me'? If it's a good thing, why don't you try it a few times?"

Shandel looked disdainful: "No one forced them to buy, Vansittart. If you ask, everyone volunteered - do you really want Roland to get involved in such trouble?"

Roland...

Mr.

Halida looked at the silent man with concern.

Even though she had once been a slave, she probably knew how huge the interests involved were: she had eyes.

The city of London was full of shops selling laudanum.

Put it in cigarettes, tableware or candles. It is cheap and practical, and almost everyone needs it - who doesn't have some minor illness?

"Don't make a mountain out of a molehill, Vansittart. You can't drag Roland through the meat grinder because of your fear and ignorance."

"Me? Don't you have any conscience at all, Kratov? Do you know that your grandfather might have used this addictive drug?"

"That's just his own stupidity."

"It was a mistake for me to talk to you about this."

“I hope you can be so self-reflective every time.”

"Xander Kratofer!"

Roland knocked on the table.

"Wait until I talk to Yolanda."

He crossed his legs and leaned back.

The ceiling of Rose's room was not painted in bright pink or green.

Just like the sky over London City.

It is dark in color.

"Wait until I talk to her."

He smiled.

“I think this is going to be interesting…”

(End of this chapter)