The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 875 Ch.874 Compassionate Malice and Nostalgia

Feng Rushong would definitely not be able to fulfill Roland's wish.

But when he said "I haven't seen it either", Roland's extremely disappointed expression still made Feng Rushong very angry.

Why is this foreigner so...

Naughty.

Please forgive him for not being able to say as dirty words as Feng Hu.

Shandel arrived soon.

Carrying his own small suitcase.

She saw Feng Rushong's embarrassment and told him sensibly that if the name "Xander" was too difficult to pronounce, he could call her "Luo Xianshi".

Rose: "What'Luo Xian Shi'? What' Shi'? What are you talking about?"

Shandel: "A term of endearment between friends, combining my last name with Roland's."

Rose: "Do you think I'm stupid? Mr. Feng, you can also call me 'Luo Luo'."

Rolo's...

Feng Rushong's face trembled and he turned his head away.

He now somewhat agreed with what Miss Lan said.

These foreigners are indeed interesting.

"So, this Luo..." Feng Rushong still forced his tongue and read out the name of Xiandel: "Do you have a way to find the treasure on him?"

Xiandel just smiled and asked Feng Rushong to prepare some things.

Long table.

Iron shackles.

Several wooden barrels.

A cup of coffee - if coffee is not available, strong tea will work instead.

After locking up the laughing man's limbs and tying them to the corner of the table, Shandel finally opened his small suitcase: it was a rolled-up cowhide bag that could be rolled up and opened as needed.

Various knives were neatly inserted in the pockets.

"…Ms. Cinder?"

It’s not that Feng Rushong didn’t know what she was going to do - it was precisely because he knew that he felt it was a futile effort.

When it comes to methods of punishment, these foreigners are still a step behind.

"I'm not trying to punish him, Mr. Feng."

The woman's tone became solemn and serious as her fingers, as they grasped the silver handle of the knife.

"Sir, you are going to die."

With her other hand she brushed his forehead, nose, and lips, begging the All-Father to have mercy on His foreign child.

This kind of prayer before death should not be performed by the living, by a pious and benevolent priest to comfort the dead lamb, or by a sea beast scavenging in the ocean, diving for treasures in a sunken ship, kissing and devouring the corrupted bones of the dead.

but.

To a madman, none of this is an insult.

Feng Rusong saw her turn her wrist, cut open the throat like an experienced chef, and used a bucket to catch the gushing hot blood. Then, she switched to a smaller one, drilled a hole in the collarbone, and peeled off the skin and flesh along the tendons.

Apart from breathing, the only sound was the piercing sound of the cold blade touching the skin.

As she used the tip of the knife to remove the blood vessels, Rose covered her mouth and left the cabin; as she peeled off her nails piece by piece, the young guard also retreated with a pale face.

Only Feng Rushong and Roland were left.

Unlike the good doctors in London, Shandel did not have several pairs of rubber gloves with him. He kneaded the slippery, juicy tissue with his palms, and followed the texture with his fingertips, searching for its treasure in a warm, slightly bouncing ruin.

Feng Rushong was very glad that he didn't eat too many bean cakes.

"I want to thank Bishop Gary Kratov. Otherwise, even a genius or rising star in the church would find it difficult to obtain a complete copy of the Invisible Art without spending any money."

Blood splashed on his face.

The girl with grey hair and blue eyes smiled brightly.

"That's your grandfather."

"We have our own way of respecting each other, Roland."

The gray-haired girl's slightly arrogant tone was strangely painful to the ears. Just like Rose got the treasure she had coveted for a long time, the wrench changed its name, and Roland saw the dragon - at this moment, she was doing something that made her happy, and she couldn't help but reveal a little bit of her true face behind her flesh and blood in front of others. A gray rose blooming in the hideous and romantic rotten soil.

"Great art... Praise the door in the pupil."

Roland found a stool and sat down: "Bring hope to the vivisection monster?"

“The hope of the wicked is also hope.”

Shandel put down his left lung, which no longer contracted, with the care of an artist treating his statue.

"Organology" not only gives her the power to modify her face like a crow, but this great art will also reward those who have mastered it with higher skills.

for example.

By touching and exploring (too disgusting to describe in detail) a corpse (regardless of whether it was alive half a second ago), you can learn some information about the corpse - this is very similar to the "undertaker" in the third ring of "Dead Bones".

The great art has this ability.

"I feel pain and regret."

Shandel suddenly raised his head, his eyeballs bright and hot as if they had been washed with hot beer.

The compassion still had some warmth, but Feng Rushong suddenly felt a chill.

Crazy torturers are not uncommon, and those who enjoy it use even more extreme methods - there are such people in the Holy Church who are responsible for prying open people's mouths and obtaining intelligence. But it was the first time that Feng Rushong saw such rich and complex emotions in a person's eyes.

Full of compassion...

Malice.

"I think we found the key."

Shandel held up the beating heart in his palm as if enduring a branding: a light grey, almost gelatinous viscous liquid was slowly flowing out along the heart tube cut by the blade.

It flowed into the girl's palm, trembling, and flowed around her wrist and up to her shoulder.

Roland picked him up.

Slimy.

"That's a bit disgusting."

Feng Rushong's breathing quickened for a moment.

A real...magic weapon.

Even if you count all the warlocks he has met, there are only a handful of them that have magic weapons.

A priceless treasure.

If this thing can really teach people how long they will live...

"As for how to figure out the function and cost of the strange object, there is currently no better way in the mysterious world except for the experience school. Mr. Song Shu, personally, I don't recommend you to try it rashly... Especially under the premise that this thing is extremely eager for the heart..."

Roland shook it a few times and threw the sticky stuff on the ground.

A thick smoke suddenly rose up and quickly filled the narrow cell.

Roland smelled the choking smell of the tobacco paste.

The smell that came out of the copper bowl of the pipe was mixed with the rotten stench from Zhou Xiang's mouth.

He leaned on the couch, his eyes as big as copper coins lingering on the water tank in the corner for a long time.

last night.

Something went up his nostrils and into his brain, or stomach.

They breathed together, as if a ridiculous, cheap bitch said she would suffer with him, feel the tingling and stinging pain in his flesh and soul like ants biting him.

He felt different.

Eyes, or every focus on something living, breathing…

Some colorful blocks of color jumped in on their own initiative, sticking firmly to every face, every melon-shaped hat, and every inch of exposed skin.

Donkey Ears sucked the paste into his lungs in big gulps. He used the strength to drain the Red Sea, and naturally he could also gain the power to split the sea and crack the earth.

“…There’s no food at home.”

Click.

The fairy mist dissipated with the sound, and fell from the clouds to the mortal world.

Zhou Xiang rubbed his sore eyes and vaguely saw a woman wrapped in patches.

(End of this chapter)