The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 896 Ch.895 Past Transactions

The secret garden behind the palace.

A living corpse, still gasping for breath, sat quietly on the dragon chariot.

The palace maids and guards were all driven away, leaving only a man in a black robe, silently looking up at the dreamlike green branches - unfortunately, these branches were full of cracks, and the thickest trunk that stretched them had already been broken into pieces.

It was as if it had been hit hard by a sledgehammer.

More flaws than beauty.

“…The East is truly a fertile land favored by destiny.”

The old man on the dragon chariot coughed a few times and said with a weak smile: "The...demon from the filthy religion... also believes in fate?"

The man gently lifted the hood covering his face...

Revealing a head that was worthy of a death certificate.

——Even though he had seen it too many times, the one on the dragon chariot still felt an uncontrollable fear in his heart.

This is not something that can be controlled by human will.

It is a tentacle in the flesh and blood, just like the natural principle that if your pocket is filled with dates it will swell, and if you pour them out it will deflate.

This is the messenger of carbuncle, the beast king who leads the rot.

“My destiny is in my hands.”

The man said in a hoarse voice.

He looked at the old emperor on the dragon chariot, and a hint of mockery appeared on his face full of holes and rotten flesh: "Now, it is also in your hands, Your Majesty."

The two people know each other better than anyone else.

And any ridicule, whether implicit or explicit, is meaningless to a dying man.

"You are right, Mr. Balfour."

He seemed not to hear the sarcasm in the words and carefully turned his head, trying his best to relieve his fragile neck from any external pressure.

He could almost hear the crisp sound of bones turning like dead wood, the friction of dehydrated flesh and blood, the wailing and begging of life, and the bile spit out by majesty and pride.

A person who is extremely attached to "life" will vomit out a whole day's food even if he hears the word "death".

This was the fearlessness and relief he felt when he was young, and he even used it to teach his children, women, and ministers.

now.

But it made him feel a little nauseous.

When he faced this face covered with sores, it was as if he were facing a plate of delicious and sweet food, and his stomach began to growl.

"Of course I can see what that foreign lady is going to do. Mr. Balfour," Even at this point, the old emperor had to act like he knew it all along, "Otherwise, how can I 'distort the fate of millions of people'...?"

In Balfour's opinion, the people in this great palace were not much different from the gentlemen of the West End of London.

Their arrogance can withstand the baptism of fire. Even if they are killed by a bullet through the eye, they will still ask if they can choose the one without the monocle.

His actions were cold and cruel.

When a monarch makes such a choice, it naturally means that he has abandoned his responsibilities and the people who trust him.

Balfour thought so and acted accordingly.

Of course the old emperor could see it.

"Where is the difference between us? Tell me, Mr. Balfour, who has come from afar to spread the plague in my land."

Balfour in the black robe rubbed his eye sockets that were sunken enough to hold a shadow: "I am doing this for God and the world, and you are just a poor creature trying to survive..."

God and the world?

The old emperor laughed a few times.

All the organs in his body rebelled against him, and through his coughs he warned the owner of his body that he had better adjust his attitude - who has the final say now?

The old man wheezed and waved his hands with difficulty.

"I will not argue with you, Balfour. You have your ideas, and I have mine."

In the eyes of the old emperor, Balfour's so-called "God and the World" was just a play that was not worthy of being on stage. He flocked to it because he himself did not have the innate and superior wisdom.

Not everyone has the blood of a dragon.

"Aren't we both satisfied with this deal?"

Balfour said nothing.

He just stared quietly at the useless and 'killed' 'immortal tree' in front of him.

He made a deal with the Queen and crossed the sea with his compatriots.

Came just in time.

The battered "Thinker" cannot survive the catastrophe of the "Eight Rings" - decay and transformation.

Most of the "Thinkers" died of decay and transformation.

This old man who calls himself "True Dragon" is no exception.

but…

Fate was indeed somewhat kind to him.

Someone brought a foreign species. 'Ointment... opium... plague... whatever it is, I allow you to spread and sell it in my country... No, you don't understand the wisdom of the people of the East, Mr. Balfour. Just because it's illegal doesn't mean it can't spread quickly...'

then.

What the Immortal Tree requires: to distort the fate of millions of people.

He naturally finished it quickly and well.

Just turn a blind eye to certain things.

Before the hope of ascending to heaven is gone and the body is completely decayed, the ointment is smooth all the way.

He has indeed distorted the fate of millions, even tens of millions of people.

Now, he's going to do it again.

Balfour pulled a long-necked glass bottle from his bosom: a crystal bottle that had hidden a goblin and contained a liquid that would never decay.

But now, it's empty.

"I must warn you."

Balfour said slowly.

"Once you apply it, everyone who comes into contact with the balm will die."

of course.

Otherwise, how can I change my fate again?
The old emperor thought that this cultist was really hypocritical: "Mr. Balfour. If you really sympathize with my people, you shouldn't perform this ceremony on my land..."

“This is a gift!”

Balfour's mood suddenly fluctuated.

He could not sit idly by and watch anyone insult his God - even if that person was the monarch, ruler, and blade of the entire land.

"I chose you, and God chose you... You should be grateful..."

He rebuked these spiritualless, dry bones, flesh and rotten skin, and hated him for not adjusting his attitude. No one taught him how to maintain the necessary respect and awe for the true God - he must respect their God, and in doing so, God will naturally bring them eternal freedom.

“He is the immortality of all things.”

silent.

"When He comes, there will be no more suffering in the world... False gods always proclaim what they have created, but my God," Balfour raised his head proudly, "only promises what he will bring to the mortals of the waking world."

The old emperor asked hoarsely: "What did you bring?"

Balfour approached the dragon chariot, and the terrifying rotten head gradually approached.

“When He comes, there will be no more disease and plague. Our flesh and blood will no longer exist as the most important part of ‘man’—disease and life span cannot limit those who are protected by Him…”

Balfour paused.

“It’s a gift.”

"A gift rejected by fools. Now, it has fallen into your country. You should pray to my God with your soul and welcome His coming..."

Balfour was like a torch.

But he could only use words to tell these people who always lived in winter what "warmth" really was.

Ignorant pagans.

Those without faith.

mortal.

Too stupid, too hard.

Seeing that the old emperor remained silent, Balfour sighed deeply.

God.

my God.

Are you also eager to come to this broken world and heal all the wrinkles and pains of ordinary people with compassion?

Balfour was convinced.

He and his compatriots firmly believed it.

This is also what makes the "Black Urn" truly terrifying.

They longed and desperately wanted everyone to feel what they felt: to be free from pain forever, and how great their God was…

It's a miracle.

How could you not know? How dare you not know?

Ignorant person.

The foolish, injured hound scratched its rescuer's arm with its canine teeth.

They were already prepared to understand stupidity and be patient enough to teach these injured dogs the truth.

The old emperor suddenly asked, "I heard that the West believes in a Father God who created the world - the Holy Cross. Do their believers also have awe-inspiring beliefs like you do?"

Balfour glanced at him.
"I thought Orientals had no sense of humor."

(End of this chapter)