The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 902 Ch.901 Wish
A relationship that is dead in the past and has no future is like a pot of pebbles that will not melt when cooked over a slow fire.

The so-called homeland and the world now smelled like the golden cellar in London. With every slow breath, the nauseating sourness and hot saltiness came to my face.

The person who had prepared to spend the rest of his life hating someone suddenly realized that he had chosen the wrong target.

'Put me in a pot and roast me in the fire.'

She was saved from the flames by Feng Hu, but she was not allowed to ask where the flames came from.

“… Sailors say: I would rather die than live without the sea. You know, Miss Yolanda, I have been drifting on the sea for three months, and the most important thing I have learned from these sailors is not persistence and paranoia,” the man said, “but bragging.”

When Yolanda opened her eyes, her crazy savior was holding a familiar branch and waving it at her to cast a spell.

"Become a pig, become a horse, become a monkey, become a monkey-headed pig riding a horse..."

That branch is from the 'fairy tree'.

How dare he?
This sudden "stupid" scene was like a breeze that cooled the burning fire in Yolanda's heart.

He always can.

"…Roland."

The girl, who had been thirsty for a whole year, staggered. She held onto the cold tree trunk and touched its evenly undulating scaly bark.

She insisted on seeing the flames rise to the sky that night, but the tree fairy refused.

"My friends have some special hobbies. The places they usually live in are as special as their hobbies - some really crazy people, even if they are old, their eyes are blurry and their waists are stiff and they can't straighten their trouser legs by themselves..."

"It can also make people laugh."

The man with his back against Changqing didn't seem to notice what the woman saw in her 'dream', and the bloodshot eyes after she woke up - he didn't intend to ask about such a private little secret. Wouldn't the truth be revealed when she chopped off someone's head?
He was telling himself a story, a joke that had once amused him.

"…those people have no way to exercise the rights given to them by the Father. The power that he was born with, ever since he was seven years old and went to the wrong door while taking a bath and ended up at the maid's quarters—maybe it wasn't the wrong door."

That was enough to make Yolanda laugh.

But the girl still kept her head down and her lips tightened.

She wanted to hear the rest of the story, fearing that if she laughed out loud, the rest of the story would be lost.

“…So, when these people get old, they still think they have such abilities—they have higher, spiritual pursuits, and they preach that behavior that only stays between animals is ‘rude’ and ‘cannot touch the soul’…”

"Find an excuse for the softened cookies. I have to admit that the speech was of some quality, and there are fools who believe it."

Yolanda pursed her lips.

"…When they came to the street that was always happy, the conditions were different. At first, the 'mother' was in a difficult position and tried to persuade the girls to be patient. But after coming and going again and again, there were many who loved to entertain these old guys."

“Simple and hassle-free.”

Roland smacked his lips twice, squeezed his voice into a weird tone, turned around and imitated the dancers with a beaming face:
"Oh, it's a pity to waste so many good fruits and vegetables. If we move them up there, at least we can fill our stomachs... Go and tell mother to give the children another carrot soup for dinner..."

Yolanda: ...

Stare at him hard.

This scoundrel.

"You don't ask me what I saw."

Yolanda asked softly as the sound of the wind died away.

"If you've ever sat by a bed and heard someone die, smelled her decay, Yolanda, you can guess how most of the world's stories end in tragedy."

Roland could see that.

She was no longer protected by hatred, but was also freed from it.

At least.

From today.

She did everything without having to ask for the opinion of hatred.

"I don't know who to hate, Roland."

At first, she hated fate, opium, and foreigners. Now, she hated Zhang Yucai, Feng Hu, and Feng Rushong. She hated them for sacrificing dozens of Lan family members for the so-called "fate" and "country" - but after thinking about it, should she really hate this tree?
Or, hate that she has no other choice?

Too many invisible walls suddenly appeared in Yolanda's world, making it hard for her to breathe.

"Why... do you have to sacrifice us?" She was like a clown in a circus with bells all over her body. With every step she took, the bells of questioning jingled.

The tree is silent.

"…Monster, alien species."

Different terms in the East and the West, but similar meanings, almost indicate that no matter how they call it, fear or respect, piety or blasphemy, once an animal has a power far beyond its peers, it will inevitably become "different".

For example, the artist who illegally painted slogans all over London, writing "Our Morals, Father God and Monarch Share the Glory" - lived in the reception of powder and cologne, and died of the venereal disease that crawled all over his eyeballs due to the collision of wine glasses.

Those are the people of this land and the wishes of all living beings.

No living being cares about the lives of dozens of members of the Lan family.

The reason why alien species are alien species is that they often bring about such an ending.

"I once heard a very embarrassing question, Yolanda."

Roland said.

"A train was going, and it was going very fast--assuming it could go very fast. I mean, it got to the part where the tracks split--you know what a track is, right?"

"Roland."

The golden-eyed man curled his lips slightly: "You are becoming more and more like Rose now... Be patient, Miss Dongfang."

He scratched the bark, his restless fingers trying to pick off a piece of emerald scale as a souvenir.

"When you reach the forked section of the road, what choice should you make as the conductor? The question is: there are five people tied up on the track that should lead to the destination, and there is one on the other side. Should you change the road, let those who should not die die, and save the five who are destined to die? Or, let those who are destined to die die, and the innocent remain innocent?"

No matter how Roland told the story, it didn't make sense.

"I don't have the ability to educate people like Xiandel... I'd better help you twist Zhang Yucai's head off."

Yolanda gave a dry grin.

Tears fell into the mud in front of the embroidered shoes.

"Roland Collins."

The fairy tree suddenly spoke.

"what?"

"One slice is enough."

Yolanda: ...

By now, a hole had been dug into the tree trunk—a hole that was big enough for a finger to be inserted and twisted around…

"Feel sorry."

"It's okay, kid... Oh, maybe, London's apology doesn't mean 'stop', does it?"

"Our ironclad ship has already given you the answer," Roland shrugged, stuffing handfuls of emerald bark into his pockets. Rose would probably like this. "Let's get started quickly. I have to twist my enemy's head later."

The tree chuckled, "I can fulfill your wish, child. I gave your friend the answer, and will also transform the flesh and blood of your other friend... So, what is your wish?"

Roland said wait a minute.

Who else made a wish secretly?
Changqing described the girl who came uninvited that night.

as well as.

What wish she made.

"Oh."

Roland thought about it.

"Not for her."

Yolanda: ...

The series of nonsense words made the already miserable girl unable to keep the smile on her face any longer.

(End of this chapter)