The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 926: Cat Butcher

London has been very busy lately.

Every summer, the Church of Justice holds a month-long large festival in the city: the Thunderstorm Festival - which is much more popular than the Ring of Eternal Silence.

Although the citizens don't like this group of mean people who always think they are right.

but…

Who wouldn't want free bread and 'Thunder Wine' (secret recipe beer)?

It was also in the days leading up to this celebration that Roland finally found some free time to visit the detective with whom he had always been in contact. In his letter, he "coldly" mentioned that he had made the detective agency's notice board and house number according to Roland's requirements.

It means: You can come and take a look.

There were a lot of letters piling up at the Randolph family's house. Even Halida, who rarely expressed her opinions, couldn't help but urge her master and asked him if he should visit Mr. Kingsley - the words on the letter were obviously a veiled invitation.

"He can just say he misses me."

Roland knew who Kingsley was. Even if he really went to the bedroom with his beloved woman one day, he would have to droop his angular horse face and ask a few questions seriously: "Should we check the next steps first?"

Boring people.

Roland always liked to tease him.

"What is Rose doing?"

"The young lady has been grounded recently," Halida smiled when she mentioned Rose. "During the last parade, she went there on the pretext of buying two tubes of 'women's ointment'. Old Tom found her on her way back. She asked me to tell you in the letter that it will be about two weeks..."

"Two weeks for what?" Roland interrupted, "Two weeks to learn etiquette? Or to prepare for the autumn hunt?"

Halida squeezed the envelope and said in a cryptic way, "Two weeks... found... a loophole in the escape route of Shelley Manor..."

Roland: ...

You are worthy of being called the little thief.

He was quite curious about how old Shelley and little Rose got along - maybe, it was similar to how he and his uncle got along?

"We have to hurry."

Roland put on his coat with the help of Halida.

They were going to ride through the West End.

——By the way, Roland called a 'steam locomotive'.

Halida looked somewhat reluctant.

"Are you worried that it might suddenly explode?"

"…It's too noisy, sir. I am a little scared. Miss Rose said that the Shelleys did not change the carriage…"

The 'coachman' driving the carriage is relatively young.

He was wearing a grey plaid hat and a weird silk scarf around his collar: it looked a bit like something a lady would wear.

The frame and canopy were no different from those of an ordinary horse-drawn carriage. When Roland sat firmly, he heard the driver's excited shouts from the front - Roland felt that he was more excited than himself.

"Hold on tight sir!"

With rumbling sounds and vibrations, the wheels rolled forward.

Halida smelled a faint metallic smell.

The journey was relatively smooth.

"It won't be more expensive than an ordinary carriage, right?"

Because it was a convertible, Roland could use a normal volume so that the young man in front could hear it - even if the machine was rumbling.

"How could that be? We received subsidies."

"subsidy?"

"Two pennies more a day, sir. Daniel Workshop and Rosalind Saint College will pay for it. As long as we write down the advantages and disadvantages of this thing and talk about it in detail when the time comes - to be honest, it's much more obedient than Marco." Only a few lucky and "willing to surrender to the enemy" "traitors" are qualified to use this machine...

Most drivers are ashamed of it.

"The future belongs to the young, sir. Just like you, just like me, just like this young lady. If you ask me, the old-fashioned ideas should have been phased out long ago: How long does it take for a horse to be able to pull a cart from birth? It will get sick, old, and injured..."

Roland understood and continued, "The machine can't."

"That's right! Machines can only go wrong - but if you solve the same problem once, will it be a problem again next time?"

This young man is very clever.

"But once the horses are out of work, I'm afraid the cats in London will be in trouble..." He made a joke and reminded Roland.

"Stop at the crossroads."

He was going to bring Kingsley some bags of horse meat—

Speaking of horse meat, we have to mention another major feature of the Empire besides the window knockers: cat meat vendors (when talking about such "features", we can't mention priests.)
It's not the 'cat meat seller', it's the 'cat-loving meat seller'.

simply put.

Pet food.

These people would wear gray old-fashioned tweed suits, round-brimmed tweed hats, push a cart that looked like a child's coffin, or wear an apron and soft corduroy trousers - depending on their dress code and personal economic level.

(Generally speaking, the more refined a person's attire is, the more likely they are to be single.)
The words CATS&DOGS will be written on the car, and depending on your artistic level, MEAT will be written underneath the red paste.

They set out in the early morning, pushing carts filled with cheap offal and horse meat between houses and streets, shouting "CAT——DOG——MEAT——"

Young boys who are brought out by their fathers to "follow in his father's footsteps" usually speak with clear pronunciation.

The old vendors are much lazier.

From 'CAT——DOG——MEAT——' to 'CA——DOE——MEE——'

Kadoumi Kadoumi shouted all the way, crossing the cross streets and circling the edge of the West District. The hawking sound was the signal - of course, some big customers would make reservations in advance, or pay by week or month.

They would put the horse meat on skewers into cardboard bags or woven baskets and give the portion to the wealthy first.

As for why the horse meat trade has turned into a cat meat trader...

This is a common occurrence.

Because when they start hawking their wares on the street, within a few minutes a large group of cats will gather around: some are fixed street bullies, while others are vagrants.

Often at this time, these low-class and rough people, butchers, and poor fellows who were despised by the nobles and could not afford a carriage in their entire lives would reach into their own "children's coffins", stroke the edges and make two circles: scoop out some minced meat and sprinkle it on the ground for these cunning and enchanting wandering little monsters to feast on.

Cat's protector, special friend.

And if you are lucky enough to see it: in London after it has rained, or in London when the roads are frozen in deep winter, you will often see these cat meat vendors knocked down and their carts accidentally overturned.

At this time, the usually cute and harmless furry creature will immediately transform into a fierce and scary predator in the jungle.

They have no intention of paying.

Never.

But the cat butcher is not angry.

They hang out with these little monsters, whether they are stray cats or dogs - poor people with good hearts.

It is up to you to focus on the first word or the last word.

Roland was frightened by such stories when he was a child.

Yam said that the cat meat vendor was a cat meat seller, and he bought him a small portion on his birthday one year - it was rough and dry.

Later he found out that it was horse meat.

Yam still teases Roland, saying that his face looked like a sick little toad.

(End of this chapter)