The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 952: War Hero Kingsley

The procedure for adopting a baby was not complicated (Roland and Kingsley discussed it again and again, and still believed that "adoption" was easier to disguise than "foster care"). All you had to do was tick on a form, write down your requirements, and indicate your approximate occupation, income, and family background.

But before that, Roland would first praise the vulgarity and luxury of this orphanage.

gold.

There is gold everywhere.

Gold visible to the naked eye.

Unlike the Taylors, who used gold to exchange for treasures as lampshades or "inconspicuous decorations", this orphanage called "Paradise" was much more naked in showing off its owner's wealth:
Everywhere there are wallpapers sewn with gold thread, murals painted with gold ink, lampshades made of cicada-wing-like gold foil, and wall panels inlaid with gold-embossed floral patterns.

Gold, gold.

Everywhere.

Even the most caustic critic can only mock the host's vulgarity and acknowledge her wealth.

It’s a more visually striking decor than the Taylor’s.

The caregivers who came and went were used to it, but Kingsley and Roland were like apprentices who had just entered a dream, their eyes never stopped moving.

"Did you see that? The hats on the nurses' heads are all made of gold thread."

It seems that what the newspaper said is true.

Regardless of whether this lady's bloodline is as noble as claimed, at least, she is not lying about her 'wealth'.

Kingsley noticed the teapot with its gilt handle, the high-rimmed round tumbler for matches and ashtrays, the golden candlesticks, the curved corners of the table covered with soft gold.

The carpet also used gold thread.

They seemed to have entered the palace of the sun, a magnificent residence.

"Good day, gentlemen."

The female nurse was wearing a not-so-simple black silk robe that revealed the lace folds on the cuffs and collar. Her hair was parted on both sides and greased to make it shiny.

She used a crinoline and hip pads, and as she swayed, she looked like a mare calling for her owner to ride her.

Kingsley's eyes flickered.

Although there is nothing to be picky about the style of the gown, caregivers usually do not use crinolines or hip pads.

You can understand it if you think about it.

Being a carer, you will never put yourself in a situation where you find it difficult to act.

"Good day, ma'am."

Roland tapped his cane and began to talk about the weather, the summer wind, the festivals in London, and the interesting things that had happened recently - the kind that everyone knows.

The nurse was obviously more interested in Roland than Kingsley.

They talked as they walked, and after a few rounds, she put her arm around Roland and began to hug him.

Kingsley felt that his friend should be a spy.

Going deep behind enemy lines and sacrificing one's body in exchange for intelligence... that kind of work.

Maybe.

Flower Street is also fine.

"...Sir, you are so humorous...If I were a few years younger, I would have stayed by your window and sang for you all night..."

A silly joke.

Kingsley grumbled to himself.

The nurse obviously didn't find it funny, he just looked at the face.

How hypocritical.

"Singing? How can I let a lady stay with me all night... Oh, are you afraid that someone else will get there first?"

The nurse giggled non-stop, and with her swaying skirt, she pushed the silent Halida further away from the other side - the maid had no objection to this. She didn't think such an 'ordinary' woman could enter Mr. Roland Collins's eyes.

Kingsley coughed impatiently, suggesting that Roland should get to the point.

They were walking down the promenade, past the flower beds.

Roland glanced at him.

"I'm here for my friend, ma'am." Roland gently pulled the nurse's arm forward and whispered, "He is a soldier who has dedicated half his life to the empire. Have you heard about the previous 'unsuccessful' war?"

The nurse blinked, looked at Roland, and then turned to Kingsley, who had a stern face and remained silent.

A little thinner.

He really looked like the soldier she had imagined: sharp-edged and taciturn.

"Alas. My poor and respectable friend, he was as brave as His Majesty expected under the bombardment - whether facing the reinforced stone walls or the fierce enemies, this fearless man never retreated for a second..."

The female nurse clutched the lace knot around her chest, as if she was also brought into the thrilling story with the roar of gunfire.

"and then?"

she asked. "Give me permission… Ma'am."

Roland raised his hand, took out a handkerchief from his front pocket, and touched the corners of his eyes in a pretentious manner.

"I'm afraid I can't hold back my tears."

Mr. Golden Eyes's accent took on a strong nasal tone.

He felt pity for his friend who dared to fight a brown bear, crocodile or tiger with his bare hands, and questioned the person sitting on the dome why such a brave, loyal and kind person ended up like this.

then.

The nurse became even more curious.

"What happened, sir?"

She couldn't get an answer from Roland, so she looked at Kingsley beside her.

Kingsley: ?

how could I know?

I've never been to a battlefield.

"…His soul is stained with the colors of the Imperial flag, ma'am. I had a bad feeling about this before he left London…The Empire should be proud of him."

Roland sniffed and muttered.

"He should have a child, or at least adopt one. I read about the "Paradise" in the newspaper - assuming that Mrs. Amelia really brings happiness to the children as described... I believe that she can also make my friend no longer suffer from the rainy and damp pain..."

The female nurse was already jumping up and down with curiosity.

She walked unsteadily, like a horse at a certain stage, swaying from side to side, and making waves of bewitching calls from her throat.

Roland wiped his tears again, and waited until the woman beside him could no longer hold back her tears before he slowly spoke:
"...He, my friend, Mr. Kingsley was injured... A place where humans can reproduce... Otherwise... why would he come here..."

The female nurse covered her mouth and her eyes widened like a cannonball.

Kingsley: ...

He knew it would be like this.

No.

He hadn't guessed it would be like this, but considering how much of a jerk Roland Collins was, the story couldn't be any better - couldn't someone just give him a few good smacks?

"Oh my god..."

The nurse's exclamation interrupted Kingsley's thoughts.

"So, the rainy, wet pain..."

She pulled Roland's arm, and the two of them moved some distance away from Kingsley:

"Is it leakage?"

asked quietly.

Kingsley: ...

This corridor is only wide enough for four or five people.

I can hear it.

"Madam, as a friend of the hero, I cannot reveal this to you any more - not unholy. To be honest, I am proud of him..."

As Roland spoke, he choked up again.

"But really... this is really... for a young gentleman... it is really..."