The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 953 Ch.952 The Suffering Soldier

Lady Amelia was as graceful as Kingsley had imagined.

Interestingly, she herself possessed astonishing wealth, but she made her ideal sanctuary, 'Paradise', look vulgar - without using too many expensive accessories or clothes to embellish it.

Just like the caregivers who come and go.

She was also wearing a black and white nursing uniform, with at most a few jewel lights from the candlelight gleaming from the white lace cuffs.

For a wealthy widow, this is considered "simple".

It seems like everyone has this question.

Because when she came over and greeted them, her first sentence cleared up the doubts of the three people.

"Gold may be vulgar, but it brings peace of mind, gentlemen."

She ignored the maid standing nearby and invited them to take a seat: the office was also decorated with gold everywhere.

"Orphanages are not good places - many people think so. Men despise them, women worry about them. Are the children living well here? Their origins, their future, their past, their future - I can't count how many different questions I have heard..."

"But since the gold, gentlemen, the annoying flies have never appeared again."

A very simple truth.

Most foster carers (most of them) worry about their children - is he eating well here? Is he sick? Is he well taken care of? Is the caregiver kind?

She gives a large sum of money to the orphanage every month.

Is it spent in the right place?

In the future, if there is adoption, will it be a good place for children?
These questions will gradually twist and mutate in rumors, turning into cruel and vicious rumors - and those poor and silly girls whose water bags are pierced by romance will certainly find it difficult to distinguish the truth from the falsehood of the rumors, and the tricks behind them...

Lady Amelia's action was simple and direct, like a hammer (of solid gold) that broke the lock.

She observed for half a year.

Subsequently.

They decided to use part of the family's gold to build this 'paradise'.

"…Everyone who comes to visit, foster or adopt has the same look of surprise—which just proves me right, gentlemen."

Kingsley nodded. "A rich lady would not covet a few shillings and gold pounds."

—Eight shillings a month for boarding?

——Open your eyes and take a look.

——The gold particles on the door cost more than ten pounds.

"Gold conquers the poor, and wisdom conquers gold. Although I don't like this sentence very much, I can't help but agree with the truth contained in it..."

After Mrs. Amelia finished speaking, she quickly talked to them about business. Regarding the adoption process, Paradise seemed to be much more complicated than other orphanages: This also showed that Paradise under the management of Mrs. Amelia was not like other orphanages, eager to send away these troublesome children who cried all night.

"Every child is a gift from the Father, gentlemen. I hope you and your friends understand this - I have nothing against men, but generally speaking, reckless stories are always circulated among a certain type of people... I am responsible for the present and future of these little angels."

Lady Amelia said she could not give her children parents of inferior character—character first, wealth second.

The former enables them to fight against every setback in life, while the latter is used to ensure the winning rate of the former.

A conversation that fits the character very well.

But Kingsley really didn't want to participate - this Amelia had been glancing at him with a look of 'pity' since just now.

If there is no desk to provide shelter.

I'm afraid I don't know where this will slide to.

Roland Collins.

He was glad that this person was only his 'temporary' partner.

"I'm going to go smoke a cigarette."

The detective stood up.

"I don't mind your presence, sir," said Amelia.

"But I do mind what you are going to talk about next."

After saying that, he pushed the door and left.

Roland nodded to Amelia and explained in a sad voice: "Believe me, ma'am. No normal man can face such a disaster happening to himself..."

………………

Obviously.

In just ten minutes, the stray mare had spread the news of his 'injury' throughout the orphanage.

When Kingsley leaned against the edge of the corridor and walked around the flower bed, the caregivers who passed by would pay attention to his injuries, which they thought were well hidden. Some would discuss in low voices in groups of two or three, leaving behind a series of cheerful laughs.

It's so good.

He has now become a 'disabled person'.

Kingsley had no aversion to talkative women.

Well, he was a 'normal' man - any normal man would know the beauty of women: personally, he just hated dealing with stupid people (Roland Collins was an exception).

He didn't want to waste time starting a teaching discussion with people who couldn't even figure out how to do numbers.

Roland had asked him about this several times.

Kingsley replied.

He wants a smart partner.

At least half as smart as him.

No more wasting time on long, boring and suspicious conversations - life naturally becomes much more efficient.

Kingsley thought aimlessly as he walked.

Thinking about the woman, the orphanage, the golden orphan, the possibilities behind this case, the guard he had glimpsed before, and the cats and dogs that kept dying in London - he did not notice the figure holding the flower pot at the corner, and by the time he noticed it, it was too late to turn around.

"Be careful! Sir..."

The two people bumped into each other head on.

The visitor exclaimed.

Click.

The flower pot fell to the ground.

The woman was knocked down.

In addition to her and the broken flower pots on the ground, there was also a large bag of grayish-yellow mud.

Kingsley apologized and stepped forward to help the pale nurse up.

——She is not very pretty.

At least compared to the women around Roland Collins, they were no different from the pearls at a West End cocktail party and the weird clowns in a circus.

Long and thin face.

A thin, cone-like chin.

Eyebrows are very light.

Like the other nurses, their hair was oiled and pulled in their own directions. But the most impressive thing was the eyes:
As calm as a lake.

Gentle.

“…I’m sorry.”

Kingsley bowed in apology, then bent over and held out his arm, indicating that the woman could use it to stand up.

The two of them spent a moment like that, in which the second hand was moving slowly.

At this time.

Two caregivers turned around at the end of the quiet corridor.

Kingsley keenly caught a hint of panic in the other's eyes.

"...Sir! You have to help me! I broke the flowerpot! And I stained the marble... I'm going to be punished... Quick! Help me!"

She gave clear orders to the guest, a gentleman who was dressed much better than ordinary people, to take out a broom from the wooden barrel in the corner and clean the thick sand on the ground according to her instructions, and then pick up the broken pieces of the flower pot and put them into the barrel.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

"Sir... you really need to help me..."

(End of this chapter)