The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 956 Ch.955 That's good

The two gentlemen did not include Halida in their infiltration operation.

Kingsley said that this time they might see a lot of things that they shouldn't see. Besides, it was better to leave one person outside to respond and pass on the news in time than for the three of them to be trapped like mice in a cage.

There was nothing wrong with Kingsley's idea.

Halida thought he was taking revenge for her rudeness in the afternoon.

all in all.

Halida stayed outside.

——When they found the "missing part", which was covered by plaster of similar color and was actually a sliding trapdoor, Halida repeatedly told Kingsley to take good care of her master.

"I am a mortal, Miss Halida."

Kingsley muttered, bent down, stuck his hips out, and pushed open the trapdoor.

Got in.

Half a minute later.

He spoke quietly behind the wall and asked Roland to kick his leather shoes in.

'Our detective is so dumb that he lost his shoes while digging a hole.'

'Shut up! If you hadn't stepped on—'

Roland used the moonlight to kick the lonely new leather shoe far away.

'I don't see any shoes, Kingsley.'

Kingsley scolds him from behind the wall.

After a few breaths, it became quiet.

Footsteps.

Very light footsteps.

'Sir? Is that you?'

A woman's voice.

Roland was afraid of missing out on the fun, so he quickly said hello to Halida and crawled through the trapdoor.

I happened to meet a woman with a lantern.

Miss Florence, the unlit lamp, the floppy, silent house shoes.

A soft moonlight illuminated half of her body, her arms, wrists, the back of her hands and the lantern, like a silver sculpture that suddenly learned to breathe. Kingsley leaned against the wall, quietly waiting for her to come in, inexplicably feeling an inexplicable sense of sacredness.

Her eyesight seemed to be not very good, and she walked a long way before she could see Kingsley clearly.

'You scared me...'

The girl complained in a low voice: "I thought it was a thief."

'No foolish thief would come here, Miss Florence, unless he was a philanthropist at heart.'

Kingsley made room for someone to get completely behind the trapdoor.

When Florence saw Roland, she covered her mouth and took a step back, her eyes instantly becoming alert.

'Roland Collins, my friend, is a man who can solve all kinds of problems - Mr. Unexpected, in all kinds of ways you can't imagine.'

Kingsley introduced him to the girl with a wry smile.

Florence looked at Roland who stood up and dusted himself off, her gaze lingering on his face for a few seconds before she silently shifted her gaze back to Kingsley.

'I'm beginning to doubt your identity.'

she says.

'You're not here to adopt, are you?'

Kingsley said that was not much of a wisdom. Seeing them at night proved a great deal.

"Why do you always think that others are competing with you in intelligence?" Florence was a little angry: "Can being smarter than others - such a boring thing - add a little more joy to your boring life?"

"Very good, miss," Kingsley said modestly, straightening his cuffs and brushing off the dust from his knees and hem. "Shall we talk here?"

If Florence had been a balloon, she would have been puffed up by now.

'Follow me, two thieves. If you have the guts...'

She turned around angrily, hunched her body, and ran away along the corner of the wall.

…………

……

The orphanage was not completely dark at night.

The male servants who were 'invisible' during the day lit up their own 'fun' at night: cigarettes, or the cheapest, unknown brand cigars with no proper names at all - leaning or squatting in the corner, holding them in their mouths, which flickered on and off.

By the way.

Servants here cannot smoke pipes.

It's not that pipes are more expensive than off-brand cigars, but that pipes require a more complicated smoking environment, prerequisites, and more "parts" - being able to make tea, cover yourself with a velvet blanket, stroke the pet on your lap, slowly and leisurely knead the tobacco in your palms to allow it to fully release moisture, press it into the bowl, light a match, and circle the peak to dye the entire grassland red...the above are not options for the cheap.

They don't have enough free time.

and so.

The flame of a cigarette.

Marked 'danger spots' for three mice in the dark.

Florence was familiar with the route and took them along a route that had almost no patrolling servants: from a small door through another small door, a narrow door, a low door, through the nurses' lounge, the bloody and smelly toilet room -

Kingsley couldn't describe the stench.

But soon.

There will be a 'fresher' smell covering the old one.

Florence, stooping behind two curtains, turned and gestured to them to keep quiet.

Separated by two curtains.

A female nurse was squatting on a bucket with sleepy eyes: her hair was cut very short, her nose was flat, her chin was square, and the flesh on her belly was almost as steep and layered as the waves in a storm.

Her two pairs of big feet were placed apart on the low wooden frame. Her toenails were the yellow color of sputum, and her big toes were spread apart and turned deformedly towards the other foot.

Kingsley tried his best to keep his eyes closed and not do anything immoral, but from time to time he could hear a low, hoarse "horn" sound in his ears.

Similar to the chants that boatmen use to cheer themselves up.

The lonely big-footed caregiver also hummed a song to his own clumped and sticky career late at night.

About ten minutes.

Francis breathed a sigh of relief.

'Follow me closely.'

She waved and led them through the curtains.

'Kingsley.'

'Roland, I don't want to hear meaningless words.'

"Why were you staring at—"

Kingsley knew this was coming, and the clever detective was prepared for it: 'I must say, Roland, if you were in my position you would know that I couldn't see anything except the profile of Miss Florence, and besides -'

'That's good. ’

End.

Kingsley: ...

Florence: ...

The girl silently clenched the lantern in her hand, headed forward, and did not interrupt the conversation between the two strange men.

Until you pass through a deep and quiet corridor.

"…Ms. Pattins and I are on duty today. And the person you just 'saw'——"

Kingsley followed her and replied in the same low voice: "It seems that your situation here is not very good."

'I don't think so... at least not at first.'

Florence's voice dropped a little.

'They are willing to be lazy, and I am willing to learn more knowledge and gain more experience. We are so compatible... I just didn't expect...'

crunch.

Push open the thick wooden door.

Kingsley smelled a different, unpleasant odor than before.

The silence and the smell of dust.

Despair stagnated in the darkness.

It filled the baby's space without him making any cries.

It's as quiet here as a brain that can never think.

'Laudanum, gentlemen.'

Florence whispered.

"I remember it was banned," Kingsley squinted, making out the outlines of the children in the dark. "Is there any strong liquor?"

He smelled whiskey.

'That depends on who's on night duty.'

Florence led them deeper on tiptoe.

(End of this chapter)