The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 957 Ch.956 Ms. Hans
The tragic battlefield made even Roland, who had seen a lot in his childhood, grin.

This dark space was as bright as day in his eyes.

and so.

He did not miss anything that Kingsley could not see.

"It's hard for me to imagine that human beings can be so cruel."
-
It means your imagination is not rich enough.

Roland looked around at the small rocking crib.

And the little babies in the bed.

They didn't cry and slept peacefully.

However, many wrists and ankles had signs of decay of varying depths. The lighter ones only had marks from bruises, while the heavier ones had pus oozing out, and even the white bones could be seen.

The huge ceiling is made of molten gold as ink, depicting a picture of an angel saving all living beings.

The space is topped by ivory stone pillars inlaid with gold threads.

The marble floor is covered with a gold-threaded wool carpet. The utensils stacked on the dentist's operating table that can be pushed and made of small wheels are all made of "gold".

Roland saw a half-rotten eyeball in the corner of the operating table.

'Listen to me, gentlemen.'

Florence's voice suddenly became urgent.

"Before I started working, I was told that I would have to work here for at least a year before I could go home. Madam Amelia has a good reputation. In order to continue on this path and go further, I naturally have to choose a place with a better reputation..."

The nurse bent over and stared at the door intently.

'I didn't expect this place to be hell...'

'The caretakers were not allowed to leave. The footmen brought food back and forth every week - you are right, sir, I did persuade a kind-hearted young man to help dispose of the body once - but that was the best he could do...'

Kingsley had many questions.

'Why do you have to do this? The odds are against you, Miss Florence.'

'Because I have no other way,' Florence whispered. 'Just as you think. Lady Amelia can give these poor little ones a proper and legal death certificate - even if his head is twisted off, there will still be a certificate signed by the doctor: "Death from illness." '

She said this not without sarcasm.

"They abuse children in various ways. At first, they just killed one or two on impulse. But recently it has become more frequent - otherwise I wouldn't take such a risk... I know what I will face if I am found out..."

in the dark.

The eyes of the girl holding the lantern seemed to erupt with a flame as hot as magma, which was difficult for Kingsley to look directly at.

'They can't do that!'

Kingsley hesitated for a moment.

'That's unreasonable, miss.'

'what? '

'That's unreasonable,' he said, raising his arm and running it over the gilded and painted ornaments. 'Do you think Lady Amelia is short of money?'

There are only three reasons why the caregivers in an orphanage harm children.

Or maybe I'm in a bad mood.

Either for money.

Or for money when I'm in a bad mood.

——As mentioned before, those girls who accidentally had children still had to work, so they had to place their babies in orphanages.

Paradise’s approach was very smart.

Under Amelia's instructions, the caregivers used clever words to persuade those ignorant women to choose the latter between "short-term foster care" and "full foster care" - which also meant that they completely gave up their identity as the children's mothers.

You also have to pay a large sum of money at one time.

'…Poor people only need a few shillings or a few pounds. Rich people only need tens of pounds.'

Florence said.

A one-time buyout.

then.

Then quickly let the children occupying the beds die of illness - continuous death, continuous foster care. The orphanage is like a factory, and the gold flows into the pocket like water.

Kingsley almost applauded the 'businessman'.

but.

Still can't get around the initial problem.

Lady Amelia is very rich.

What I saw yesterday or tonight could almost buy an entire orphanage - how many times?

That was a vast expanse of gold. Why did she have to commit such a shameful crime for a tiny crumb?
She is not short of money.

'I don't know... sir.'

Florence looked blank.

This was also the problem she had never been able to figure out - she stayed here instead of choosing to escape, largely because she wanted to find an opportunity to completely end this horrible hell... The biggest obstacle in front of her was... the reason.

Why did Amelia do this?
Kingsley listened and turned silently to Roland.

Obviously.

He thought it was a 'ritual'.

Leave professional matters to professionals.

"Hardly a ritual, Kingsley."

The latter shook his head.

From yesterday to tonight, Roland did not find any trace of "secret" in any of the people he met: including this spacious hell where the breath of death almost overflowed from the cracks of the door.

If Amelia or someone behind her really wants to use a large number of dead babies for a ritual, no matter what the ritual is, this is the best 'heart'.

It's impossible not to leave traces.

gold…

Dead baby...

A wealthy widowed lady.

The two gentlemen, who were both exceptional in their different fields, were completely stumped.

Florence looked at them and gritted her teeth: "Sir, please forgive me for making an unreasonable request. Please rent a carriage for me... Tomorrow night, or at midnight this month..."

Kingsley didn't rush to respond and asked her why she didn't talk to her family.

Very simple.

Captivity exists only among the poor.

Florence's manner and manner left no doubt that she was of the same kind as he.

If she wanted to leave, there was definitely a way.

For example, the gap in the courtyard wall.

If they could come in, Florence could certainly go out—and when she left here, couldn't she hire a coach and servants?
'My parents and sisters did not allow me to take part in this noble cause...'

There's nothing embarrassing about this.

Florence seemed quite calm.

'They tried to imprison me, and surrounded me like a curse all day long. Sir, I came from Liverpool and I didn't intend to go back in disgrace. This is my beloved career, my ideal, and the path I am willing to devote and fight for my whole life in the future...'

Kingsley looked at her in silence.

In those warm and calm lakes, I saw the same stubborn young self.

'I must look after these children who have not yet been persecuted. Sir, please help me find a carriage to take them away... I don't want to insult your character with money. Sir, please...'

Kingsley was about to agree when the wooden door in the distance creaked.

Florence was like a well-trained soldier. She instantly took out a match from her pocket, lit it skillfully, opened the lampshade, and lit the oil lamp.

He pulled the curtain hard to cover Roland and Kingsley.

Turn around.

He pointed to the gap between the terraced bed and the carpet.

'Hide it.'

She whispered.

then.

He strode towards the nurse who pushed the door open.

The woman with the clumpy, sticky short hair.

She was extremely rude: her steps were long and wide, her clothes were disheveled, and one might almost have thought she was here to serve meals to babies.

'Ms. Hans.'

"I can't hear your mosquito, Florence. Did you do what Miss Pattins asked you to do—what do you have in your hand?"

She did not spare any of her throat, and her voice echoed in the huge space.

"Matches, ma'am."

Florence looked calm as usual. She went up to them and led Hans away from Roland and Kingsley.

(End of this chapter)