The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 974: Kingsley's Anger
In the short term.

Roland doesn't plan to go to the Supervisory Bureau.

He told Kingsley to be careful recently. If he was caught again, he might have to stay in prison for a few days. As for those "secret letters", Kingsley did not brag. It didn't take long for him to crack the code.

Compared to the bad things Amelia did, Roland was more curious about the letter with the word "ritual" written on it.

What exactly is said above?

"Eyeballs, Roland."

"Magnifying Glass" Detective Agency.

Mr. Detective's office.

The long table next to Mr. Clock's nest.

Kingsley spread out the letter and read the deciphered words one by one with his fingertips: In fact, Amelia has been providing John Whittle with the baby's 'eyeballs' - since they couldn't find the body at all, they naturally couldn't find out what was missing from the body.

(Florence's had not yet been removed).

"This time, is it related to the ritualist?" A trace of relief lingered on the tired detective's face.

"It's related to the ritualist of the Whittle family." Many rituals require the use of 'eyeballs'. Roland had to report this matter to Enid: "Your case, Kingsley, Julie said that she saw the 'murderer' near the Church of Justice - if you really can't wait, I will let Halida go with you."

The detective said he was not in a hurry. He did not think that "one person" could appear in various areas of London at the same time, or that an "extraordinary person" like Roland could perform some "magic sacrifice" - if he was, why didn't he choose a "less important" city?

Are there different ceremonies for the countryside and the city?

He speculated that the outcome of this case would either be a boring answer or a huge trouble that no mortal should get involved in.

This was the first case that Dan Budge had officially assigned to him. He didn't want to give up so easily, but he also didn't think he should risk his mortal flesh and blood - there were many "monsters" like Roland Collins, and even with a gun in his hand, Kingsley was not sure...

Of course, there is also his arrogance in not wanting to be protected by a woman.

"I'll wait until you're done."

Kingsley responded, asking about Amelia's fate and her good partner John Whittle.

"She's like a tomato sea urchin."

Roland said.

Amelia was "secretly" escorted back to the tribunal - secret means that the tribunal tried its best to keep it confidential, but when the Supervisory Bureau knew about it, it would publicize the case to the whole world.

"After all, we captured their 'genius' brother."

"Speaking of which, your blood feud with the genius Mr. Whittle began when you arrived in London..."
-
His brother was an accident.

"Go talk to him in person."

"I'm really glad to hear the words that mortals often use from you 'extraordinary' people...it's touching." Kingsley said sarcastically with a cold face. The other side of the world that he had been exposed to was brought to him by Roland Collins.

Obviously.

The great detective couldn't accept that a ritual actually required the use of 'baby's eyeballs'——

"The ritualists of the Ring of Eternal Silence also use intact babies, Kingsley, and that is legal," Roland said.

"That's right, Roland. If one day your rituals use the 'heart of the poor'... then the whole empire will probably thank you - why do we still need places like workhouses?"

Roland shrugged, not thinking there was anything wrong with it.

however.

His behavior only made Kingsley even angrier.

"Grave robbers will be hanged, Roland. Do you think this is reasonable? Destroying other people's tombs for money should be punished most severely, right? However, ritualists can openly buy and sell babies... and even organs of various races..."

“It’s actually legal.”

Kingsley's anger was not directed at Roland.

He picked up the empty mahogany box next to him and shook out a lot of wood chips.

As for this box that collected medals, pens, small notebooks or slippery goat intestines, no matter what it was used for, it is now just a worm-eaten and tattered "junk". The box is not careless or ungrateful, but when the worms in this tattered box are shameless and gnaw on the wood day and night, no matter how much the box values ​​the collection inside, it will all end up the same.

"It's a shame that the rulers of this country allow such absurd things..."

What's even more annoying is that his friend, Roland Collins, thinks there's 'nothing wrong' with the matter.

Roland chuckled: "If it weren't for me, you might not be able to leave the Inspectorate safely - Kingsley, have you ever eaten glass?"

he asked suddenly.

"…What?" The detective frowned.

"I said, 'Glass.'

Roland tapped the table with his index finger, pulled out a few documents from the pile, and flipped through them boredly: "Glass that looks like broken sand. We call it 'pain and itch'."

He said.

Kingsley was silent.

"When I was young, the directors often used 'pain and itch' to punish disobedient children - 'disobedience' refers to children who do not obey the directors' orders and go to the small office or any place they specify to learn how to be happy..."

His fingertips drew circles on the shiny black tabletop.

It was soft and dry, and the process repeated itself without making any sound.

Kingsley looked at the circle.

"of course."

Roland said.

Two sheets were flipped over.

"Sometimes, this is a 'reward' - crushed white bread, or mixed with something I can't describe here... this kind of 'pain and itch' is a reward, Kingsley."

Even if it is mixed with glass sand, white bread is still a rare delicacy.

in this world.

Some people particularly enjoy watching 'pain'.

Just like the newsboys Roland had seen who abused cats and dogs, and just like the directors of the workhouse.

To them, the creatures of the workhouse were no more noble than cats and dogs.

This is a double level of 'release'.

"They lay on the ground like dogs, gnawing at the bread mixed with mud and phlegm with their tongues or teeth. Then, like noble swans, they raised their heads high and scratched their necks desperately..."

"If you're lucky enough and the directors are in a good mood, the itch won't be fatal."

Kingsley stared at the circle.

A circle repeating over and over on the desktop.

Roland couldn't answer him why what the ritualists did was not illegal, just as Kingsley couldn't answer Roland when the managers of the workhouse would go to hell.

The detective's keen intuition was shouting loudly in his head.

It says: Don't ask questions.

Like the piece of bread crushed in the mud.

"I think...leaving my family, my gilded cradle, and coming to London to be a detective...is the best choice I have made." Kingsley lowered his eyes, "Although...I still have my opinion, Roland."

The circle stopped.

"No one is going to change your mind, Kingsley. We are friends, not members of the Camarilla and the Grey Party. As for the problem of the Ritualist, I think it can only be left to the Ritualist to solve - frankly, I don't much want to talk about this with you... more than Miss Florence. I think another topic is more interesting."

Speaking of Florence, Kingsley's next words surprised Roland even more.

(End of this chapter)