The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 975: The Coming Thunderstorm Festival

After experiencing the orphanage ghost case, the frightened Miss Florence was placed in a small hotel not far from the Tribunal - Kingsley highly suspected that the hotel had shares in the Tribunal.

Roland asked Kingsley why he didn't bring Florence to the Magnifying Glass Detective Agency.

"I am not your prisoner, Roland."

question?

What was his relationship with the nurse? Why should a woman live in the house he rented with his own money?

"Did you leave the 'emotional' part in the bedroom when you left home, and only bring the detective part to London?" Roland couldn't believe it: "She has nowhere to go, young master! We just worked together to solve a big case, and we finally punished the evil, Mr. Detective! You just let her stay alone in a strange hotel... after the shock she just had?"

Kingsley acted very indifferent.

"If she wants to go far enough in nursing medicine, death is like a man's cigarette...if she can't handle it, she shouldn't continue."

Roland pressed his temple.

This person…

"So, you're going to 'part ways'?"

"We've never been together, Roland," Kingsley squinted, "I told her the address. The address of the detective agency."

What he meant was that the other party did not ask for help.

Then there is no problem.

"You are simply the most—"

knock knock.

A knock on the door interrupted Roland's complaints.

Mr. Clock was the first to prick up his ears, swung his tail, and climbed up from the floor, making a low "wooo wooo" sound in his throat.

"I hope you're busy."

It looks like we have guests.

Roland stood up to say goodbye, then took his hat from the low cabinet in the corridor and put it on.

"I'll come see you when the Whittle matter is over - until then, let's put the animal carcass case on hold... If you have time, you can look for Chloe's grave... Give my regards to Sheriff Dan Budge."

Kingsley nodded in agreement.

"I will."

He walked Roland to the door.

open the door.

"Wuhu."

A girl carrying cakes.

Miss Florence.

——The girl changed out of her cold black and white nursing uniform and wore a long skirt with a mallow-colored round leaf pattern. On her head was a sun hat that was so simple that it made people thank God for it.

When she saw Roland, she was surprised for a moment and then quickly knelt down to greet him.

He is completely different from the old-fashioned and stubborn one.

“…Good day, Miss Florence.” Roland stepped aside to let the girl in.

The legs never moved again.

Kingsley just looked at him quietly.

"What are you doing?"

"Aren't you leaving?"

"I suddenly remembered," Roland said as he squeezed in with a playful smile, "There's nothing to do if we go back now, so we might as well stay a little longer - ah ah -"

The slumped detective pushed him and elbowed him toward the door.

He turned around and slammed the door.

Bang!
…………

……

As it involves the Supervisory Bureau, the handling authority of this case involving alien species and infant abuse has been infinitely elevated.

Enid handled the matter impartially based on the principle of "making the Supervisory Bureau unhappy makes me happy" - the result was that the Supervisory Bureau was in an "internal conflict".

Detectives led by consultant Julie Valentine believe that although the ritual is unavoidable, the impact caused by John Whittle and Amelia in this case is too bad - not to mention John Whittle himself and the "business" of other orphanages and poorhouses.

They could all imagine what would be written in the newspapers once the news got out.

As the most outstanding member of the Whittle family, Francis Whittle has an unshirkable responsibility in this case: regardless of whether he was aware of the origin of the eyeball, his acquiescence was the fuse of the whole tragedy.

He gave his brother confidence.

That's according to Julie Valentine.

She wanted the Inspectorate to remove Francis Whittle as a consultant, even though he had been the most prominent in recent years.

And the other faction.

The faction representing the church believes that although Francis, an excellent, diligent and talented ritualist, may have flaws in handling some minor matters, he is a pure and morally noble person.

He is devoted to the church. In addition to believing in the justice and conservation of the "Libra" path, he also recognizes the teachings of the Holy Cross and is extremely pious to the benefactors. Perhaps he is too focused on the path and ignores his brother's evil deeds...

Speaking is:
The church leaders had recently been working with the arbitrators of the Church of Justice, and they were unwilling to let such a small incident ruin their already brief and unstable friendship.

By the way.

Enid told Roland that this 'arbitrator' had some relationship with him.

arbitrator.

The Church of Justice has a dual-seat system, with two arbitrators, which is equivalent to two "chief judges"... Roland couldn't help but wonder, who has the final say?

“Remember Madeline Terry?”

Enid said.

Thomas Terry.

The woman who died in the carriage after being bewitched by the cultists, the cornerman, Madeline Terry's father - the arbitrator of the Golden Scales.

Francis Whittle was his disciple.

what a small world.

Roland sighed.

Enid couldn't help but sarcastically said: "I think it would be more appropriate to change the name of Holy Cross to 'Pig Farm' - there are always some idiots in Whitehall who are not as smart as pigs and think they are the smartest people in the world..."

Roland was curious about what the ritual was that required many baby eyeballs to complete.

“Let me tell you,” Fernandez continued. “That is the great ceremony of the Libra, the Eye of Justice.”

Roland was surprised: "Fernandez, you are here too?"

Fernandez: ...

The bear man who didn't dare to act presumptuously in front of the 'Mr. Judge' could only give his adjutant an awkward smile: a murderous smile hidden in the gap between his skin.

"…The Eyes of Justice. Need a hundred 'pure' eyes…fresh."

Fresh means that it must be taken alive.

He said.

“Whose eyes are purer than a baby’s?”

Roland thought that the name of the grand ceremony was more worthy of applause than the ritual materials.

Eye of Justice.

"They are all such filthy people." Fernandez could hear the sarcasm in Roland's words. "Looking at the name, you should be able to guess what kind of 'qualifications' this group of people needs. The path of the ritualists is extremely cruel, but few people deny this..."

“This group of people is different.”

The captain's face turned ugly, as if he had no idea what he was thinking about.

"Fernandez."

Enid said in a gentle voice: "The Thunderstorm Festival is about to begin. Once the Inquisition takes action against the Supervisory Bureau in this case, I am afraid that the entire Thunderstorm Festival will no longer be welcomed by the Church of Justice-"

Any crown god sect should give way to each other's grand festivals.

Like the silent rituals of the Circle of Eternal Silence, the Holy Cross never say that they blaspheme their benefactor by worshiping death.

The same is true for the Thunderstorm Festival.

If Enid does not give a "peaceful" result, this grand sacrifice that lasts for dozens of days and covers the entire city of London will probably no longer welcome the executive officer.

Executive not welcome?

Fernandez was full of disdain: "I will never participate in such a killing ritual... What is the difference between me and those idiots who watch the hanging?"

"So, what about the other executive officers?"

Enid asked.

"I have to consider the majority opinion."

Every year, the Thunderstorm Festival of the Church of Justice asks the gods to cleanse the souls of sinners. Citizens can drink the blood that has been cast by the gods. It is said that it can increase lifespan and strengthen the body.

Some who are even more fortunate claim to have "an extra pair of invisible eyes" that allow them to catch a fleeting, thunderous glimpse of reality in the mundane world.

but.

Consider 'majority opinion'?
Fernandez touched his anchor.

"Ahem. My Lord, I don't think any of my brothers or sisters would participate in the Thunderstorm Festival, a ritual that deceives mortals... You don't have to worry about it."

Enid groaned in silence.

"Let me and Roland go to the Supervisory Bureau. Bring blades. I've wanted to teach them a lesson for a long time... Last time... Humph..." Fernandez hoped that Enid would send them there, so that they could see what kind of "genius" the Supervisory Bureau is.

Fernandez really loves this kind of door-to-door slapping action.

the most important is.

Someone has support.

"Inspection Bureau?" The judge looked puzzled. "...Oh, yes, of course not. Fernandez, I sent someone there yesterday."

Fernandez: ...

He glanced at Mr. Collins, who was hunching his neck and grinning in a rat-like manner.

He felt as if he had become part of some emotion.

(End of this chapter)