The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 991: The Sound of Fluttering Wings

Chapter 991: The Sound of Fluttering Wings

The unlucky man who was targeted lived in the South District, two alleys away from the Gold Tooth Gang's gambling house, right next to the well.

When Hans took Rose to the nearby place by car, it was already completely dark.

Candles were lit in some windows - generally speaking, places that could do such a luxury at night were mostly "businesses": the flesh trade, or gambling houses, or some small illegal underground exchanges.

It was impossible for ordinary citizens to light candles or oil lamps at night.

Even if a husband and wife want to relive the romantic days of their youth, they should do it in the dark - maybe it can give each other more fantasy and interest.

Since the beginning of summer, many women have appeared on the streets.

In winter, they would lean against the windows, sticking their hands holding cigarettes through the cracks. Now, they can wrap themselves in blankets, lean against the adobe wall covered with posters or flyers, and show off their proudest features to every nocturnal animal.

It's a few levels lower than Huajie.

They had nowhere to go, so most of their income had to be handed over to the police, and a small portion of the rest had to be cut out for the Gold Tooth Gang, and they had to pay various taxes - and of what was left, part had to be set aside to give to the doctor.

The dumber ones start working at the age of twelve, the talented ones can start earning money at the age of six or seven, and the luckiest ones can work until retirement - twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old.

If I hadn't been picked up by Annie...

Rose slowed her pace.

"How much do you charge?"

She asked.

"A small half," Hans whispered back, "a small half every month. We are not as greedy as the police, miss, and we can help them deal with many troublesome customers - some of the words I say may pollute your ears..."

He told Rose that the Gold Teeth Gang was already a very "generous and kind" gang: if it were any other unknown small gang, they would not only ask for money, but also ask women to serve them for free - if it were even more abominable, if it were the police and the government...

"The newspapers belittled them and called on them to go to the monastery to 'confess' and 'purify their filthy souls'..." Hans sneered: "At the same time, they also collected 'cleanliness tax' and 'sunshine tax' from them..."

Rose knew that Hans was not speaking up for the prostitutes.

"If you were really capable, you would have made this place look like the Flower Street long ago."

Turning around a huge poker billboard, Hans greeted a few cigarette butts lit in the darkness.

That was the person he sent to keep watch.

Right at the entrance of the alley.

"He picked up the bodies of two cats and a dog this afternoon," the person who was following him said, "and he never came out again."

Hans asked them to put out their cigarettes, prepare their weapons, and go in to arrest the man.

Rose was excited.

She kicked a bag of ground 'golden bullets', which was long gone from the days of drinking red wine and cooking offal in the boring house all day long.

"Miss...I still feel..."

"You'd better not have any ideas - I finally get out once, if you can't make me happy, I will let your men take your place... I think Marino is a good choice."

After Rose finished speaking, Marino beside her silently straightened his chest.

Hans wanted to kick him.

It's rare to find someone this stupid.

"Then please allow me to stay with you." Hans didn't think there would be any 'problems' - three stalkers, plus the top thug Marino, and himself - he was also a good fighter who worked his way up from the bottom...

Between 'offending the eldest daughter of the Shelley family' and 'offending the Shelley family', he chose a seemingly 'incorrect' path.

Because Hans was very clear about the difference in 'time' between the two.

Reject now.

He must be out before daybreak.

"Beside me?" Rose sneered: "You protect me, or I protect you?" She didn't think that mortals could play any role in front of the ritualists. Rose's idea was correct, but she didn't realize that some characteristics that shouldn't appear in her were gradually showing vague shadows as her status improved.

"Let's go."

…………

……

This Mr. Bright (it is said) moved to the South Side half a month ago.

They didn't find out where he came from or who else was at home, and even the neighbors couldn't figure it out - he disappeared all day, had no regular work or leave time, and when they occasionally glanced at him, they would only see him carrying a sack and returning home in the sunset or moonlight.

"One of the great qualities of South Side residents is that they never look for trouble."

Hans whispered.

If it were in the West District, someone who was acting mysterious all day would have been reported long ago.

"How does he live?"

"That's his excellent character, miss," Hans shrugged. "Who cares? If it weren't for your letter, I would even think he was a member of the Wire Hook Gang - he was always wandering around the city with a big bag..."

Hans raised his hands and fanned them as he spoke.

There are more mosquitoes and flies in summer.

These fearless little creatures always come crashing into your face in groups.

"If only our soldiers were so brave and fearless," Hans complained, shaking his shirt. "Where do the citizens' money go? Can't they hire a few people to clean up the shit?"

"You still pay taxes?" Rose was surprised.

Hans smiled awkwardly: "Of course, Miss. Even though I am doing some illegal 'business', I am proud of this country like everyone else... I even donated money to the war last year..."

He's quite proud.

Rose asked him how much he donated.

Hans hesitated again - citizens who donated money to the war would receive a commendation and a printed 'letter of commendation' on paper, stamped with the royal seal and signed by the Queen: this was why Hans donated the money.

As for the imperial army causing trouble in certain countries, cutting open people's stomachs, and using spears to pick out premature babies...

It's none of his business.

"too hot."

He fanned himself and pulled his collar high.

The men following behind him were becoming increasingly impatient:

From time to time, mosquitoes and flies would land on the skin, with their broad and rough palms, bravely sticking their suction apparatus into the skin - the mosquitoes and flies, which looked metallic in the moonlight, were competing for their midnight snacks. When a red particle was swatted away, seven or eight would immediately pounce on it.

They rushed one after another to drill into the wounds made by their predecessors who died in battle, scrambled to pierce the scarred skin, squeezed out grease with their shovel-like bristles, flapped their thin wings on the sieve, and wished they would drown in this mending work for the rest of their lives.

soon.

It was crushed into a ball of red merit of humanity.

Its young will step over its corpse and rediscover the scars it left on the earth.

Extend your suction device.

They were becoming more and more impatient, and the clapping sounds were more frequent than on Flower Street.

soon.

Some people couldn't wait any longer and started asking questions to the leader.

"Why did we have to bring a prostitute to this place?"

(End of this chapter)

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