The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 578 Ch.577 Golden Blood

Roland was not surprised to hear this word from Randolph.

Occult organ.

Because he was looking for this thing in order to complete his own three-ring ceremony-and he was very familiar with the Taylor family ritualist: the tall, square-jawed gentleman who was responsible for protecting Randolph.

Therefore, it is normal for Randolph to know this.

"Yes, I need the secret organ... No, it should be said that every ritualist needs it."

Randolph relaxed his cervical vertebrae from side to side: "Like a gold pound to a businessman?"

"Everyone."

Roland explained to him the true function of the "secret organ" and how rare it is.

Randolph had heard from his family's ritualist before, but he was still surprised that this 'disgusting' creation actually contained such huge power: his ritualist told him that a secret organ could allow people to control thunder and scold The storm brings light to the dark night and bows the waves.

This really exceeded his imagination of 'mystery'.

"Is this true, or is it an exaggeration? We often use this method."

For example, the recent promotion of "Fountain of Youth".

"It's not an exaggeration, Randolph. Mystical organs really do this."

Randolph shrugged: "It would be great if you did, and you could open my eyes."

Roland did have it, but there was no way to show it to Randolph: not to mention the eyes, his blood could exorcise evil spirits, and it could also make his body...

How does this ‘open your eyes’?

"Show it to his sister... in his presence."

-

You think of me as too brave.

"If you insist on reading, I have an idea." Roland looked at the table, opened a pile of documents with his fingers, took out the silver-handled letter opener, made two gestures, and looked at Randolph's hesitant expression. , and lightly wiped the index finger.

A shallow mark was left on the fingertips.

Randolph: ...

The embarrassed Mr. Alien coughed twice, left a gap between his fingertips and the blade, increased his strength, and pressed it again.

Then the letter opener broke.

Randolph: ...

"This knife was given to my father by Theresa back then, Roland." Randolph looked helpless: "Theresa will nag me for half a year."

Roland: "...I thought you were worried about my fingers just now."

Randolph smiled: "Why should I worry about your fingers? If you were stupid enough to cut off your own fingers, wouldn't you just receive treatment with Betty?"

The presentation session ended with the death of a letter opener.

Later Randolph opened the door and asked for a sharpened boning knife through the servant.

This was considered as 'cutting' Roland's finger: a small opening.

A drop of golden blood emerged.

Compared to the Storm and Thunder, this is amazing enough.

This is golden blood.

golden.

"The secret organ, a powerful 'power' that every ritualist is pursuing."

"This goes well with your eyes," Randolph stared closely at the golden blood bead and murmured: "What... does it do?"

"Like holy water, Randolph."

"You mean-"

"Yes, it may be more effective than holy water."

When Roland finished saying this, he suddenly found that Randolph looked at him a little strangely.

"Roland," Randolph looked away, handed him a new handkerchief, and said hesitantly: "You know that the "Fountain of Youth" is our common cause, right? "

Roland:?

"You see, we are promoting everywhere that the "Fountain of Youth" has the power to expel filth. To a certain extent, it can even be regarded as a 'weakened version' of holy water..." Randolph rubbed his hands back and forth, his narrow eyes filled with brilliance. of golden light.

Anyone could tell what he was planning.

Damn businessman.

"There's no way I'm going to cut my finger and spend hours every day milking a perfume bottle."

"No, of course not! You can keep it in the bottle, and everything will be blended by the workers! I will tell them that this is high-concentration holy water mixed with the church... How about? Wait, wait. If there is your blood , our perfume can truly exorcise evil spirits..."

The businessman scratched his neck, opened the messy pieces of paper, found a pen and scratched on it.

It's all numbers.

"...I have to do some calculations. The price of holy water does not fluctuate much, but getting it requires more than just money and status. Everyone has a certain quota every month - that is to say, we really have one -"

The more he calculated, the more excited he became, and his pale face naturally turned red. His eyes were filled with chilling greed like a bloody beast when he was hungry.

then.

The tip of the pen draws a long blue line on the paper.

With a creaking pause, his 'excitement' came to an abrupt end like an ink stain.

He had visibly lost his vitality, as if what had just uplifted him was just an unrealistic dream.

The man dropped the pen, covered his face, and rubbed it several times.

He slumped in his chair and let out a long sigh.

"Forget it, Roland."

Roland didn't know what he was excited about at all: "You have to ask Mr. Snow to take a look."

Randolph rolled his eyes and lost interest: "It was originally a great thing, but guess what? We can't do this job."

Of course Randolph knew what the perfume dripping with Roland's blood meant and how valuable it was.

He did not let greed get to his head.

He knew that once he did this, it would inevitably lead to a problem:

People who buy perfume are always lucky enough to "actually experience" the beauty. And when these customers understand that the perfume of the "Fountain of Youth" is actually more effective than holy water...

Guess what the Holy Cross will do.

This is suicide.

Randolph does not think that "the Inquisition supports the Fountain of Youth" is equivalent to "the Inquisition is willing to go against the Church for the Fountain of Youth" - these are two different things.

Roland's blood is precious, to put it vulgarly, it is worth a lot of money.

But Randolph can't use it to exchange for their interests, and he even stared at Roland seriously and warned him.

A mortal, warning the ritualist.

"Don't tell anyone about your blood, Roland."

In order to let Roland know that he was serious, he threw the cigar into the teacup. After a "snort", he pressed his hands on the table, half stood up and leaned forward, and said in a cold voice: "Don't tell anyone."

"Do you know what your blood means?"

"This is equivalent to usurping the authority of the church to a certain extent - do you understand? The most frightening thing is the ghost, those erratic shadows that stare at you in the dark."

And once Roland's blood can have the same effect as holy water, even if it is weaker...

Randolph dare not assert whether the Holy Cross will take his life.

But he guarantees that these masters in London will make Roland live a life worse than death.

There is a "quota" for holy water.

Every believer must donate a certain amount of money to receive a small portion every month. If you don't have such qualifications and are unwilling to donate money day after day for years, then please pray that the thing staring at you is not too vicious, and that the monks of the church can arrive in time.

And don't be greedy.

Once the "Fountain of Youth" appears on the market...

"You shouldn't have told me! Roland Collins! You are a blind fool! You should have kept such a big secret——"

Randolph's mind only stayed on the mortal side.

This blood will certainly have a very serious impact, but it will set off a tsunami on the mysterious side compared to the mortal world.

Roland glanced at the blue torches made of gentleness as oil, and bent his neck hard: "I should hide it in my stomach and wait for the right time to tell my important friends and brothers, and then listen to him talking about me like Theresa all night."

Randolph:...

"Fuck you, Roland, I'm serious."

He was furious when he saw Roland's stupid look of "I'm going to try to stick my ears to my shoulders".

Roland just competed with Beatrice.

He won.

-

Look, I can stick my ears firmly without moving my shoulders.

-

Does it look like a snake?

"Like a physicist."