The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 674 Ch.673 Old Anchel’s request for help

"You can send your little lover instead."

In the small hall, the maids came earlier.

They re-boiled the milk and hot tea, and replaced them with freshly baked biscuits and freshly kneaded pastries - which made Victoria laugh at Enid for several minutes, mocking her for eating the leftovers, even if they had been left over for the past three hours. of.

Enid didn't bother to answer her.

"Since you can't find a brother, I think it would be good to find a younger brother. Don't you like that Roland Collins very much? I think he looks good, so he can be a younger brother."

Victoria laughs at Enid's 'hobby'.

As far as she knew, this unqualified presiding judge did indeed take care of the young gentleman in all aspects. There was no doubt that something more intimate must have happened between them - she had known Enid for decades. Year…

I saw that she was different towards Roland Collins.

"Or do you think of him as your 'brother'?" The woman said with malice, "Fantasy has become reality, right?"

"Speak less nonsense and be more like a queen." Enid wiped her fingers and prepared to leave: "I told you, don't cause big trouble. If one day comes, the agreement between us will be void- —I wouldn’t give my life for you, just like you.”

The woman suddenly darkened her face: "We have an agreement."

"The agreement did not say that I would die," Enid stood up and picked up an unused table knife - sterling silver covered with gold flakes, and there were many patterns on the exquisite handle: "Leave me alone Stay away from your lover, there aren’t many people I care about, you know what I mean.”

Victoria took a deep breath.

"tea party."

The woman in the dark dress paused in her steps and slowly turned her head.

"What?"

"Tea party," Victoria also stood up: "My fortune teller. You know, I won't lie about this - the prophecy says that this cult will cause us huge trouble...destructive."

Enid turned around, crossed her arms, and looked at her for a long time: "So?"

"so…"

"'Mortal sin'." "

Enid couldn't help laughing: "A major sin? Can you convince other sects? For what reason? Your male favorite had a dream that the world was destroyed?"

The Queen obviously understands that this is unrealistic.

"I have sent someone to notify the Inspectorate. Enid, I hope to get your attention - you know that my diviners are extraordinary." She repeated the description in the prophecy and added a lot of herself 's speculation, the more serious one.

"Tea party..." Enid read it twice, her brown eyes narrowing a bit: "I can't think of anyone who can 'destroy the world' - an immortal? A waiter of the gods? Just an unknown cult..."

"Enid."

"In order for you to poop and pee in the drowning basin made of gold in the future," the presiding judge said jokingly: "I will send an executive officer to investigate for your hard-won life... What do they want?"

Enid asked.

"Evil name? Fictional gods? Mortal flesh and blood? Money? Or, rituals?"

Victoria shook her head.

It would be nice if it was.

According to her ritualists, this cult is most likely a group of mentally disturbed lunatics.

"I would consider increasing executive salaries..."

"Money is not important!" The man with a beard knocked on the desk. The increasing number of people around me and the cheap, airless clothes began to suffocate my skin.

Beads of sweat broke out on his well-developed nose, and his voice was obviously trembling: "Gentlemen, money is not important! Busy women... sit down! Quick, give it to that person... No, I mean everyone, there are chairs here!"

This was the first time he faced such a battle, only because of the two slender and sharp scimitars on the table.

Roland is not the only one with good eyesight.

Few blind men have access to the Beheaded Club.

Weapon-like items.

This is rarer than earrings and rings.

"We've been waiting for so long, and now you're saying, money doesn't matter? You know what a club is for, if you're looking for someone to show off to, you should go to another place - a place where women are the only ones."

The bearded man wiped his sweat, and even stood up in person, went to the surrounding round tables to apologize quietly, and borrowed a few chairs that no one needed.

"Gentlemen, I promise to come here for this, but I don't need gold pounds." After facing a crowd of dissatisfied faces, he smiled and apologized. After waiting for half a minute, the man began to look around again. After waiting for half a minute, he saw that all the people he could 'lead' had been Everyone came over, and then he spoke in a low voice: "This thing was left by my father's father..."

He took some time to comfort her and then explained what he wanted.

According to Mr Ancher, he was from Basildon, Essex, a town west of London. Like his father, he has inherited the land passed down by his family from generation to generation. The annual rent not only satisfies his taste buds, but also makes him live a comfortable life in the local area.

This originally ordinary and happy family should not overlap with the world of the ritualists.

Until his son.

John Anchel began to act eccentric.

Old Anchel said that he, his wife and the servants in the villa could often hear the sound of "dying" violins at night - it would be more accurate to use the cry before death. In addition, there are the sounds of bells, drums, and the unmelodious noise of percussion on the piano.

It came from little Anchel's room.

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At first, the 'evil sound' only appeared for a short time at midnight and disappeared almost as soon as it took a pee.

then.

They began to get bigger, longer and louder.

Everyone was terrified.

"Maybe my father's father's generation had otherworldly people in the family, but when it comes to my father, he can only talk about his childhood experiences when he is drunk..."

Anchel Sr. said.

The two scimitars had been kept hidden in the wine cellar. During this period, many times, his friends planned to buy them at high prices, but he refused.

"Gentlemen, I am not short of money. I originally planned to leave it to my son just like my father left it to me. This will continue from generation to generation, proving that the Anchel family has also given birth to extraordinary people who have witnessed another world. …”

It is a testimony and a symbol.

But when little Anchel suffered from such a 'strange disease', old Anchel immediately thought of these two scimitars.

"You should ask Holy Cross for help, sir."

Someone gave me some solid advice.

Who is better at dealing with evil spirits than Holy Cross?

Anchel shook his head after hearing this.

"My friend...oh, he was the one who recommended it to me. He hoped that the matter would end in the club..."

"Why?"

This is also the question of all those watching.

Obviously, the 'monster' harassing the Anchel family is very likely to be a ghost - or a resentful spirit.

Regardless of "Saint" or "Holy Flame", they are more experienced and more effective in fighting against such existences than ritualists of other paths.

"...I had the wall thinned. One night, I dared to eavesdrop before the 'play' started..."

Anchel rubbed his face, letting the lush patches clump together.

He carefully scanned the circle with his eyes and said in a trembling voice: "...I heard my little John seem to say some prayers of 'invitation'..."

Before he could finish speaking, someone immediately interrupted him coldly.

"The art of invisibility."

Not only him, but the surrounding audience also stood up and left one after another, as if this elegant and pure white sword was about to fall into a basin full of feces and urine, for fear that their clothes would be stained with dirt.

Some of them expressed disgust, while others expressed fear.

"I wish you good luck, Mr. Ancher. For I have nothing more to offer you than my best wishes."