The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1053 Ch.1052 Support
and so…

Bewitchment and nurturing...

For example, these rats.

such as…

The manipulator of rats... the corrupt ritualist...

as well as…

The old man's pupils dilated for a moment as he pondered under Rose's gaze.

He suddenly grabbed Rose, ignoring the girl's injuries, and rolled awkwardly to one side—the next second.

A thunderous tremor.

Debris flew.

The wall was smashed open.

A flesh-and-blood monster that had 'grown' to eighteen feet tall stepped in.

Following closely behind were swarms of rats.

There was also a face whose name the father and daughter could call out.

"Thomas Terry..."

James Shelley reached for the long pocket of his nightgown.

I felt empty.

Holy water…

This is troublesome—

The piece of meat reeking of decay was on it.

Rose saw many familiar faces.

For the servants, and for the coachmen.

There were also some of her big 'friends' whose names she knew, people she always teased—which made Rose both angry and sad.

She couldn't understand why all of this had happened.

"Good day, Mr. Shelley."

The rats parted like a swarm of ships under Thomas Terry's every step. He thus brazenly entered the most private room of Shelley Manor, about to unleash his final, exhilarating revenge amidst a torrent of fear—

He will imprint everything from today in his mind and go back to tell his perpetually festering, constantly oozing daughter.

This will be a touching and beautiful story.

Good day, Mr. Terry.

James Shelley braced himself against the desk to sit up, blocking Rose from view.

“I don’t think it was a pleasant visit.”

“If the Shelleys had welcomed me earlier, I certainly wouldn’t have used this method.” Thomas Terry stepped forward with a smile, scrutinizing James’s face, weathered by time—to be honest, he was starting to like the path the cult had taken.

At least…

Once he gets to the high rings, he'll have the skills of Tom Linus.

I will never be like James Shelley.

Pitiful…

“I have written to you several times, Mr. Shelley, but you have refused to write to me.” He seemed unconcerned about what old Shelley or young Shelley behind him could do, and bent down as if no one else was there, pulling a chair from beside him that had not yet been thrown into the fire.

He carried me to the door and sat me down.

He began to examine the old man with great interest.

“It was a ‘polite’ refusal, Mr. Terry,” James Shelley added. “You don’t look too well.”

"great."

“I hope we’re both ‘fairly well’—Mr. Terry, to be honest, the disaster that happened to Miss Madeline Terry… was a tragedy. I swear on my last name, Lillian was utterly insignificant in the whole affair; she played absolutely no role…”

Thomas Terry listened quietly without saying a word.

In his eyes, the old man was truly foolish.

Given the current situation, do you really expect him to let them go?
In fact, Shelley knew perfectly well what was going on.

But he had to stall for time, until hope arrived.

Or, confirm that Tom Barca, confirm that William, confirm that the entire manor's guards have been wiped out...

The number of people who have performed the ritual in this "field" exceeds six, seven rings... until it is confirmed that they are completely lifeless.

Before that, he must work hard for himself and Lillian.

Use his mouth.

"Perhaps we can talk? Is there anything in this world that can't be traded?"

He casually picked up the still-warm pipe from the table, tapped it against the corner of the table upside down—and just held it in his hand to play with it.

The tobacco tin is too far away.

“I can guarantee that, Mr. Terry, besides my daughter’s life, the Shelley family definitely has other treasures you want… such as…” He rubbed the rough bowl hard with his thumb, which was pressed against his lower abdomen. A specially made, inconspicuous sharp edge on the bowl cut his fingertip as he rubbed it repeatedly.

The pitted and uneven walls of the bucket silently sucked away the blood droplets.

“For example, artifacts, Mr. Terry. The Shelley family has a large collection of artifacts, even clues to occult organs…including fragments of secret techniques we don’t need, universal rituals—”

He spoke in a low voice, slowly.

Each time a treasure is spat out, there is a pause of three to five seconds.

This is not James's speaking style.

Rose realized it immediately.

At this moment, the dying girl could no longer care about the excruciating pain in her abdomen. The burning sensation of the holy water penetrating her soul seemed to dispel the curse, but it also drove her to run wildly in another extreme direction—she felt more lucid than ever before.

In Roland's words:

True deities, perhaps, should think like our detective...

—Although this was a joke made to Kingsley, Rose thought she should indeed try to see the disaster from Kingsley's perspective.

The blade not only cut open her belly but also twisted and shredded many of her internal organs. This rearranged all the ornaments inside her, scattering them everywhere—plus, she herself had a nose, and a very sensitive one at that, so she naturally smelled the stench of blood mixed with feces.

It's hard to say whether this madman will let James and Tom go...

Anna, who served her, and the other surviving servants in the old house…

Her slightly drooping eyelashes obscured the two gradually dimming emerald stones.

Rose leaned against the desk, trying to activate the "secret" within her body... A sharp pain disrupted her already shaky concentration.

The girl thought for a moment, then silently reached out and grasped the strange object that she hadn't yet had a chance to test fire on.

She had to cooperate with James when he made his move.

gold…

Or bullets are fine.

She didn't know how powerful this corrupt arbitrator was; at least... someone who hadn't yet ascended to immortality as a ritual practitioner was already at risk of being killed...

“A well-mannered person doesn’t hold grudges, Mr. Terry. May I know what the Shelley family will have to pay, besides their daughter’s life—”

Thomas Terry suddenly interrupted James.

“You have no idea what my daughter has gone through.”

he said softly.

"You have no idea what your daughter has done... Shelley, Shelley, what did Shelley do after this happened?"

“Mr. Terry…”

"'Sir'?" Thomas Terry slowly rose, rolling up his sleeves: his arms were covered in thick, dark brown bristles resembling those of a wild boar. The veins writhing beneath his skin, long since deformed into thick, bulging channels, made it impossible for him to walk normally in the sunlight.

Not to mention abandoning the role of arbitrator.

It becomes a "serious sin".

He harmed his own students.

Forever in the gutter...

He sacrificed so much for Madeline.

And now.

This hypocritical businessman even tried to talk to him about 'giving'?
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, Mr. Shelley. I’m going to rip your daughter’s genitals out and shove them down your throat—”

He didn't finish speaking.

From the rubble that exploded on the other side of the wall, a gleaming dagger pierced his neck—there were no corridors or rooms outside the wall.

It faces the garden directly.

(End of this chapter)