The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1063 Ch.1062 The Rat Patient

"I don't know why the rats haven't been coming here all this time, gentlemen, but I assure you, if you pull the trigger, a swarm of rats will soon devour us all—we're all trying to survive, aren't we?"

She spoke softly, pushing aside Proll, Margaret, and Sita, and nodding to their lovers.

Shooting is absolutely forbidden.

Some of the less experienced members of the group hesitated, which naturally proved Gilles was right—what fool would be making a fuss at this time?
"One, gentlemen."

Gilles took another step forward, almost reaching the five people.

“It’s just me. There’s no room for negotiation—if you don’t agree, then go ahead and make a scene with your guns, not to mention whether the gentlemen behind me are afraid of your bullets and fists… In that case, none of us will come out unscathed.”

After she finished speaking, the room fell silent.

The five people looked at each other in bewilderment.

To be honest, there's not much difference between one and two—the disaster won't last long, and the street won't be full of bones that have been eaten.

There are always living people.

They had no reason to gamble here, especially with their lives at stake. If they ran out of bullets, how would they proceed?
"I must praise your courage and noble character in sacrificing yourself for others..."

The man's words only fueled the anger of the others—the men were about to attack, but Prol ordered the girls to stop them.

Proll seemed to know what she was going to do, constantly giving the young men and women meaningful glances and whispering:

'Listen to Gilles! Listen to Gilles!'

They were utterly baffled: "This doesn't make sense, ma'am! How can we—"

“Come on, gentlemen, I don’t think you really need wine and bread.” Knowing that waiting any longer would likely lead to trouble, Gilles immediately lifted her skirt, turned and walked past the five men without looking back, heading straight for the corridor—she walked very fast, almost running, giving no one time to think.

Whether it was those five, or the others chasing after them.

Based on past experience, the leader of this group should first peek through the curtains, then open the door a crack, holding a gun and a tabletop to use as a shield. However, Gilles opened the front door directly and walked out barefoot.

This terrified the five people.

The leading man called to her in a low voice, urging her to come back quickly, but saw Gilles outside the door, turning around in the sunlight.

He stared at them coldly.

The rustling sound of crawling soon reached their ears.

Before anyone could react, someone shouted, "Rat!!"

Gray waves, surging from the upper floors on both sides like a torrent, crashed at Gilles Fonseca's feet. Like water ripped open by fish fins, they circled around the woman's feet and rushed straight toward Fonseca's house—at an alarming speed.

In just a blink of an eye.

The gun went off.

boom--! !

"Damn it! Close the door! Close it now...close the door! By the grace of God...Cohen..."

The bullets splashed into the rats, like using a needle to deal with a swarm of ants.

They surged into the corridor in almost the time it takes for a piece of paper to fall, and with their momentum, they 'smashed' down the five upright creatures blocking the doorway.

then.

It was the indiscriminate release of bullets and the agonizing cries of humans dying.

Blood gushed everywhere after the bellies were ripped open. The girls screamed, while the men looked on in absurdity, muttering the names of their gods. No one ran away, believing they could survive such a wave.

The cracking sounds of flesh being torn apart were chilling.

The girl named Xida, nicknamed the Cheetah, nestled in her lover's arms, sobbing so hard her skirt became damp. In the end, even the men couldn't bear to look away.

It was a truly cruel scene.

For everyone present, this was the first time in their lives they had witnessed how a person could be reduced to a clean skeleton—the first time, but certainly not the last.

As long as this disaster is not over.

"Benefactor above..."

Groen clasped his hands together in front of his chest, praying that his god would show mercy.

As she listened to the chewing sounds around her, Gilles's soul seemed to leave her body and gaze upon herself among the rats from a higher place with a strange perspective—what a great power!
This is a blasphemous power that mortals can never reach, enough to rebuke "take your creatures and get out": regardless of birth or background, no matter how lowly or noble, it will immediately make people forget their troubles and instantly float up to the heavens.

The power of life and death never comes from authority, but from tangible rivets that can carve into flesh and bone.

She could tear the heads off these mortals with ease, like a fighting cock.

Just whisper a sentence.

She became a symbol of secrecy, a crown that would never again be anxious, a sword that would remain strong and new for a lifetime—she could hear their fragile fates rustling like paper, their fates drifting aimlessly in the wind like leaflets.

A heavy weight weighed on her heart, an immense power that was bewitching a demon about to awaken.

'Follow me.'

The voice said.

'Can you see their heads?'

'You just need to…'

Gilles stared coldly at the five corpses, shattered beyond repair, before turning her gaze to the men and women in the room—thankfully, the girls were never afraid of her.

Long before Prolmar took his first step, Margaret had already jumped over the corpses, kicked away the rats that were spinning around in place, and rushed to the stunned 'mother'.

She grabbed his wrist and shook him as if begging him to buy her earrings.

In no time, he called the person back.

The flag flying high among the lambs was nothing more than a hallucination a man might have of seven or eight testicles—Gills looked down at her clean, bloodless hands, staggered to the ground, and burst into tears without warning.

The girls swarmed around him, pulling and dragging him, and it took a lot of effort to carry him back into the house.

Close the door tightly.

The man took over the second leg of the relay, pulling the person into his arms, lifting them horizontally, and gently placing them on the sofa.

Proll poured her a glass of whiskey to calm her nerves, but Gilles couldn't drink a single drop.

She felt nauseous and couldn't believe she had killed five people—by ordering rats around…

mouse?!
The woman, startled, hurriedly pushed Margaret aside, only to find that apart from bone fragments, not even a rat's tail was missing from the corridor.

“This is not your fault, Ms. Fonseca.”

Groen, a gentleman in his forties, was the most 'calm' of them all—unlike the younger men who were shouting and marveling at the woman's 'gift' and 'divine revelation,' speculating about what other wonders this power might hold.

Or perhaps out of fear, they would pull their lover aside and bombard them with questions, inquiring about Gilles's usual behavior and whether she was 'stable and normal'.

Groen is in his forties.

Having worked in banking for half my life, I've seen too many self-important 'lucky people'—honestly, there's no ladder to heaven for the poor.
It's all wishful thinking.

Would it be different if it were 'spells'?
Most things in this world are pretty much the same.

(End of this chapter)