The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1072 Ch.1071 The Road to Escape
"What if they make a different choice?"

Deloz leaned against the wall, glanced at Roland crouching by the window, and softly asked the gray-haired girl beside him—having suddenly received the joyful surprise of survival, the men and women inside were happily gathering their clothes, tying their trousers and cuffs, and changing into the simplest casual clothes…

Follow Sandel's instructions to collect oil, matches, and candles in the villa.

Joking aside, Deloz still had some questions in his mind—for example, about the 'test' Roland had given him.

The feelings between them.

"Another option?"

Sender smiled gently: “Miss Fonseca, whatever choices they make—whatever happens in the room—there is only one answer: Roland will take them to a safe place.”

After answering lightly, the woman suddenly asked Delos, "You don't think Roland is 'testing' someone, do you?"

if not?
Like many tragedies that should never happen and begin with a prank—only after the whole thing is over and the perpetrator has calmed down will they realize that things may not always go the way they hoped.

Delos is the same.

If the gentlemen and the girls start arguing in the room.

If they start hurling insults at each other and come to blows for a chance to survive—if that scene were to actually happen…

The craftswoman, still shaken, regretted her rash decision to participate in this 'joke'.

She thought this in her heart, and it was also reflected on her face.

This made Xander's gaze towards her even more peculiar.

“I’m afraid you’re not qualified, Miss Fonseca.”

"W-what?"

What is qualified and what is unqualified?

After that abrupt and incoherent statement, the wretched woman offered no explanation to Delos—if Halida had been there, she would have immediately understood the meaning behind Xander's words.

Some regrets.

Miss Fonseca.

“What I mean is—this shouldn’t be a ‘joke,’ should it? What if the last thing we want to see happens…”

"So what?" Cinder pressed, curious. "So what, Miss Fonseca? Don't you think the other ending is interesting enough? Whether the princess and the knight marry, or the princess kills the knight during their lovemaking..."

"Aren't either of them a very good ending?"

Deloz stood there, stunned, staring at the man leaning against the window, half his face in shadow.

interesting?

For some reason, she felt an uncontrollable chill rising from her tailbone, which then shot up her spine in an instant.

She couldn't quite describe the feeling.

This condescending and capricious attitude...

It was just like the way the bishop looked at her from the high platform beneath the Holy Cross when she went to church as a child.

Lamb.

She was speechless.

She didn't know, nor did she want to say anything that would hurt her friendship with Roland in a moment of impulse—this woman would definitely do something bad behind her back.

Can…

but.

Why did Roland do that?
“Think about why you insist on spending all your time with men, hammering and banging, surrounded by metal and fire,” Xander said softly, waving to the men and women approaching her. “Come on, gentlemen and ladies. Be quiet, and say what you need to say when it’s safe…”

Why should I associate with metal and fire?
Deloz frowned.

…………

...This disaster damaged the dignity of many people in London.

Regardless of whether they are rich or powerful, middle class or poor.

Damaged dignity knows no class, and it is not the dignity of life that is damaged, but the dignity of death.

They can no longer die like a real 'person'.

'Exposed corpses in the wilderness' is no longer a word easily overlooked in books: especially after the infected who manipulate rats began to consciously control the rat swarms, the fate of the civilians was like a speeding carriage heading towards that bottomless abyss.

They were eaten, their bones were broken, and they struggled and died in agony in public.

Some fled while spilling feces or tears—who cared to smell or see them?
Those who abandon their wives, those who would rather die than abandon their wives and children, and those who die without ever considering whether they should abandon them.

In this disaster, humanity coldly and steadily radiated its duality: insults or vows rang out every moment, only to be quickly swallowed up by cries of weeping, jubilation, or despair.

The crackling of muskets firing provided accompaniment in every section. Whenever they fired in bursts, swarms of rats would rush in, making the noise even louder.

Roland, Sandel, and Delos escorted the men and women as they moved westward—not along the proper paths, or the paths 'normal' people should take: this is where the advantage of having a thief friend becomes apparent.

Unbeknownst to him, he had become accustomed to using the varied rooftops, eaves, and balconies of London at important moments.

Why do poor people choose to endure hunger rather than compromise their own interests, and instead decorate their balconies and exterior walls beautifully?
The men each tended to their own lovers, using ropes to climb up and down, passing through houses of varying heights, moving as slowly as if they were climbing a mountain.

But it's still better than being eaten alive on the ground until only bones remain.

Some were exceptionally clever and made the same choice as Roland—they even met or brushed past Roland and Sandel on the rooftop.

But they didn't say anything.

Some were holding their children or their wives.

Some, however, only have their wives left.

Or perhaps only lonely children remain.

In this bitter, choking environment, the 'survivors' lagging behind could hardly imagine that the golden-eyed man would have time to squat down and tell some witty remarks to the orphan who had lost his parents—

for example.

Groen had just seen him crouching beside a silent girl with her knees drawn up, pointing out to her the endless stream of rats on the street.

'Look, you're sitting on the beach, so these are the waves.'

The girl's empty eyes held only a long, indelible musty smell.

'Just pretend your parents drowned, okay?'

After comforting the silent orphan, he got up again and led them forward—but the gentlemen at the back of the line had to spare some time to comfort the orphan sitting on the roof again, asking her if she would like to go with them to a safe place.

At least.

They can still bring one or two children.

but…

What exactly happened to that gentleman?

How could he say such things to someone who is suffering?!

Even though they were being saved by Roland, they simply couldn't stand his 'crazy talk' anymore.

The 'joke' just now was, and so were all the crazy things we said along the way.

Doesn't he have even the slightest bit of consideration for others?
Can't he feel the sadness of others?
How could he speak to a child who has lost a loved one like that?
"on the contrary."

Proll gave Margaret, who was looking around, a tap on the back of the head. Faced with the gentlemen's questions, this exceptionally plump lady—whose body would definitely add a lot of unnecessary trouble to her escape—gazed with unusual gentleness at the back of the leader of the group.

"Excuse me, ma'am, what did you say?"

"…nothing."

(End of this chapter)