The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1144 Ch.1143 Naive Collins

That's how people are.

When they have no money, they want money; when they have money, they feel they lack dignity—Mr. Cordoni, this kind of 'nouveau riche,' is not uncommon in the West End.

Typically, such people will appear as a source of amusement for a while, and then quickly disappear again. In old-fashioned terms, they'll go back to where they belong.

simply say.

Mr. Cordoni became wealthy, but he was not respected.

Alice hopes Roland can help her father, and also for the sake of the 'Cordoni' surname.

She couldn't think of anyone else.

As a saint herself, she had no more time to 'waste' on daily life with her family. She couldn't, nor was she permitted to—even Sister Perry said that if she 'became' too attached to her family, there would soon be stricter sisters who would find ways to 'bring her to her'…

The implication is quite obvious.

The church can provide her with everything she wants. In return, she should repay the church with the same, repay her faith, and repay the Father God above her.

That's fair, isn't it?

—As the scholars at the Royal Academy argued: everything is conserved. What you gain in some places, you must give in others.

But "mystery" never follows this rule.

Roland thought.

"Autumn hunt. Alice, you mean, 'autumn hunt in full dress,' right?"

Alice nodded: "I hope you can help me the first time."

Let's get off to a good start.

In Alice Cordonni's eyes, Roland Collins was knowledgeable and had many friends. Regarding the etiquette of the autumn hunt, the appropriate level of personal demeanor, the timing, the route, and many other crucial points requiring guidance from experienced individuals…

Details, details, details.

Roland definitely has a way of teaching his father.

Rather than asking Roland for help, Alice meant more that she hoped Roland could find a decent housekeeper for her father.

It is a private matter.

In private…

Friendly conversation.

(If the neighbors knew that Mr. Cordoni had taken the butler's 'advice,' he would never need to make friends in a wider circle again... and no one would send him any invitations.)
"I should say, teacher."

Alice emphasized.

Roland nodded: "I think I understand what you mean, Miss Cordoni."

It couldn't be simpler—if anyone questions how a saint could exist without the help of other wealthy families…

This brings us back to Xander Kratofer's assessment of the saint.

He would rather marry a prostitute than have any contact with a 'saint'.

Clearly, Alice was unaware of this.

or…

She knows it all too well.

“I’ve heard,” Roland said, craning his neck and holding his hand up to block the view from the round table, “that the ‘Saintess’ enjoys unparalleled privileges, but also endures much unspeakable suffering…”

He quietly revealed the truth, but Alice stared intently into his eyes.

"You can wait a few days, say you have an upset stomach, and sneak off to the window..."

The girl smiled and said, "And then, a knight descended from the sky and took me away?"

Roland was a little angry: "You have to pretend you don't know!"

Alice laughed.

Collins' brother...

I'm all grown up now, why are you still so childish?
She subconsciously touched her bare fingertips. Day after day of care and grooming had given her hands as soft and smooth as silk.

“I don’t know what suffering there is, brother. But if I’ve enjoyed happy days, then I must face what the saintess must face… right?”

“I don’t think so,” Roland shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “People should live a carefree life and avoid suffering. That makes sense—aren’t businessmen the same? Otherwise, how would they make money?”

Alice frowned: "Brother."

She now somewhat recalled the teachings of her grandmothers—to avoid associating with those who were not respectable.

Because these people are always unrealistic and lead your thinking down a dead end with no future.

She was reluctant to place Roland Collins on the "unrefined" side of the scale, but from their meeting so far, he certainly hadn't "grown"—Alice meant, matured.

My brother gained the reputation of the 'Golden Rose' and made many extraordinary friends...

However, they didn't make use of any of these advantages.

childish. Innocent.

He has absolutely no masculinity.

It's really inappropriate.

Alice tried to speak in the old woman's tone, but the words stuck in her throat and she couldn't make a sound.

Her body, or the whispers in her mind, stopped her.

“…That’s my responsibility, brother.”

Roland rested his chin on his hand and said, "I don't think you have any responsibility for those old guys who are over a thousand years old combined." He even winked playfully.

Under the table.

Alice suddenly clenched her fist.

The girl forced a smile and shook her head: "Brother Collins, you've heard some rumors."

“Princess or prostitute, it’s all the same, Alice, who cares? As long as you like it. If you have to say ‘life is too painful’… I’m rich now.”

Alice fluttered her eyelashes, and involuntarily looked away from those intense gazes.

钱…

But now, she doesn't lack that thing.

She wants dignity.

power.

A respectable face.

The greatness of a surname is perhaps only truly secure with money.

Collins' brother.

You'll never grow up.

not to mention.

How can a prostitute be compared to a princess?

She simply couldn't understand Roland Collins's argument that the two were on the same level—she might have understood him when she was a child, but not now.

“...I stand by my choice, brother.”

Roland sighed.

A world outlined by messy lines, a familiar face and Alice's silhouette gradually merge.

I did nothing wrong.

Ms. Kate Passetti, you are absolutely right.

Just like Alice.

“I guarantee that Mr. Cordoni’s autumn hunt will be more respectable than anyone else’s—I have a friend who should be able to help.”

Alice's eyes lit up.

It was brighter than any other moment in the entire conversation: she almost blurted it out.

"The Taylor family's husband! Isn't that right?"

A misty silver amber rose from Roland's eyes.

They stared at each other, their figures growing increasingly blurry.

“Absolutely right, my saint.”

“You’re not suited to talking like that, brother,” Alice teased Roland for his sudden ‘seriousness,’ and as she picked up a silk cloth to wipe the corner of her lips, she couldn’t help but show off her hand, which was like a work of art: “It’s terrifying.”

Roland smiled and got up to take his leave.

Before leaving, he suddenly brought up a not-so-distant past event.

“Even if the ritualist’s old anchor has lost its effect, it is still extremely important. Miss Cordoni, it can be returned to its rightful owner on time—I think you no longer need the protection of an executor.”

Alice paused for a moment.

Old heart anchor…

His gaze slowly shifted to the back of his hand.

“My ring, Miss Cordoni. It’s not very valuable, but it took effort to make it…”

Alice lifted her chin. "My father never worked as a leatherworker again. Brother Collins, that was his last piece..."

"I think so too."

Roland smiled, bowed, and took his leave.

(End of this chapter)