The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1157 Ch.1156 Prelude
The fairy bird and whale wax oil hadn't even been placed on Natalia's lab table yet. Before that, Monica had already fallen into a true state of hysteria—

She was led to the red-light district by the nuns of the convent.

That's right.

Flower Street, Saintess.

Two words that should never appear on the same street in normal times fit together perfectly like a husband and wife with terminal illnesses: she was led to the red-light district and, under arrangement, 'witnessed' countless vulgar acts between men and women.

y is chaotic.

Crazy.

The unforgettable scenes, which made her blush, scorn, and even haunted her dreams every night, permeated Monica's soul like the changing seasons.

She was an innocent girl, but her soul was battle-hardened.

Not only that.

not only.

The old bastard at the convent, that damned sallow-skinned woman, even hired some of the most experienced men from the red-light district for her.

It was like arriving in London and hastily learning etiquette and the relationships between various surnames.

two months.

Monica was forced to learn many ways to please people.

The holy and pure skin of the saint was filled with the filth of the bedchamber.

This caused Monica great distress.

—Although she was vain, ignorant, and dull-witted, like many country girls who yearn for big cities, she had many common little quirks.

Although she was spoiled and arrogant by her father and brother, the invisible mercenary nature between her fingers could not be washed away even with gold juice.

But she still didn't think she deserved such 'torture'—even the dumbest person would have guessed why she was learning these filthy techniques.

first timing.

She didn't think about her father and brother. She was also clearly aware of the vast difference between herself and a truly illustrious family—as outsiders in London, a family that hadn't even gained a foothold or a foothold in the community—and those with truly distinguished lineages.

It's not just a difference in money.

She approached her mentor.

"She actually made me learn those filthy things!"

“That’s something you should learn, Monica.”

“I will never need it! Teacher, I don’t understand what went wrong—I am the saint of the Holy Cross, aren’t I?”

Natalia exclaimed, "Of course, Monica. It's precisely because you are that you need to learn..."

of course not.

Monica wanted Natalia to say a few words for her so that she could 'exit' this absurd ceremony.

Natalia refused.

“Every round, Monica. When each round of the ritual reaches its final moment, no one can stop it—do you think you can stop a charging buffalo with your bare hands?”

Seeing that she was still in a daze, Natalia couldn't help but speak coldly:
"this is your choice."

“But I don’t know what the responsibility of a ‘saint’ is—otherwise I would never let these old toads ruin my life!” The girl was hysterical, almost going crazy—if this past were known to anyone, she would never be able to marry into a good family again.

For example, the promising young gentlemen of London that her father and she had promised.

Wealth, titles, a respected surname, an ancient family heritage, a respectable, happy, and comfortable life...

She's going crazy.

"What kind of 'ritual' is this? The Holy Cross? The largest, most 'noble,' and most 'just' religious sect sends its saints to do street work?!"

The girl's repeated shouts echoed in Natalia's ears.

finally.

It was simply distorted into a single line of text:

I gain, but I'm unwilling to pay the price. "To want to know the cost before every choice is an extremely arrogant idea, Monica. Fate is fickle, especially for those who haven't learned that—I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it."

After Natalia finished speaking, Monica finally calmed down.

She turned into a skinny dog ​​whose voice had been poisoned and rendered mute, a fish under the chef's warm palms, on the cutting board.

The fool who enjoyed six months of romantic and luxurious life eventually discovered that he himself was the collateral.

The anger subsided.

Only traces of fear remained on the beach.

“...Father won’t agree,” Monica whispered.

Her pretty little Bonnet was crumpled up like the miserable face of a poor person who had lost all their savings, rolled up and crumpled like a cheap item, and the beautiful velvet and rabbit fur patterns were no longer visible.

Snapped.

She slammed her ever-flaunting crown onto the table and fled from Natalia's sight without looking back.

Her father would speak up for her, and her brother would offer her some benefits.

Will she succeed?
In fact, Natalia had seen far too many saints.

If we're really talking about who was being 'deceived'—especially their families—none of them were 'blinded'.

The saint may not bring her a good reputation, but she can truly gain the friendship of the Holy Cross: at least the friendship of certain key figures.

These 'friendships' sound ethereal, like gentlemen who buy extravagant silk hats who don't necessarily need to carry a rabbit with them: it's more about how others perceive the hat.

It can be a hat, the start of a conversation, a seat ticket at a table, or an invisible and intangible ticket to a friendly club.

Natalia knew perfectly well what was going on.

Monica's father and brother definitely understood what the 'Saint' meant and what Monica was about to face—even so, they still fought for it.

He will persuade his daughter.

Otherwise, get out of London.

The woman thought.

As she expected, things turned out differently.

In just three days.

Monica then reappeared in front of her.

In just three days, it was as if someone had bitten the girl's throat and sucked it all away.

She was thinner and more slender, her long dress hanging haphazardly like a handkerchief blown onto a tree branch. Her eyes, which once held a sway of disdain and arrogance, now often revealed sorrow and pain.

If she can maintain this demeanor, she probably won't have to worry about her marriage anymore.

A girl who is suffering and fragile is far more attractive to young talents than one who is arrogant and contemptuous.

“I’ve delayed things for you for three days, Miss Monica. I think that’s enough to pay the fee your father gave me, isn’t it?”

Clearly, Monica now loathes Natalia's 'unapproachable'... even her coldness.

She wasn't sure if all 'scholars' were like this. Reason told her that her suffering had nothing to do with the other person, but her emotions wouldn't let her go.

“…Should I say ‘thank you’?” Monica asked, not without sarcasm.

“If only people could change their fate through words, child.” For some reason, Natalia looked at her with even more pity.

“Exactly, I may be destined to be a saintly whore. Ms. Natalia, can you tell me, from beginning to end, how many ‘saints’ will I have to have how many ‘pure and blessed’ sacraments with?”

Natalia did not speak.

Monica never really understood what the 'ritual' required her to do.

As in the past, it has been the same failure time and time again.

In Natalia's view, this poor, disposable item did not have the "qualification" to complete the ritual, and everything the church had done was in vain.

(End of this chapter)