The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1184 Ch.1183 Mayor Mondes

After the coachman and the waiter, the two middle-aged men playing chess were the third group of 'strange people' Rupert encountered in the gold mining town—and next, she would hear something even stranger.

The ages of the two men playing chess.

"I'm almost sixty, young sir, and I can't afford to compete with anyone in drinking—maybe I can still have one more drink? One at most?"

He waved his hand, but Little John poked his head out from under the bar and made a face at him.

The old bartender glared at the man: "You guarantee Mary won't come looking for you. You guarantee it."

"...I'm just guessing I can have another drink, just guessing."

Theodore exclaimed in surprise, "You're almost sixty? My lady! You look only forty..."

Is this also a gift from the "dragon"?
He blurted out, "Two old men playing chess—we should call them old men now." You see, there aren't many people who can live peacefully in London until they're sixty, without getting sick, and with the same energy as a middle-aged person.

Even now, with the recent 'wave' sweeping through, the fog is getting thicker and thicker, and many young people have contracted tuberculosis. With a bunch of sick people hanging out together all day, how can you expect to hear any energetic conversations?

All I could hear were coughs.

"A dragon? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. We don't know, and we've never seen a dragon—"

“You’ve never seen it, yet you have faith in it. Doesn’t that mean you’re expecting its blessings?” Theodore said.

“I don’t see you’ve even seen your own ‘lady,’ sir. What do you expect Him to bestow upon you?” the old man retorted. “In my view, the beliefs of our ancestors only changed my attitude towards life. We firmly believe in and constantly practice a certain way of dealing with life…”

The conversation gradually became more in-depth.

But after noticing the obvious 'disapproval' on Theodore's face, he naturally shifted his gaze to Rupert's face—and then back to Roland Collins's.

"I've heard that an incurable plague is spreading here?"

"Just stay for three to five days, and soon you'll witness the 'plague'..." the old man said meaningfully. "Gold mine, dragon, everything you want to know can be found in Bruno Mondes... but before that, does any of you... know how to dance?"

what?
Jump, dance?
The topic quickly veered to the other side.

“That depends on the dance style, sir. I never associate with shameless people,” Rupert said sweetly.

"Dance style?" The man sighed. "Is the dance club about getting your arms and legs moving, letting people spontaneously express their joy to the music like monkeys? Oh, I almost forgot, you're from London... Londoners..."

The two men packed up the chessboard and prepared to leave.

“Bruno Mondes. We blame him for all our troubles. Mayor, sheriff, and also the land's 'temporary custodian'—anyone can find out where he lives. I think he's used to 'welcoming' you gold diggers from afar…”

…………

……

Bruno Mondes.

Mayor of Ildorsinser, concurrently Chief of Police, 'holder' of mines and land, and head of the mining town's finances, and...

When someone has a wide variety of titles, it usually means you should be careful about the upcoming meeting.

However, it was different in Ildossian.

Judging from the two middle-aged men playing chess, the citizens were only willing to push all the trouble onto their town mayor.

The next day, when Roland and his party arrived at the mansion of this man with many titles, it seemed to be true: no appointment was needed, no need to be mindful of the doorman's mood, no need to wait for good weather or to be properly dressed—Roland didn't even get to see the doorman.

Like ordinary citizens, they lived in single-story brick houses (perhaps larger and more impressive), enclosed by a fence with sharp angles, with yellowing ivy climbing the outer walls, and a clean dirt road.

In addition, you can hear one or two sheep tied up behind the house.

Rupert knew the moment she saw him that they wouldn't get along.

He was neither fat nor thin, with a square chin and wide eyes. He wore a brown fur hat that looked like it had been sewn on, the collar of which was starched white.

They walk slowly.

He wasn't surprised that the strangers in town, upon seeing Roland's attire (especially Dave Lawrence), first let out a long sigh.

"Good day... gentlemen... oh... and ladies." Even though the sun had just risen, she looked extremely tired.

"Good day, sir."

Roland introduced them one by one, and when he mentioned Dave Lawrence, the mayor gave him an "I knew it" look.

“I can swear to any god you believe in, sir. There really is no more gold here—the last piece, the size of a baby’s fist, was stolen by a barber eight months ago. I remember it clearly, and many people in town can testify to it.”

He skillfully cleared himself of any 'suspicion,' stating that apart from his eldest son who was studying in London, he was widowed and only had a young daughter to rely on, making it absolutely impossible for him to have any 'concealed private mining activities at opportune moments.'

In fact, this land belongs to the Mondes family, who also own a stake in the mine, so even if they were to mine it, it would be considered legitimate.

Legally speaking, he is the only one who is truly a legitimate miner.

just now.

This legal miner spared no effort in explaining to the outsider, even opening his chest to explain.

This sounds really weird.
"...Sir, you're exaggerating. Even if mountains of gold were piled up, I would at most be 'seeking cooperation'..."

Dave Lawrence bowed and smiled as he struck up a conversation.

It's possible that it doesn't actually exist.

It was hard to tell where his waist was; all I could see was that his entire neck was stretched out incredibly long.

It's possible that it doesn't actually exist.

I can't tell where my neck is.

“Of course I know, that’s why I don’t want to take up your time, Mr. Lawrence. I’m telling you the truth, there’s absolutely no way there can be any more gold here—let me put it this way, you may not believe me, but don’t you believe the greed of the last group of gold diggers?”

As the mayor spoke, he walked along the dirt road and invited them into his house as guests.

Dave Lawrence stopped flattering him and remained silent with a sullen face—he knew all too well the greed of the gold diggers.

The clearer he became, the more he understood that the more batches of mining operations there were, the more greedy people would try to extinguish his desires.

"...I have considered that, sir. But..."

But that's gold.

gold mine.

It's not the currently popular 'white coal'.

gold.

It needs no verbal explanation. Although it can't propel a carriage like 'white coal'... it can get people moving.

Make lazy men diligent, make virtuous women remove their skirts, make bandits polite, and make gentlemen display their ferocity.

It can make you sober, or it can make you go crazy.

It gives life, and it also makes people die.

The wise man said: Always remind yourself of what gold cannot buy.

And so, the gentlemen at the grape banquet spoke with great passion: My noble character! My love! My burning passion for the empire!

However, Dave Lawrence interprets the words of the sage from a different perspective.

He just wants you to remind yourself what gold can't buy, so that you can easily understand that everything else in the world comes from gold and goes to gold.

Lawrence himself didn't like to ponder the opposite of this statement in his early years.

The less you try to figure it out, the more life will try to teach you.

Until he started to enjoy learning.

(End of this chapter)