The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 619 Ch.618 Harddolf

Randolf decided to bury his father in Porto Port.

He thought.

This was probably what his father expected.

The heartbreaking days of pain finally ended, and what replaced them would be permanent, endless pain.

The second half of Bellos Taylor's life proved one thing.

Proved the error of the wrench.

When dealing with funeral matters, Randolf showed some dissatisfaction with his mother and the organization, and also spread his emotions to the "primitive people" - this arrogant and fanciful race.

Although he also had a share.

Roland comforted him, saying that he didn't need to be too harsh on a person who pursued ideals and beliefs. In just a few months of his executive career, he had seen many believers who were more "crazy" than Jocelyn Cavendish - even if he didn't count the cultists of the Cradle of Flesh and Blood.

Aren't the believers of the Great Whirlpool annoying?

Mr. Merchant couldn't understand.

He believed in the Father of All Things, but only a little bit - probably not more than believing that cats can bring disasters.

He just believed in it based on a principle learned in life, followed the most currents, and took the broadest and least criticized right path - if everyone converted to the Cradle of Flesh and Blood one day, then Randolph Taylor would instantly change his position and become the most loyal supporter of the Mother of Abnormality.

This is also the reason why many ritualists and even the upper class hate businessmen.

They think that these people have no real faith.

They only see interests.

Or, they regard interests as faith.

Such people are undoubtedly terrible, slippery, and should not be respected.

On the contrary.

Randolph does not understand this group of people either.

"At least I will not give my sister mercury for "purification" and "exorcism."

He finds it difficult to understand his mother's pursuit, and even the pursuit of ritualists and nobles - in Randolph's view, nothing in the world is more important than two things.

One, yourself and your family.

Two, making money.

"They spread rumors that we would sell our mother, sister and daughter for profit. That's ridiculous, Roland. Is it us who decide whether 'nobles and merchants' should be matched?"

Randolph, dressed in black, leaned against the carriage with his arms folded.

He and Roland came to the Ring of Eternal Silence in Porto Port to choose a tomb.

"Our own country... Oh, it's so incompetent and stupid."

Since his father's death, his disgust for the 'primitive people' has risen to a height that cannot be raised any higher.

He dared not imagine that if the "Hanging Key Secret Society" developed and grew among mortals, what a brainless and ignorant group would emerge - the ignorance of the ignorant lies in believing in themselves or some wisdom that does not actually exist, just like before...

"Just like the former Inquisition, Randolph."

Roland took over softly.

"But it is fundamentally different."

Randolph nodded: "At least the monks of the church don't keep saying 'We are the only creators of God'..."

The person in charge of the Ring of Eternal Silence received Randolph and Roland.

Because someone was so rich, this second-ring ritualist in charge of the "worldly" also promoted his second and third daughters when selling the tomb - this servile appearance made it difficult for Randolph to overlap him with Hayon.

Both are ritualists.

But they are very different.

Later, it became clear that the locals were more willing to bury their relatives in the cemetery of the "Great Whirlpool" - compared to the Ring of Eternal Silence, they believed more in the goddess who controlled the four seasons of nature, whether they lived on the ocean or simply rocked on the sea all year round.

The "Great Whirlpool" in Porti is like the "Holy Cross" in London.

As a result, the "business" of the "Ring of Eternal Silence" is not very good.

The low-end cemeteries are empty, and the high-end tombs are rarely visited - after waiting for a big family to die, they found that they were intercepted by the Great Whirlpool.

As the person in charge spoke, his shriveled face showed an emotion similar to "We have never been wronged like this."

But it was just as Randolph wished.

The highest-grade cemetery was "clean and tidy."

It would be best to bury only his father.

"Fifty-eight pounds, sir, the tomb is protected by my Lord..."

He bent over, revealing a mouthful of black teeth that were too corroded, and the bone pendant and the wine jug hanging from his waist collided with each other.

"Fifty-eight pounds?"

Randolph paused.

The person in charge was stunned for a moment, and quickly changed his words: "No! There are cheaper ones-"

"I mean, it's too cheap."

Randolph waved his hand to interrupt, broke off the white ash, and revealed a handful of burning cigar heads.

"How much does the highest-grade tomb in the "Great Whirlpool" cost?" he asked.

The person in charge hesitated for a moment: "... One hundred and twenty pounds, sir. But I promise! Their false god does not have the power of my Lord! After the living leave this world, my Lord will protect their fragile souls and lead them into the pale and eternal kingdom..."

"The "Maelstrom" doesn't have this ability. Their false gods..." The person in charge looked around and lowered his voice: "...false gods won't spend much effort, and there is no way to guide every soul that leaves..."

Randolph frowned: "I want the best."

"Yes! Yes! Of course! It must be the best! The most sophisticated!" The person in charge smiled, bent his waist a few degrees, and said in a lower voice: "...How much do you plan to donate?"

Finally, Randolph decided to bury his father in the cemetery of the Ring of Eternal Silence.

But he requested that there be sculptures of the Great Whirlpool and the Holy Cross in front of the tomb, and that monks from three sects should preside over the ceremony.

At first the person in charge did not agree.

Until Randolph impressed him with Taylor's 'piety'.

——The other two sects were also moved in this way.

"Port Porti is still poor. If it were in London, it wouldn't be at this price." Randolph said casually when leaving.

He has held funerals for his friends, which in London cost three times more.

"By the way, why don't you use it?"

Randolph was referring to the strange object.

He didn't know the function, but since the 'coordinates' left on it had lost their effectiveness...

"It's called Waveweaver. "Getting on the carriage, Roland pulled out the surging transistor from the inner lining: "It's the sea monster's throat. Those who drink it have the power to control the waves..."

he said.

"You don't plan to give it to the ritual performers in the family? From now on, the Taylor family's trade will be protected from wind and waves."

"No. Because it's not cost-effective."

Roland: “What’s ‘not a good deal’?”

Randolph smiled and turned around to explain: "The annual loss will be controlled within a certain range. Even if this number is multiplied by ten, it will not be as big as the return on your investment. What's more, the link with the greatest loss is not the ocean section."

Roland rolled his eyes: "I'm glad Betty didn't learn to speak like you."

That's with you.

Randolph pouted.

When Beatrice spoke to her brother, she usually gestured with her palms facing up.

‘Want to buy. ’

'money. ’

However, Teresa quietly told him that, except for paints for painting, Beatrice had never bought any expensive jewelry or clothes - Teresa and Bronte had all picked them out for her.

Later, Randolph caught the little guy and asked her where the money went.

The girl pulled a suitcase from under the bed.

It was filled with a mess of tickets and scattered gold pounds.

‘Save it for Roland. ’

Randolph spoke with a slumped face, while Roland smiled expressionlessly on the side.

"Betty is so similar to my father," Randolph pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned, "This is not good..."

Roland squinted: "Aren't you the same?"

"Me?" Randolph raised his eyebrows and pointed at himself: "Am I the same as Betty?"

Perhaps it was the apathy inherited from the Cavendish family.

He thinks that he, his sister, and his father are all different.

He is more able to look at emotions calmly and rationally, weigh other substances attached to emotions, and choose the most reasonable and smooth path between the pros and cons.

He can't be said to be a complete businessman, but at least he is much better than his father and sister.

Roland nodded: "I heard that someone spent a lot of money to buy a publishing house for a writer who is not yet famous..."

Randolph:…

Someone argued forcefully: "Actually, this is a reasonable investment. You don't understand, Roland."

Of course Roland could accept this answer and nodded heavily: "The Queen should cut military spending and invest in your mouth. It is much harder than steel. With you, who can sink our ship?"

There was a pause.

"Except for female writers."