Chapter 713 Ch712 Manuscript

Chapter 713 Ch.712 Manuscript

Roland didn't have to cause this trouble.

A few days ago.

Someone invited him to practice piano at the Art Association.

It was still the piano room that belonged to Louis Hyman alone - or the extremely luxurious lounge.

After not seeing it for a few days, there was a lifelike stag specimen in the room.

The man tied up his red wine hair high, forming a wide waterfall. He wore a shirt and a gray vest, unwrinkled gray striped pants, and a pendant that looked like a musical note hung under his earlobe.

He held the red wine glass lazily.

"We haven't seen each other for a long time."

Louis Hyman warmly entertained Roland, personally poured tea for him, checked his progress, and played a song for him.

Just like a real friend.

"Don't you miss me, Roland?"

This ambiguous tone and words made people uncomfortable.

Roland frowned. He is not Rupert Benevento.

"I think we should talk about business, Mr. Hyman. You should also know that some people have been restless recently and have caused a big case."

Louis Hyman naturally knew what "Pearl" was.

He even tried it himself.

"It's in my ear, Roland. I put it in, lying naked in velvet, quietly feeling it pass through the gap of my ear canal little by little, and the soft, feathery tentacles gently caress the secret place that is difficult to reach..."

He met Roland and happily circled around him like a bird, and the heels of his leather boots kissed the cross-grained wooden boards to produce a drumbeat that was sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

"It makes me sad, Roland."

Louis Hyman lamented.

"In my ears, in my brain, on the thin slice of soul, it makes me sad."

"It says: son of a bitch."

"It insults me and praises me like this."

He waved the lace of his sleeves like a conductor, like a spring flowing through the cracks of rocks, sending every imperceptible sigh and ups and downs in the sound to the place he aimed at - he turned around Roland like this, and then went to the back of the curved chair and whispered to the back of Roland's head.

"...I pulled it out, almost, just a little bit, I almost got addicted to it."

Louis Hyman was excited.

"I almost thought I was willing, addicted, dying, wanting to swallow all my souls..."

His voice rose and fell, like a lonely singer on a dark stage.

"...Then."

He paused for a moment.

"I pulled it out and put it into the ear of a newborn baby. The soft little ear, with a gentle flick and a roll, it took root inside..."

"Guess, Roland. Guess, guess quickly!"

"What happened to the baby?!"

He became more and more excited as he spoke. He flew around to the front, his bloodshot eyes staring at Roland's face, forcing him to tell the horrible answer!

"Guess! Guess quickly! Quick!"

Click.

The metal hammer interrupted the madness.

Roland put his wrist on his knee, raised the muzzle of the Spider Kiss, and aimed it at the excited red-haired man.

"If you like brains, you can just tear open his skull. I've seen too many dead babies, Mr. Heiman. Newborns are tough, but it's just right for you to tear it open."

Roland was a little impatient, his golden eyes narrowed, and he yawned: "Yesterday, I caught the crazy woman who used pearls, and my pants were covered with shit... I'm busy, Mr. Heiman."

Louis Heiman moved the corners of his mouth.

Eyeballs moved down.

Silently moved away the leg that was close to Roland.

Roland:...

"Obviously, I can't come to meet you in pants covered with shit, Mr. Heiman."

Louis Heiman shrugged, picked up the muzzle of the gun, and slowly moved it away.

"That's not necessarily true, Roland. I heard that your executives don't care much about "details" - oh, I also ordered your perfume, wait a minute."

He quickly fled to the other end of the room, selected a bottle from the drawer, opened the lid, and sprayed the air with the amount of the Thames.

"It's worse than shit." Roland fanned his hands and frowned.

It was too thick.

"It's better than shit."

Louis smiled brightly: "I just miss you too much, my good friend - the one who should be my friend, right?"

"We probably can't be friends, Mr. Heyman, there are too many crazy people around me."

"Maybe you attract these people?" Louis Heyman walked around nonchalantly and sat down - but still kept away from Roland.

"Isn't it what you want to invite you, Roland Collins? The answer you want to know will soon be clear..."

Roland's face tightened slightly: ""Holy Flame". "

"Ah, of course, of course. Holy Flame, what a great, noble, selfless road..." Louis Heyman's expression was playful: "Let the most compassionate mortals step by step to the end of cruelty... Gods are always so ruthless, right? "

He threw the perfume bottle away and held his arms in front of his eyes.

"Is it God's ruthlessness..."

"Or..."

"Human's?"

Roland has had enough of the Riddler.

From Delis to Enid.

"Don't worry, Roland Collins, we still have a long time to endure the torture of each other... My dear Mr. Collins."

As he spoke, he found that the golden-eyed young man opposite him began to study the stag specimen, and he felt helpless.

"Okay, we agreed on a deal."

Louis Hyman spread his hands.

"I think you've inquired a long time ago, right? No one can tell you the 'cost' after the Eight Rings of the "Holy Flame". Except me, Enid Jutiya, and Keshhai—no one can tell you, so…”

He smiled.

"I'm a rare item."

Roland sighed, "That's right. Mr. Heyman, what do you want?"

The red-haired man joked and pretended to be serious: "Your ten years of life."

Roland nodded and stood up and said goodbye: "Then let Enid Jutiya die."

Louis Heyman:...

"Just do me a favor."

He had no choice but to deal with this person.

"You won't know it lately," Louis compromised. "Darwin, that blasphemous scholar."

"Oh, you're going to kill him?"

"I won't kill a living body again," Louis Heyman chuckled. "He's dead. Roland, go to him, I want his manuscript."

Roland was silent for a moment.

manuscript.

"Things about evolution?"

"No, it's a mechanical manuscript," Louis shook his head. "This gentleman is really amazing, and he has a surprisingly extensive knowledge - Roland Collins, I want his manuscript, a mechanical manuscript."

“Bring it back.”

"I will tell you the secret after the Eight Rings of the "Holy Flame". ”

"Is it a deal?"

Louis Heyman looked at the contemplative man and savored: "Believe me, you can't get this deadly secret elsewhere... Of course, if this matter makes you embarrassed..."

"Just pretend I haven't said it, how about it?"

manuscript.

Roland must figure out the problem with the Holy Flame.

Because he guessed that Enid didn't say it, not just targeting him - she might...

It cannot be said.

A strange thing?

contract?

"I have a question," Roland couldn't help but wonder: "Why me?"

If you have to, with Louis Heyman's ability, too many rituals will be happy.

"Oh, haven't I told you?"

The man with long burgundy hair squinted his eyes and looked strange.

He looked at Roland like a work of art.

Dead artwork.

It seems to be looking in the mirror again.

He learned Roland's posture, raised one leg, put his palm flat on the non-existent cane, which was crossed across his knees, and then he turned his head slightly to the right.

“We’re very similar.”

The room was quiet.

Roland felt as if countless people were whispering around him.

Just pressed against the ears.

They stared at themselves...speak.

"You're like me, or I'm like you. Mr. Collins, which one do you like?"

"Not one," Roland lowered his eyes: "I agree to this deal."

"So, deal?"

“The deal was completed, but not enough.”

Louis lowered his legs and slowly leaned forward: "Oh, what do you want?"

Roland thought for a while: "Strange thing, no, it's better to be a secret organ."

"Impossible. You know how rare secret organs are."

"That depends on how important the manuscript is to you."

"I'm afraid Enid Jutiya is important to you, too."

"She won't die now, Darwin's manuscript might be."

Louis Heyman turned his face dark.

"You have learned a lot of despicable tricks from your friends."

"We are all despicable, Mr. Heyman. What makes you feel noble?" Roland laughed: "We are all rolling in the mud bark. It is said that when you were a kid, you were-"

Bang!

The invisible sound waves penetrated the entire lounge, leaving messy scratches of varying lengths on the walls.

It was as if it was slashed by an invisible blade.

He bounced from the chair, gasping, and stepped angrily to Roland, staring at him condescendingly.

Roland saw a thin layer of sweat appearing on his face.

"When you get the manuscript, I'm discussing terms with me...Roland Collins."