Chapter 705 Ch704 Visitors From the Court of Inquiry

Chapter 705 Ch.704 Visitors from the Inquisition

Enid Judya was very stylish.

This was for Roland’s sake, and also a pre-dinner soup for Taylor.

After all, Randolph Taylor had already shown his inclination towards the Inquisition and the Royal Party. At the same time, as the head of the Taylor family of this generation, he was also a close friend of Roland Collins.

Enid had to show her attitude and tell the eyes around her what the relationship between the Inquisition and the Taylor family was.

(It was not necessary, but because of Roland.)

So.

When she came, all the carriages on the street were forced to ‘dock’ in advance—no matter where your destination was or whether you were just passing by.

The beginning and end of Regent Street were full of executive officers in black church uniforms.

They guarded the entrances and exits meticulously, and used the face of all their relatives dead to face every passing carriage, coachman, and lady and gentleman looking out of the glass window.

It also scared a few children to tears.

They "suggested" these people of status to "temporarily" stop the carriage and wait until their chief judge leaves before waving the whip - so as not to get into trouble.

Please note.

This is not a threat.

Just a suggestion.

"So as not to get into trouble" can be explained as follows:

We are burners, black crows, swords that fight against evil all year round.

You and your family are noble, elegant, and lovers of sugar and cream.

We absolutely do not want this trip to cause the most noble and purest bloodline in London to be contaminated by unclean swords - even if there is a little stain, I am afraid that their chief judge will have to repent for half a month after returning.

- When they said these words, they still had a face that looked like all their relatives had died.

And with that face, they silently warned:

Do you want to be like us?

In short.

Suggestion.

The simple "suggestions" they expressed were understood by the gentlemen in the carriages who had been playing with words and conspiracies for years.

Soon.

The drivers received the master's instructions, calmed the horses, and stopped at the right side.

Otherwise, they didn't know when they or their children would be "called" cultists - although most people believed that the Tribunal would not dare to do so, but...

Who knows.

'Anyway, I won't be a fool. '

Everyone thought so.

Of course.

This uniform "order" can be considered "chaos" to a considerable extent.

Soon, the patrol police reported the matter and it was passed to the Supervisory Bureau.

The Supervisory Bureau, which has always been at odds with the Tribunal.

They sent people, but they were all blocked at the intersection.

"What on earth do you want to do?!"

The detectives of the Supervisory Bureau are not as "weak" as the patrol police. In other words, they come to make trouble.

They come with justice.

"Your presiding judge is even more pompous than His Majesty! Black Crow, I warn you, if even one of the people present today is injured--"

This is how the executioner responded.

"How dare you insult my presiding judge?!"

He was beaten by several executioners without bloodshed.

It took about five minutes.

Being beaten in front of all the drivers and passengers queuing to enter the street.

No dignity at all.

The last time they were beaten like this was when they were young and secretly broke into their father's peeing on their mother to ask for biscuits.

"…We are not disrespectful to Ms. Judia. Executor, we just think that what the court did today is really not--"

"How dare you insult the court?!"

Later, after being beaten several times, the detectives understood.

If you don't have the courage to go to war with the court, there is no need to get involved in this matter.

They only abide by their own rules, and they do it on purpose.

At first, Puxiu Collins was wondering why the streets were suddenly quiet. He leaned on the window and stuck his head out, almost frightened to death.

"You didn't invite His Majesty?!"

Roland said mysteriously: "Someone more powerful than her."

Randolph Taylor also arrived at this moment with his sister and Theresa - they were not in a hurry to enter the store, but stood on the street like other curious people, admiring the style of the court.

"Black church uniforms."

Randolph was impressed by the neatly arranged officers following the woman in the fire-colored long skirt:

"Like an army."

Enid was so beautiful today that it was hard to describe.

Not referring to the undulating curves, not the kind of woman who proclaims her nobility everywhere but has unwiped feces on her butt when she is naked.

She doesn't need to tell people "who I am" or tell anyone "wait and see".

No mistakes in one song, one post, one content, one book, one forum, one 6, one 9!

When she got off the carriage covered with gold lines, held onto the gold-wrapped carriage post, and landed on the stone pavement that smelled of candles and gold pounds, everyone's heart rang with the same voice:

This is a fucking noble person.

Or rather, the noblewoman in their imagination.

Not the "grace" that is so bloated that she can't even bend down to trim the hair growing everywhere on her toes, nor the "dignity" that can smell a stinky and rotten smell from under her skirt when she dances gracefully -

She wore a bright flame-colored long skirt and a wide-brimmed hat with black veil, as if the gods had blown the first handful of fire on the earth in their meditation before the creation of the world.

Beautiful and awe-inspiring.

"If I were a man, I would fall in love with her too."

Next to Randolph, the maid holding Betrith sighed softly: "Is this what Mr. Collins mentioned...madam?"

Bronte watched the woman burning her eyes like a fire, and her heart beat the increasingly intense drum beat.

"Enid Jutiya," Randolph replied in an equally light voice, "the presiding judge of the Holy Cross."

This is the appreciation of mortals.

Even if she has a black veil and a vague appearance, she still makes people yearn for her.

And as a ritualist who protects Randolph, or other ritualists on this street who are as profession as Patton.

It's another feeling.

They could ‘see’ the space, with every step of her, constantly slight distortions.

Just like the air above the flame.

‘Eight-ring ritualists. ’

Not to hide your own strength.

She showed her majesty to mortals, and at the same time, she also shocked those extraordinary ones.

Phuey Collins was in a daze.

He wanted to pee, but he felt it was impolite and wanted to shit, which was probably even more impolite.

He could not control his intestines and urine bubbles. He listened to the footsteps of "knocking", "knocking", and "knocking", and subconsciously clenched Yam Jones's hand.

The invisible momentum was twirling the needle at will, as if turning the morning to the time when the sunset was burning. It followed its owner to approach the tiny perfume shop step by step, and then, with the spreading smile, it shrank smaller and smaller, becoming softer and softer.

It's like a lion jumping into a cat with a stupid head and a soft belly.

"Day peace."

She paused at the door of the store, lifted the black veil covering her face, and greeted the person who went out to greet her with a smile that was enough to popularize the entire upper-class circle.

"I am Jutiya. Enid Jutiya, Roland's boss, colleagues, friends..."

Pause for a moment.

"It is also a guest of "Unold Spring". ”

Phuey Collins was pulled out by Yam, and he gave a stiff greeting with a stiff face.

Yam performed much better than him.

She had been instructed by Roland earlier.

"Hello, Your Excellency Presiding Judge. I am Yam Jones, the head of "The Spring of the Undead", of Roland Collins..."

She thought about it, and faced those eyes that were inexplicably surging with temptation, she straightened her chest and changed her tone:

"His mother."