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The Shadow of Great Britain

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.” Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?” The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?” Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!” “Oh!!!!” The audience erupted into thunderous applause. “Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately. The applause grew even more fervent... (The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)

Chasing Time · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
485 Chs

Chapter 102 Dickens's Request

At number 4 Whitehall, inside the third-floor office of the Greater London Police Department.

Arthur stood in the office, which formerly belonged to Police Commissioner Taylor Clements. His gaze passed through the transparent glass windows, encompassing the bustling Trafalgar Square, the Parliament Building, St Martin's Church, and the tree-lined avenues in front of Buckingham Palace in the distance.

This was the very heart of Great Britain, and Arthur, at this moment, was standing firmly as one of its inconsequential parts.

Agares had his feet up on the desk, comfortably reclining in the chair, with Red Devil's slender fingertips picking up a book from the desk. It was John Locke's "Two Treatises of Government".

He opened the book at will, turned to the page marked by Arthur, and carelessly read out the words on it.