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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 · Fantasía
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350 Chs

Chapter 158: Cabinet Connection (4K)

In the hall, gentlemen who had been enjoying their game of poker threw their cards onto the table, perching on their chairs, and quietly discussed Arthur's background.

Although not every gentleman was a music lover, they were aware of the recent 'Paganini Craze' that had swept through London.

Whether willingly or out of obligation, almost every gentleman present had taken his wife or lover to listen to Paganini's solo concerts, even if they could not read the music scores, they always remembered the melodies.

"La Campanella?"

"Or the piano version."

"Since when did the London Philharmonic Association have another outstanding pianist?"

"Let me guess where he's from, hmm... not bald, perhaps from Vienna in Austria or maybe Paris in France?"

"Judging by the hair isn't very reliable; even the young gentlemen in Britain have abundant hair. But once they reach our age, it goes as it must."