Chapter 58 – Silver Horse (2)

When I was writing in the 21st century, I lived in Seoul for a while.

Well, isn't that typical? Over half of our country's population lives in the capital area.

I remember a passage from Isabella Bird Bishop's travelogue: "Every Korean's heart is in Seoul. No matter their social class, those living in Seoul don't want to live away from it, even for a few weeks." It seems that Korea has always been that way.

Personally, it wasn't because I liked it.

It's just that, considering job concentration and the efficiency of infrastructure compared to the cost, people inevitably flock to big cities.

And cities continue to grow, absorbing new people and thriving.

Anyway, the reason I'm bringing this up now is...

Bang, bang, bang!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

...because I was experiencing something in late 19th-century London that I had only felt in 21st-century Seoul.

Kaboom!

The sound of dynamite exploding assaulted my ears as the ground trembled and collapsed.

Clouds of dust spread everywhere. What a reckless demolition job... No, that's not what's important.

What's truly important, and why I felt like I was back in 21st-century Seoul, is because...

"A construction project of this scale...?"

It's not like London doesn't have construction projects. In fact, it's not uncommon for buried gas pipes to burst, leading to road closures and upheaval.

But the scale of this was extraordinary.

Being on a street higher than the surrounding area, I had a clear view of the process, making it even more apparent.

An entire area known as Whitechapel was being completely levelled.

Brick walls were crumbling, new materials were being moved in, and countless day labourers were walking around with dust-covered shirts.

It looked like every construction union in London had been called out for this.

"What's this, some kind of redevelopment?"

Yeah, it reminded me of the redevelopment projects in the capital area.

In all the years I've lived in England, I've never seen anything like this, so I was utterly bewildered.

What's going on? Is there something I don't know?

I thought I was pretty well-informed, which made it even more shocking.

Where's a newspaper? I need a newspaper.

Eventually, I grabbed a passing newspaper boy and bought a copy of The Times.

And then...

"Buckingham Palace Announces Major Whitechapel Redevelopment Plan!"

"Priority Housing Allocation for Existing Residents..."

"Wow..."

I couldn't help but be amazed.

Buckingham Palace? That must mean Queen Victoria, so she's pushing through such a massive public relief effort?

And the fact that it's happening this quickly means she didn't get parliamentary approval, which implies she's using her private funds. For Queen Victoria, famous for her conservatism, to spend her own money on something like this is truly astonishing.

Is it because they say people change when they're near death? And come to think of it, the Victorian era is indeed nearing its end.

'But wait, did anything this bold happen in the original history?'

Hmm... I'm not sure.

I don't remember, but I don't know every detail of history. Maybe it was one of the many policies quietly implemented.

It's sudden, but if you ask if it's unwelcome... definitely not.

"Well, yeah. It was necessary."

The complex layout and still underdeveloped infrastructure were indeed subpar for a City of London's stature.

However... what concerns me isn't the redevelopment itself, but the fact that the businesses run by the Alice and Peter Foundation are near that area.

It doesn't overlap completely, but it's close enough to be significant.

I had accounted for various factors, including financial ones, when setting up shop there, but if this happens, it'll practically become a central location.

"Wow... I hope they don't accuse me of land speculation."

Well, I'm not directly involved with that side, so there shouldn't be anything to hold against me... but maybe I should prepare just in case?

I'll have to call Lionel when I get back.

***

The Royal Navy, representing the British Empire where the sun never sets, officially does not have an "invisible" unit.

This unit supposedly consists of a few dozen to a hundred men, but no one in the Navy knows anything about it.

However, there are rumours—rumours that some members bear an uncanny resemblance to someone from the Foreign Office, or that others look suspiciously like officials from certain embassies, or that some are frequently seen entering and leaving Buckingham Palace...

But even so, such a unit doesn't exist. At least not officially. Since they're not on the military register, they might as well not exist.

And if you asked whether they felt it was unfair to be treated this way, Captain Wraith, a member of that unit, would confidently say otherwise.

Someone has to do the job, and he's being well-paid for it, so there's nothing to complain about.

Of course, that doesn't mean...

"Your Majesty, I apologize, but I believe this task falls outside the purview of the intelligence service."

"Is that something you dare to decide?"

Captain Wraith thought to himself as he presented the book, which had been smuggled into the palace after a gruelling journey that could have taken days to describe.

This wasn't what he had signed up for, he thought.

Honestly, it was a book he could have fetched in just a few minutes if he'd gone outside.

But to acquire it through such immense smuggling efforts, espionage, and even personal sacrifices (mostly related to his pride) felt like a waste of manpower and taxpayers' money. Yet, he couldn't voice these thoughts to the master he deeply respected.

After all, she was the ruler of everything in this world.

All Captain Wraith could do was bow his head quietly.

And Queen Victoria, who had assigned this simple yet not-so-simple book-fetching task, shamelessly asked:

"Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The internal conflict within the Liberal Party has reached a critical point."

"Oh?"

Victoria twisted her lips.

The Liberal Party traditionally represented the left wing of the British Empire. Like the legendary commoner-born Prime Minister, William Ewart Gladstone, they repeatedly advocated for a "Little England" policy, often opposing Victoria's actions at every turn.

But now, those same fools were tearing themselves apart.

For Victoria, this was an advantage.

"Can Primrose manage to mend that rift?"

"It's unlikely."

"Of course not. That gentleman could never handle it."

The Queen's lips curled into a sinister smile.

Even Gladstone couldn't find a solution and had to resign—what chance did this greenhorn have?

"Now then, who do the Tories have? The Marquess of Salisbury, perhaps?"

"He seems to be the leading candidate."

"Hmm."

Victoria frowned.

Robert Gascoyne-Cecil, the Marquess of Salisbury.

A towering figure of the Conservative Party and the political successor to Benjamin Disraeli, who stood toe to toe with Gladstone. There was no doubt that he was an excellent statesman, on par with his mentor.

He had already served as Prime Minister a couple of times and had proven his capabilities. He was incomparable to the likes of Primrose.

However, his somewhat passive and reactive nature didn't align with Victoria's expansionist tendencies.

'In that respect, Primrose's more proactive stance would have been a better fit.'

Why do I have such poor luck with ministers?

Victoria sighed and nodded. Unless something extraordinary happened, she would likely have to appoint the Marquess of Salisbury as Prime Minister, but...

—Do you love the people?

—Loving the land where one was born and raised is a natural thing for any person.

Suddenly, she recalled words she'd found distasteful but memorable. Frowning, Victoria muttered to herself.

"To care for the people, to let them grow and flourish, is ultimately to care for oneself."

"Your Majesty, did you give an order?"

"Salisbury... won't do."

Captain Wraith blinked briefly.

What could be causing this hesitation? But then he closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"As you wish."

He was a wraith.

The queen to whom he had sworn loyalty, Victoria, had established a principle of reigning over the empire where the sun never set, without directly ruling it.

And the role of the wraith was to ensure that the Queen's reign could indirectly achieve governance, serving as her invisible eyes and ears.

Therefore, it was not his place to guess the Queen's thoughts.

"I must arrange a meeting with Gladstone."

"Understood."

Captain Wraith bowed his head and withdrew. Now that the Queen had made her decision, there was nothing more for him to do.

Left alone in the room, Victoria slowly looked down at the book Wraith had procured.

Peter Perry and the Radiant Light.

It was already the seventh book. Queen Victoria smirked as she gently stroked the cover.

"Hmph, he keeps churning them out, doesn't he?"

He is diligent, that's for sure.

She murmured softly, recalling the young Asian man she had met back then.

Did that arrogant foreigner have any idea what she was doing for him now?

As he had suggested, she wanted to extend her hand to see the future of an empire where the people had grown and prospered.

In a way, it meant that her policy direction had been influenced by a foreigner, and that was something she should have paid close attention to... but she had done her own research in the meantime. As a result, she now had a rough understanding of his country of origin, characteristics, and inclinations.

Isabella Bird Bishop's report, which compared the countries and geography of the Mongolian races, had been particularly helpful.

"Taller and better-looking compared to the Chinks or Japs... indeed, it matches her report."

Moreover, although it was a rough overview, the country called Joseon was still a backward medieval nation compared to Japan. So, the initial concern that he might be a spy was now practically non-existent.

Not that she had ever seriously suspected it, but that's how a ruler's mind works.

Now that his origins were certain, she could simply relax and enjoy herself.

"Honestly, how long will I have to endure such hardships in my later years?"

Would it hurt for Parliament or her son to take care of things on their own without needing her intervention?

With a light grumble, Victoria slowly opened the book.

At least, after she had made her position clear once before, the recent content had been something she could enjoy with peace of mind.

She started reading with a bit of anticipation, but only briefly.

The betrayal of the fairy Reese, who had loyally supported the protagonist.

The destruction of Excalibur.

And the alliance with Alvis, who had been an enemy.

As Peter Perry raced through a deadly rollercoaster of a plot, Queen Victoria clutched her chest.

Seriously contemplating whether she should have this damn Chink arrested on charges of attempting to assassinate the queen...

***

The Savoy Theatre.

"Hmm, so these are the candidates for the second audition for the role of 'Peter Perry'?"

"Yes, we've scouted as many as we could."

Mmm... Richard D'Oyly Carte reluctantly nodded. Most of the leading and supporting roles had been cast, but the most important role, the protagonist, was the issue.

Of course, he knew that a teenage boy should ideally play the role of a teenage boy.

But in operettas, a teenage role required a lot of stamina. Often, the process led to voice changes, so high-pitched tenors were even more affected.

That's why, when necessary, they sometimes cast a young woman in her twenties to play the role of a teenage boy. It was that difficult.

For this reason, Carte considered this audition to be extremely important.

But no promising talents had appeared yet. Not that there had been no worthwhile candidates.

For example, the boy named Sidney, whom he was looking at now—Carte was thinking of offering him a contract even if he didn't get the role in the audition.

Although he still had a lot to learn, Carte had a gut feeling that, with proper training, Sidney could become the company's star.

In any case, while casting the lead was a problem, there was an even bigger issue at hand.

"So, what about the role of Reese, Director?"

"Hmm... I was just about to ask. So, what's the outcome?"

"It's a disaster."

"Damn it."

At his son's blunt response, Richard D'Oyly Carte frowned.

Reese, the sylph librarian who had appeared from the first volume of Peter Perry and was one of the crucial supporting roles, couldn't be left out.

Though her scenes were few, they were impactful. Properly played, it could be a career-making role, so he had planned to use a child actor he had been eyeing... but the recent plot twist, revealing her as a villain, had caused her popularity among child actors to plummet.

"Seriously... the author should have at least given us a heads-up."

"What do we do? At this rate, it's going to be a rigged audition."

"We have no choice. We'll have to pick from whoever shows up."

"But there's only one."

"Bloody hell."

No choice, then.

If it comes to that, they might have to give the role to the kid who didn't get the part of Winky, or maybe just cut Reese entirely and merge her with Winky.

Oblivious to the fact that such a statement would have made Hanslow Jin breathe fire, Richard D'Oyly Carte let out a deep sigh and looked over the single audition application for the role of Reese.

"Charlie, your mom used to be a bar singer, isn't she?"

He must be good at singing.

He said this with little expectation, tossing the stack of papers aside carelessly.

End of Silver Horse (2).