Chasing Time

“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)

The Shadow of Great Britain

Today's London was still shrouded in fog, mixed with a drizzle of rain, and the wind seeped through the window into the room, chilling the just-entered Arthur so much that he couldn't help but shiver.


Arthur pushed open the door, folded up his umbrella, and placed it in the umbrella stand by the door; as he untied his scarf, he spoke, exhaling white breath, "Charles, take a seat wherever you like."


Dickens folded his umbrella and glanced up at the gloomy room, jokingly saying, "It's awfully dark in here. Doesn't Alexander usually light the lamps at home?"


"Depends on his mood, but he's indeed not home today. At this time, he's either at some restaurant on the corner of London streets, critiquing the dishes, or he's at one of the small theatres watching a play."


Arthur placed their soggy boots by the windowsill and then turned on the oil lamp that sat on the dining table.


Chapter 236 Dickens's Love Story (4K6)