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

The evening's cold wind, accompanied by a light rain, swept into the private box, soaking the curtains that hung by the window.


Bertrand's brow was beaded with sweat; glancing at the briefcase filled with banknotes, as a swordsman with excellent vision, he felt as if he could discern the sharp edges of each note.


Arthur looked at him with a smile and said, "So, Mr. Bertrand, what do you think?"


Bertrand snorted, his hand pressing down on the lid of the briefcase with a snap as he closed it. He stood up and glared at Arthur, "Mr. Hasting, are you trying to buy my honor with money? I, Francois-Joseph Bertrand, the glory of modern swordsmanship, the representative of French foil! Measuring my worth with British Pounds, this is by far the greatest insult I have suffered since my birth!"


Upon hearing this, Arthur could only sigh helplessly, a hand pressed to his brow as he gently shook his head, "Louis."


Chapter 251: The Grandeur of the Sword Saint (5K6)