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

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Schweya."


In a small coffee shop outside the Liverpool Customs, Arthur took a business card from John Schweya's hands, glanced it briefly, and then slipped it into his jacket pocket.


The gentleman sitting opposite him was dressed rather oddly, his head wrapped in a dark black turban, his body draped in an indigo flannel coat that fell past his knees, beneath which was a wine-red vest sizable enough for Great Dumas, followed by a honey-colored rubber chest protector and two layers of a white shirt, and most peculiarly, he was wearing a pure white mask connected to a perfume bottle on his face.


It was naturally quite difficult to forget such a distinctive character, and Arthur couldn't help but jest, "Sir, you're lucky my jurisdiction is not in Liverpool. If you appeared on the streets of London like this, I'd definitely have to stop you and ask a few questions."


Upon hearing this, Schweya quickly removed his turban and mask, revealing his true face.


Chapter 284: 19th Century Early Access Experience