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 night in Liverpool was cloudless, stars filled the sky.


Adjacent to the dock, Arthur opened the window in his hotel room, savoring the salty sea breeze from the Irish Sea.


The dock was crowded with merchant ships from around the world. Although it was nighttime, the ships still had their kerosene lamps lit.


Sailors confined to their ships, unable to disembark, held beer mugs in their hands as they cursed the port authority's expensive yet poor-quality meals while complaining about Britain's Parliament's ineffectiveness.


The land was within sight, yet they were locked in cabins filled with the stench of sweat and vomit, bound to remain there for forty more days.


Perhaps it was the recent dock riots that had the Liverpool authorities on edge, or perhaps Arthur's array of titles that unnerved them, but today, there were noticeably more military police at the docks than usual.


Chapter 285: Hastings with Insightful Eyes