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

But at the end of the day, he was still too young.


As a youth, it was natural for him to have a certain youthful exuberance, or perhaps, a fiery temper.


Gladstone kicked at the campfire, burning embers and sparks scattering into the air, clouding his vision.


"Benjamin Disraeli! Narrow-minded in politics, childish in thought, frivolous in actions, pretentious in speech, strutting around in yellow trousers, a green waistcoat, pointed leather shoes, a lace cravat, all smug and self-satisfied. You bastard! In what goddamned way am I inferior to you? Is it just because you know how to cozy up to Mrs. Sykes' skirts?"


Oh, my God! Can't you open your eyes and see what kind of creature Kent County has elected? It would be better to have elected a donkey; at least a donkey can bray and is smarter than him!"


Gladstone's white shirt was torn open, his gilded copper buttons strewn about, and his robust chest heaved visibly, clearly infuriated.


Chapter 286 What's the Life of a Police Inspector Worth? (7K2)_2