The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 161 - 161 116 The Philosophy of the Devil

161: Chapter 116 The Philosophy of the Devil 161: Chapter 116 The Philosophy of the Devil London’s persistent drizzle had continued for two days, and Arthur sat at the desk in his bedroom, with droplets of water clinging to the exterior window glass, behind which a thin layer of mist veiled the interior window.

He reached out to wipe the condensation from the window, and only then could he faintly make out the maple leaves fluttering in the wind in the nearby Hyde Park through the water beads.

In Agares’s hand was a crystal-clear goblet, and judging from the radiant fresh red liquid in the glass, the wine must have been quite expensive.

The Red Devil resembled a finicky medieval nobleman as he first brought his nose to the rim of the glass to gently sniff the fragrant aroma of the wine, then delicately sipped the sweet aftertaste, and finally poured the wine slowly into his throat, only after feeling the burning heat rising in his belly did he contently close his eyes and exhale with satisfaction.

Agares placed the goblet beside Arthur, and excitedly began, “Arthur, although I rarely praise others, I must say, that Frenchman’s taste for red wine really agrees with my palate.

Ever since he started living under the same roof as us, our standard of living has soared as if from Heaven to Hell!”

Arthur rubbed his face, his hair a messy tangle, dressed only in a nightgown because he had taken a day off from Scotland Yard and had not yet properly tended to himself after getting up.

Arthur, arm resting on the back of the chair, looked sideways at the Red Devil, “So, according to you, the living conditions in Heaven are worse than in Hell?

It seems the priests do have a problem with their promises to the faithful; live a life of goodness and piety, and you still can’t secure a good final resting place after death.

It seems going to Heaven isn’t a blessing, but rather a curse.”

“Oh!

My dear Arthur,”

The Red Devil covered his mouth, laughing as he placed his two jet-black nailed, sword-sharp hands on Arthur’s shoulders, “You don’t understand, for those kind and weak souls, ascending to Heaven is a good end.

But for a strong and powerful villain like you, there’s nothing better than going to Hell.”

Arthur, looking at the mottled leaves stuck to the window, tapped his fingers on the desk and asked, “What do you mean by that?”

Seeing that he seemed to have piqued Arthur’s interest, Agares leaned in and lowered his voice, “Because in Heaven, the weak still get a bite to eat.

But in Hell, as you know, it’s survival of the fittest; either you’re fed fattened and full, or you don’t even get to eat shit.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur sighed faintly, “So you’re saying Baal kicked you out of Hell just so he could monopolize all the shit down there?

Agares, I know you’re a proud Devil, but there are some things you just can’t eat, right?

Besides, if you really wanted to eat that stuff, the Thames River’s full of it.

There was no need to fall out with Baal over such a trifle.”

The Red Devil’s face turned at those words, his erstwhile refined, kindly expression instantaneously turning dark.

“Arthur, damn you, you can insult me, but you can’t insult my personal taste!

Do you really think a gentlman demon as elegant, graceful, educated, and embodying high society values like myself would stoop to eat shit like Baal, that sort who sits among flies?”

“Yes, right, I understand,”

Hearing this, Arthur remained silent; he rubbed his forehead where his hair was disordered, pushing the goblet Agares had used across the table with frustration, “From now on, you’ll use this goblet to drink water.

Be careful not to break it; a new one like this is quite expensive.”

Upon hearing those words, Agares instantly felt a surge of rage that sent flames roaring above his head, and the Red Devil started jumping up and down in fury, pointing at Arthur’s nose and cursing loudly.

“Arthur, what the hell do you mean by this?

You don’t trust me?!

Are you planning on betraying the Devil now after you’ve already betrayed the worker class?”

Arthur’s initially casual gaze suddenly sharpened as he turned his neck, his dark pupils locking onto the Devil’s red eyes.

But it wasn’t long before his gaze softened and became desolate once again.

The fleeting sense of triumph the Red Devil had gained from infuriating him also dissipated instantly, and Agares appeared somewhat dissatisfied.

“What’s wrong?

Aren’t you angry?”

Arthur crossed his ten fingers behind his head and took a deep breath before exhaling sharply, “Angry, of course I’m angry.

You probably don’t know, but the first English sentence I learned was ‘I am angry.'”

“Is that so?

Is that what your elders taught you?”

“Not the elders, a senior.”

“Really?

Someone older than me?” Agares frowned deeply, apparently displeased, as he perched himself on the corner of the desk.

“Since you’re angry, then why don’t you throw a tantrum?”

Arthur propped his arm on the desk, supporting his forehead as he spoke, “Because I have been educated, I understand that getting angry upon hearing an opinion contrary to yours suggests that you subconsciously feel your own viewpoint isn’t sufficiently justified.

If someone insists that two plus two equals five, you’d feel pity rather than anger.

Agares, if I want to be angry, it means that I’ve actually agreed with your point of view.

Since I’ve agreed, there’s no need for me to be angry.

After all, what I’m looking for is a truth that can convince myself, not to vent my spleen at you, which is something children would do.”

“Oh… what expression should I make now?

Perhaps I should be moved to tears?

Waaah…

Arthur, would that make you happy?”

The Red Devil clenched his fists and twirled them by his eyes, pretending to cry, but quickly his face twisted into a spiteful smirk, “My dear Arthur, I suggest you save those words for the ladies and misses at this weekend’s party.

Perhaps you can deceive them into bed with that kind of talk, but Professor Agares isn’t about to forgive you just because of your little speech.”

Arthur shrugged, “Isn’t forgiveness humanity’s business with God?

Agares, I didn’t know that you also offered that kind of service.”

“God?

Please, please stop bringing up that old blockhead.”

The Red Devil sneered, “Do you know the premise under which he’s responsible for forgiving everyone?

Being able to offer forgiveness isn’t exactly a good thing for that old chap himself.”

Arthur pondered the Red Devil’s words, glanced at him, and shook his head, “You’re speaking in riddles to me again.”

No sooner had his voice faded than he heard his room door being pushed open.

Eld was holding the door frame with one hand and clutching the doorknob with the other.

His face lit up with excitement as he spoke, “Arthur, are we going to listen to a science lecture or watch a play this afternoon?”

Arthur turned his body to face him, not knowing how to respond to the enthusiastic face of Eld.

Seeing his expression, Eld couldn’t help but whistle, “Brother, why do you look so dejected again?

Surely Scotland Yard hasn’t fired you?”

Arthur replied helplessly, “Worse than that.”

“What happened?”

Arthur scratched his head, feeling somewhat embarrassed to discuss the matter, but he knew he couldn’t dodge the inevitable.

He sighed, “Don’t you know?

I led the Scotland Yard police in suppressing a workers’ protest yesterday.”

Eld stroked his chin, pondering for a while, “Did anyone die?”

Arthur shook his head, “No.”

Upon hearing this, Eld raised his eyebrows, whistled, and gave Arthur a thumbs-up, “Awesome!”

Arthur was taken aback, then replied with mixed emotions, “Eld, I don’t need your praise, I don’t think there’s anything honorable about it.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?

I can’t just scold you, can I?”

Eld spoke nonchalantly, “Besides, isn’t it the very nature of Scotland Yard police to handle such matters?

The workers march to get their bread, and the police suppress them to earn theirs.

No one died on either side, and the workers’ concerns were raised to the higher-ups, and Scotland Yard proved its importance.

Isn’t that enough?

So, tell me, are you going to the play this afternoon?

I’m afraid the ship will be fixed soon and we’ll have to go out for sea training.

I must hurry and spend the money I’ve saved, Arthur, I’m really in a rush.”

Arthur pursed his lips upon hearing this, “I think you should pick out a suitable new outfit this afternoon.

I plan to take you to General Cordington’s private party this Sunday as my scientific assistant.”

At this news, Eld’s mouth hung open wide enough to fit a fist, “Arthur, my dear brother!”

Impatiently, Arthur asked, “What is it now?”

Eld covered his mouth, moved to tears, “Now, even if you had killed workers in the suppression, I would have to forgive you!”

Arthur didn’t know how to respond, he pursed his lips and dismissed him with a wave of his hand, “Get lost, idiot!”

Eld slammed the door shut with a bang, and the room fell silent once more.

Gazing at the Red Devil sitting on the table, Arthur spoke, “He said he forgives me.

Does that mean, even someone who graduated from the University of London’s Classics department can play God?”

Agares heard this and didn’t respond directly.

He just smiled and nodded slightly.

Seeing his reaction, Arthur snorted, “Then God must have really high standards.”

Usually, the Red Devil would have joined Arthur in mocking God at times like these, but this time he refrained and instead said,

“Arthur, you’re too young to understand that all that is pretty is not necessarily beautiful.

As for beautiful birds, they are not all made up of beautiful feathers.”

Arthur looked at him, “What are you talking about now?”

Agares flipped through the parchment scroll, pushing the glasses up on his nose, “Just like you used to say, ‘be their King, not their God.'”

Arthur hesitated, and pressed, “Why?”

The Red Devil’s lips curled into a smirk; his eye sockets held crimson eyes, and within those scarlet pupils reflected unknown gears turning and secrets sealed behind them.

His ethereal figure slowly vanished into the white muslin curtains, and after a long while, only the echo of his voice remained in the room.

“Because even if humanity were to overthrow the most wicked King in the world, they would not act with the indignant righteousness as they would smashing harmless old idols…

Arthur, remember, if you cannot control others, others will control you.

Strive to liberate yourself from the dominion of others.

If you fail to do so, you will soon discover, they are your Hell…”