The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 173 - 173 124 The True Purpose of Agares

173: Chapter 124: The True Purpose of Agares 173: Chapter 124: The True Purpose of Agares The sky over London was misty, but changes in the brightness of the sun behind the clouds still revealed that it had long passed its zenith.

With time, it would gradually descend toward the pitch-black surface of the Thames River.

On the great avenue of Baker Street, a black carriage embellished with golden decorations moved steadily.

Seated on the carriage was a stern-looking British gentleman with slicked-back shiny hair.

His rigid high collar, washed with starch, was tied with a standard yet novel plain white bow tie, and between the bow tie and the deep black vest, one could glimpse the lace pintucks adorning the front of his white shirt.

Over these, he wore a streamlined black tailcoat that fit like lily petals at the outward-standing collar, paired with a carefully designed waist that accentuated the wearer’s figure like a glass vase, along with similarly dark, cone-shaped trousers, a shimmering silver-white damask glove on his left hand, and a new cane held in his bare, slender right hand.

At first glance, the gentleman exuded an indescribable air of nobility from head to toe.

The cold wind at the end of October swept through, the moisture in the air clinging to Arthur’s face, intensifying his sensation of the biting cold.

He couldn’t help but pick up the black top hat from his lap and put it back on, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.

The Red Devil was lying sideways on the seat opposite him, and Agares carefully examined his attire, nodding with considerable satisfaction.

“Arthur, that’s a splendid outfit.

Wear this to all future banquets, and I assure you, you will make those naïve noble ladies cry and wail for you.”

Usually, Arthur would have retorted to Agares’s flattery with sarcasm, but now, he really wasn’t in the mood.

He only felt that this outfit was even more uncomfortable than his Scotland Yard uniform, perhaps because when he had ordered this attire, he had specifically emphasized its importance to the tailor who, in pursuit of a perfect fit, had tightened it at the shoulders and midsection.

At this moment, Arthur even wondered whether flexing his biceps would rip through the entire outfit, leaving him indecently exposed on the bustling Baker Street.

If it was merely uncomfortable to wear, that would have been bearable, but putting on this outfit had been a huge challenge, especially the bow tie on the high collar, which he had had to have the banquet specialist Great Dumas tie for him because he couldn’t manage it on his own.

For Arthur, it would probably be easier to carve a dragon and phoenix on a criminal’s body with a rapier than to tie an exquisite bow tie or manage a pintuck.

Worse still, the price of this ensemble greatly exceeded Arthur’s expectations; in total, the entire attire cost him £15 and 6 shillings.

Even though he was now a Scotland Yard inspector with a weekly salary of £2 and 12 shillings, spending over a month’s wages on a suit felt excessively extravagant.

Agares, seeing the twitch of his mouth, understood what he was thinking.

The Red Devil consoled him, “Arthur, since you’re so pained by spending money, why do you keep up the bad habit of browsing bookstores?

That ‘London Social Guide’ you bought yesterday cost 23 shillings alone.

A casual novel, just two to three volumes long, dares to charge you two to three pounds, forty to fifty shillings.

And you, you indulgently own a large case full of books.

Though I admire your insatiable thirst for knowledge as a petty criminal, sometimes you really should control your insatiable desires.”

“Don’t you get it?

Your love for reading is one of the reasons you were poor once.”

Arthur, holding back for so long, finally couldn’t resist anymore.

He calmly retorted, “Agares, just because you can solve all the mysteries of the world, don’t you allow me, a humble human, to explore the realms you already know?

Or do you want to keep me ignorant to enhance your own value?”

The Red Devil couldn’t help but cover his mouth and snicker, “Oh, Arthur, aren’t you overestimating the knowledge humans possess?

You’ve read so many books, so you should understand a principle.

The more a human knows, the less he actually knows.

The less a human knows, the more he tends to think he knows a lot.

That’s why I dislike making deals with ignorant humans.

Even if you teach them the truth, they think you’re just spouting nonsense.”

Arthur responded, “Isn’t that exactly what you’d want?

For those types of people, you just need to agree with what they say to gain their trust, and fooling them into parting with their souls is incredibly easy.”

Agares cleaned his ears with his little finger, speaking, “That would be too boring.

Arthur, in some ways, you and I are alike, both enjoying challenging work.

Life has little meaning, not just for humans but even for devils, so we must find our own fun.

To live just for the sake of living—what then is the difference between a human and a monkey?”

Arthur, upon hearing this, couldn’t help but complain, “Stop bringing up the monkey bit, that term has been used so frequently lately, it makes me doubt the significance of Charles’s research results.

Alexander, Eld, Charles, and I, attacking each other daily with monkeys, only to realize, startlingly as if awoken from a deathbed, that the monkey was myself.”

Furthermore, Agares, I must remind you that I am not of the same disposition as you.

I do not enjoy challenging tasks.

My greatest desire in life, has been, is, and always will be, to sustainably lay flat.

The only reason I’ve gotten to where I am today is because you bloody forced me.

If you had just let me quietly go to the American colonies, I might already have made my first bucket of gold by now, either by selling water or sewing jeans.

With that money, I could set up some family businesses in California, like buying a large piece of land in Santa Clara Valley.

Then, in the future, whether it’s Apple, Google, or Facebook, they would all have to heed the Hastings Family.

Agares frowned, staring at Arthur with a look as if viewing a fool, “Wake up, Arthur, I think you have gone crazy with reading.

Face book is already out, you might as well learn more from Eld, read more Erotology Book.”

“Besides, you’re not doing too bad now, serving as a young superintendent at Scotland Yard.

If you could swallow your pride, making five or six hundred pounds a year would be a piece of cake, wouldn’t it?”

When Arthur heard this, he wanted to loosen his tight collar, but as his hand reached up, he realized it was inappropriate.

He said helplessly, “That’s easy for you to say.”

Upon hearing this, Agares couldn’t help but let out a smirk, “You see, you verbally express the desire to lay flat, but deep down, you feel guilty.

Don’t you understand why you have turned yourself into this mess?

You are like me; we both want to earn money while standing.

That is why I was banished from Hell.

And you, if you don’t change soon, it will not be long before you repeat my errors.

You are still resisting entering the realm that you should have entered long ago, but, Arthur, I must tell you, you truly belong there.

You must understand, civilization is the creation of a few elites; they are the top of the pyramid.

The bricks at the bottom exist solely to elevate them higher, to bring them closer to the sun.”

You can reason with one or two bricks, but you can never reason with a heap of them, since they are uneven and misshapen.

So, to make them all understand, you can’t tell them ‘we are square or round bricks’; you cannot even tell them ‘we are bricks’, because some among them think they are not bricks.

You can only yell at them ‘we all need to get to the top’; only by using this kind of simple and absurd logic will you be accepted.

Even if you wish to motivate them, never discuss the complexity of the world with them, nor offer explanations and clarifications; in times like these, intellect often shakes their minds, thereby weakening their fighting spirit.

Because all universal beliefs in this world are a form of fiction, they never withstand scrutiny, they perish upon inspection.

After all, as you know, there’s only so much space at the top of the pyramid.

If every brick piles up there, that’s no longer a pyramid but a foundation that everyone can step on.”

Arthur, hearing this, stared at Agares and couldn’t help but ask, “Agares, I must say, I understand you less and less.

What exactly do you, a devil, want from me?”

The Red Devil, hearing this, did not respond; he just lightly sniffed the sheepskin scroll in his hand, then disappeared with the wind.

When his figure solidified again, Agares was atop the Gothic spire of the Royal Music Academy’s clock tower, constructed of red brick.

He watched Arthur’s carriage disappear at the end of the street and then, with interest, picked up the feather quill tucked inside the sheepskin scroll and from his pocket took out a dried-up ink bottle.

He widened his eyes and looked inside the bottle, finding the ink long ago used up.

Seeing this, Agares reached into his pocket and threw a fresh small colored ball inside.

A painful wail that could tear souls ensued, and at last, a drop of crimson ink congealed inside the dried-up bottle.

Agares gently dipped the quill into the ink bottle, then spent a long time observing the poor drop of red ink on the tip before looking up at the empty sheepskin paper in his hand, eventually unable to help but curse.

“Damn it, it still isn’t right…

If I let him keep going like this, it will sooner or later turn into a losing business…

No, I must get him something new at this banquet…”