The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 250 - 250 169 LPS's New Army 5K

250: Chapter 169 LPS’s New Army (5K) 250: Chapter 169 LPS’s New Army (5K) At twilight, in the Bayswater district, at 36 Lancaster Gate.

It was supposed to be dinner time, yet today, the atmosphere inside the living room was different from usual.

Great Dumas, Darwin, the neighboring Disraeli, and even Mr.

Eld Carter were all fervently writing at their desks, making a final sprint to fill the main content of the first issue of the new magazine.

However, in an environment so quiet that only the rustling of writing could be heard, a noise as jarring as a drill doing renovations shattered the tranquility.

Eld’s frown deepened with each passing moment, and, unable to tolerate it any longer, he suddenly slammed the table and roared upstairs, “Arthur!

If you plan to open a cotton-spinning mill, you might as well go to Lancashire, there’s no need to torture us in London like this.”

As soon as Eld’s words fell, footsteps could be heard on the stairs, and Arthur came slowly down with the violin Wheatstone had given him.

He spoke with a bit of helplessness, “I used to think that music was universally understood, but it seems there is still some distance between a pianist and a violinist.”

Eld glared at him, snatched the violin from his hands, and asked, “Why can’t you just write something about your detective cases at Scotland Yard when you have nothing better to do?

The magazine is sorely lacking in content right now, and as one of the shareholders, you should step up during the hardest times, shouldn’t you?”

Arthur shrugged, “A series of detective stories?

What should I name it?

A main title ‘Hastings Case Files’?

A subtitle ‘Monkey’s Study’, or ‘Hounds from Nottingham’?

I feel these titles and themes might be accused of plagiarism if they were written.”

“Plagiarism?” Eld said, “I haven’t seen any detective novels where the detective is the protagonist on the market anyway, so who would you be copying?

Besides, isn’t writing novels more profitable than working as a policeman in Scotland Yard?

If our magazine succeeds this time, there’s no problem with an annual dividend of thousands of pounds.

Plus, once the novels are finished, you can publish them separately, making another big sum.”

Arthur, seeing the glint of gold in Eld’s eyes, gestured with his hands for him to calm down and asked, “Speaking of which, what are you planning to write for the magazine?”

Eld, intrigued that Arthur took interest in his masterpiece, finally could not suppress his long-dormant literary heart.

He straightened his collar and began seriously.

“Look, now Benjamin plans to serialize ‘Young Duke’ in the magazine, Alexander is serializing ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’, Charles the reporter is serializing ‘The Pickwick Papers’, our museum Charles is planning to write an educational reading ‘Monkey’s Story’, and Tennyson from Cambridge has prepared a ‘Collection of Lyric Poetry’.”

“Now we have content that’s fashionable, educational, and lyrical, but what we lack is a bit of substantial history.

So I plan to adapt legendary stories from our England into a popular novel that’s easy to understand and loved by the people.

I’ll give you a hint, the character I’m going to write about is from my hometown, Nottingham.”

As soon as Arthur heard this, he immediately guessed what Eld was planning to write, “You mean Robin Hood?”

Eld exclaimed in surprise, “Arthur, you truly live up to your history studies at the University of London, the students from our University of London have always been top-notch.”

Arthur responded calmly to Eld’s praise, “I think the level of our University of London students could stand to be a bit higher than that.”

Without skipping a beat, Arthur then furrowed his brow, touched his chin, and said, “However, I vaguely remember ‘Robin Hood’ being Alexander’s work?”

Great Dumas, hearing this, merely leaned back in his chair and said, “You actually got that right, that scoundrel Eld asks me nine out of ten words, his novel is almost indistinguishable from what I wrote.”

Upon hearing this, Eld retorted angrily, “What do you mean nine out of ten words?

Who suggested creating a story based on Robin Hood?

Who collected the related materials?

And who holds the decision-making power regarding the direction of the story?

I merely asked you a couple of questions.

Look at how petty you’re being.

If someone didn’t know any better, they might think you’ve got Dutch ancestry.

If you keep this up, I won’t take you out with me next time!”

As the saying goes, you’re short-handed when you take from others and tongue-tied when you eat from others.

Seeing how agitated Eld was, Great Dumas could only purse his lips and then quietly stopped speaking.

Eld, seeing him fall silent, was finally satisfied.

He turned to Arthur and said, “But seriously, won’t you consider writing a detective novel?

I even had my sister ask her girlfriends, and it seems those young ladies are quite curious about how Scotland Yard detectives handle cases.

If you could produce such a book, I’m sure it could drive our magazine sales up a notch.”

Arthur, seeing how passionate Eld was about him writing a book, didn’t outright refuse.

He just patted the violin that Eld had taken, and said, “I can, of course, write a book, but I need to sort out the concert business first.”

“A concert?” Eld was stunned for a moment before slapping his forehead, “Damn, I almost forgot about that.

You agreed to be the pianist for the London Philharmonic Association, didn’t you?

Oh crap, Arthur, sometimes I really can’t help but envy you.

Apart from matching you in personal cultivation, I’m outdone by you in practically every other area, especially when it comes to making money, we’re worlds apart.”