The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 319 - 319 203 The Troublesome Imp and a Special Feature Article 7K_3

319: Chapter 203: The Troublesome Imp and a Special Feature Article (7K)_3 319: Chapter 203: The Troublesome Imp and a Special Feature Article (7K)_3 The Red Devil’s mouth curled up in a smile so wide that it almost reached his ears.

His red tongue swept back and forth over his sharply pointed white teeth as he spoke in a sycophantic tone, “Oh, my dear Arthur, after behaving yourself for half a year, you’re finally planning to make a move again.

How about I raise the stakes for you?

If you can take down the entire British Parliament, I’ll reward you with the crown.”

Hearing this, Arthur merely raised an eyebrow, “Agares, don’t think for a moment that I’m unaware of what you’re plotting.

If the MPs were all sent packing by me, they’d force Baal to sign the ‘Great Charter’ in Hell and implement constitutional monarchy.

What’s the matter, you deposed commander, planning to become Hell’s Cromwell amidst the chaos?

Or perhaps, you want to imitate Napoleon and bellow at the soldiers of the Demon Legion, ‘Hell, your Duke has returned’?”

With that, Arthur awkwardly followed Disraeli’s footsteps with his newly purchased cane, limping along.

Agares was left standing there, dumbstruck.

After a long while, he suddenly slapped his thigh and exclaimed, waking himself from his stupor, “Arthur, you bloody genius, how did I not think of that?

Wait for a moment, why don’t I add something more to the deal?”

Having just caught up, Arthur saw that Disraeli had somehow struck up a conversation with someone on the road in front of the Home Secretary’s residence.

The ambitious young editor, whose ultimate life goal was to be known as the ‘British Caesar,’ quickly noticed Lady Norton emerging from the residence’s main entrance, accompanied by the Viscount Melbourne, the Home Secretary.

The proud young man showed no intimidation in the presence of prominent figures; on the contrary, he rode on his gradually improving reputation in the British literary world to strike up a conversation with Lady Norton.

Disraeli doffed his hat and began, “Lady Norton, it’s been too long.

Since our last gathering, I’ve been persistently requesting your contributions.

It’s such a coincidence to meet you here today; why don’t we settle the matter of your article right now?”

Lady Norton was clearly surprised by Disraeli’s appearance.

Before she could respond, the baffled Viscount Melbourne asked, “Caroline, who is this gentleman?”

Recovering from her initial surprise, Lady Norton hurriedly introduced him, “William, this gentleman is the author of ‘The Young Duke’ and, at the same time, the editor of ‘The British’—Mr.

Benjamin Disraeli.”

Upon hearing this, Viscount Melbourne amiably took off his glove and extended his hand to Disraeli, “Pleased to meet you, Mr.

Disraeli.

It is unexpected that someone of your youthful age has achieved so much.

Caroline has previously recommended ‘The British’ to me, telling me it’s an excellent magazine, and she relies on it to pass the time during her idle hours.”

Delighted by this, Disraeli’s face blossomed into a smile, “That’s nothing, your Excellency.

To be frank, being the editor of a literary magazine is just a minor note in my life’s journey.

In my heart, I harbor an even grander ideal.”

Viscount Melbourne merely smiled in response, “Is that so?

And what might your ideal be?”

Disraeli stood tall and confident, “One day, my dream is to work in the office on the street adjacent to Whitehall, yes, I am speaking of Number 10!

Mark my words, I will become the Prime Minister of this country.”

Though Viscount Melbourne knew arrogance was natural in the young, someone as unabashed as Disraeli was still a rarity.

If Viscount Palmeston were here, he might have mocked Disraeli for his presumption, but luckily, Viscount Melbourne wasn’t the sort to dampen someone’s spirits.

He replied diplomatically, “A commendable ambition, it’s truly praiseworthy to have the courage to speak such words.

However, before you head off to work at Number 10 Downing Street, perhaps you might consider stopping by Whitehall…”

As he said this, Viscount Melbourne suddenly spotted Arthur limping toward them and pointed at him behind Disraeli, “As you can see, among the young Britons of your age, I consider this gentleman one of the most exceptional.

Perhaps when you have the time, you could benefit from interacting with him.”

When Lady Norton saw Arthur approaching, she lightly raised her hand to greet him, “Mr.

Hasting.”

Arthur, too, took off his hat and responded politely, “Pleased to see you, Lady Norton.”

Lady Norton, noting Arthur’s limp, asked in surprise, “What…

What happened to you?”

Arthur simply replied, “Nothing serious, I am just getting accustomed to my new tool.

You might not be aware that I have recently been appointed to be in charge of intelligence work at Scotland Yard.

To ensure I do not stand out in various situations, I am diligently learning to adopt the mannerisms of different identities.”

Upon hearing this, Lady Norton realized and said, “So today, you are playing gentleman with a genteel limp?”

“Well…

something like that, my lady.” Arthur pondered for a bit before he sheepishly said, “However, to be precise, today I am actually playing the role of the French ambassador, Mr.

Talleyrand-Perigord.”

As soon as Arthur spoke these words, even the usually stoic Viscount Melbourne couldn’t help but laugh, “Arthur, that’s quite enough, I just dined with Mr.

Talleyrand last week, and he seemed to think highly of you.”

“Oh?

Is that so?” Arthur feigned ignorance, “He should have let me know.”