The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 417 - 417 238 Why Are Things Always So Bad for Eld 7K2 Part 2

417: Chapter 238 Why Are Things Always So Bad for Eld (7K2) Part 2 417: Chapter 238 Why Are Things Always So Bad for Eld (7K2) Part 2 Well, by the time I write to you next, I should be sending letters from either Argentina or Tierra del Fuego.

Speaking of which, the jaguar that Eld hunted tasted really good; it’s just a pity that meat is difficult to preserve, or else I would have sent some back for you and Alexander to enjoy a good feast.

Of course, that’s assuming the merchant ship sailors tasked with delivering our letters don’t eat it themselves.

Your friend, witness to the Amazon Apocalypse, advocate for the equal rights of small crabs and large prawns, well-known gourmand of the Amazon and Andes, Charles Darwin.

July 5, 1831, written on the eve of my departure from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

The firewood in the fireplace crackled loudly, and the chill in the room had diminished significantly.

Everyone held their coffee cups, listening to Arthur read the letter, and with each sip of hot coffee, felt warmth spread throughout their bodies.

Great Dumas, upon hearing Arthur read the end of the letter, suddenly found the potato-filled pastries in his mouth less appetizing.

He muttered, “It’s just a crab; what’s the big deal about tasting it?

Why can’t you ask Charles to send more?

As for the jaguar, it can totally be made into smoked or cured meat!

Haven’t Charles and Eld ever eaten Bacon?

The method is the same.

And as for the toxic triggerfish…

heh, how would I know unless I try it?”

Dickens, sitting on the carpet with knees hugged, exclaimed, “Both of us are named Charles, but the Charles from Cambridge has seen much more of the world than I have.

Storms at sea, the Amazon Jungle, even color-changing octopuses and crabs that march and line up in formation.

If I didn’t know Charles, I would have thought he was making up these stories.

My God!

Who could imagine all this is actually real!”

Disraeli’s eyes suddenly darted, and he then suddenly presented an idea, “Arthur, these exotic stories are so topical.

It just so happens that our ‘British’ journal is short of articles.

If we slightly edit the manuscripts Charles sent back and publish them in the magazine, it would definitely help increase our circulation.

This way, we can also explain to our readers why ‘Monkey’s Story’ has been discontinued.

Ever since Charles and his party left, almost every issue has had readers complaining about his abrupt discontinuation.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur slightly furrowed his brow and said, “You mean to tell the readers that the author discontinued because he went off to work on ‘evolution’?

Hmm… indeed, that does sound like a sufficient reason.

And Charles’s letters are indeed fascinating; we could publish them under the name ‘Beagle Voyage Diary’ along with some illustrations from the specimens Charles sent back, which would certainly be very popular.”

“Hmm…,” Disraeli also nodded, “Exactly, and we have to use top-notch painters for the illustrations; we aren’t short of money for a few specimen illustrations.

When you have some time, come with me to the Royal Academy of Arts to look for someone.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur unfolded another letter hidden under Darwin’s, “What about Eld’s part, are we publishing that as well?”

Quickly opening a spectacle case and retrieving a frame of gold wire glasses without lenses, Disraeli responded, “Mr.

Carter’s manuscripts still need to be carefully reviewed; publishing erotic literature is illegal in Britain.

I’m about to run for office, and I certainly can’t afford to repeat Bernie Harrison’s mistakes.”

Great Dumas dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand, “It’s no big deal; we can just set up a Paris edition if it comes to that.

France has always been lenient about these matters.

And as I see it, Eld alone could carry the Paris edition on his shoulders.”

Arthur agreed, “Exactly, Benjamin, if you, as the major shareholder of ‘British’, face a scandal over erotic literature, you may indeed be unable to run for office in Britain.

But if you could change your constituency to Paris in time, you’d probably win by a large margin.”

“Or if you could persuade everyone to change the voting to a secret ballot, I reckon you could win in London as well.

But unfortunately, as it stands with named voting, gentlemen simply can’t vote as freely as they’d like.”

Great Dumas nodded, “That’s quite reasonable.

The citizens of Paris have always been open, but it’s different in London.”

Dickens laughed heartily and, pointing at Eld’s letter, urged, “Since it’s just us here, there’s no need to be secretive.

So Arthur, go ahead and read it quickly.”

As Arthur unfolded the letter, a scent of the ocean wafted towards him, and just as he was about to vividly narrate to the group, the first sentence on Eld’s letter nearly choked him.

Arthur, damn it, I almost got raped by a dolphin!

I bet you a penny, this dolphin probably dropped out of Oxford!

And after that, it even got re-educated at Cambridge!

Such damn bad luck, Rio de Janeiro is really my nemesis!

First, I was duped by two harlots out of my money, then I barely escaped a flood into Eden during an expedition in the Amazon Jungle; now, even leaving Rio de Janeiro hasn’t gone smoothly!

On July 5th, as we set sail from Rio de Janeiro to La Plata, I was just relaxing on the deck, basking in the sun and enjoying the salty sea breeze.

Suddenly, the blue sea erupted into white foam, and following that, hundreds of dolphins broke free from the sea, continuously leaping out and displaying their agile figures.