The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 977 - 48 Crater_2

Chapter 977: Chapter 48 Crater_2

This great military genius acutely sensed the opportunity and discovered that he was destined to become the inheritor and grave robber of the Great Revolution. Who elevated Napoleon to the emperor’s throne? The republicans would say it was the efforts of those ignorant provincial farmers, refusing to admit that they themselves played the most significant role.

This truth they failed to grasp half a century ago, and even today they remain oblivious. But regrettably, I must tell them: due to your unrealistic and selfish nature, you have long ignored the provincial farmers who make up three-quarters of the population. I can vaguely see the eagle flag of the Empire once again planted on the high hills outside Paris. Soon, you will reap the bitter fruit of your own making once more.

Arthur Hastings

Written on the eve of the 1848 presidential election of the French Republic.

——Eld Carter, "The Arthur Hastings Letters"

Arthur walked out of the alley, and a light rain began to fall over the streets of Paris. The cold raindrops beat against his face, the cold and heat exchange clearing his mind significantly, and the ebb of adrenaline made him gradually aware of the burning wound on his shoulder.

Arthur leaned against a lamppost, paying no attention to the pedestrians coming and going on the street, and lit his pipe to himself.

Just as he was lighting the pipe, a red-nosed robber with a knife suddenly dashed out from the alley, brandishing the bright blade menacingly at Arthur and threatening, "Sir, do you want to do it the easy way, or shall we do it the hard way?" Correct content is on )

Arthur glanced at him, took the pipe from his mouth, leisurely blew out a puff of smoke, and then lashed out with a kick to the robber’s groin: "Screw you! Robbing me on the road, huh?"

The robber clutched his groin and fell to the ground, wailing and shrieking. Just as Arthur was about to leave, a shout suddenly came from behind him.

"Arthur, have you caught them?"

Arthur turned his head, and it was none other than Victor and Great Dumas, who had been following him.

Upon hearing them, Arthur looked down at the robber on the ground and spat, saying, "Robbery leads nowhere; let me give you a piece of advice, you should become an assassin."

Great Dumas ran up to Arthur, the black fat man bending over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath: "Arthur, who is this on the ground?"

"What do you think?" Arthur did not directly admit, but hinted with Scotland Yard’s blue lobster’s usual tactic: "Why do you think I took him down?"

Seeing the situation, Victor also exclaimed with delight: "Man, you’re something else! You even managed to catch him? Looks like you’re going to become famous in Paris!"

"No, Mr. Victor." Arthur slightly shook his head: "This is all thanks to the Breaux Detective Agency; I’m just a temporary worker you hired."

Victor was taken aback for a moment, then appreciatively patted Arthur on the shoulder: "Buddy, you’re willing to give this credit to the agency?"

"What else could I do?" Arthur muttered, smoking: "Could I, a Briton, leverage this to become the Minister of Police in France? Mr. Victor, this case should be enough for you, right?"

Victor, overjoyed, nodded repeatedly: "Buddy, I’m riding on your coattails now. Our Breaux Detective Agency is definitely going to make a name for itself!"

Arthur removed his hat and fanned himself: "I’ll leave him to you; I need to find a clinic to get my wound bandaged."

"No problem, go ahead." Victor added at the end, "The agency will cover your medical expenses."

Seeing Victor so eager, Arthur did not refuse but waved his hat in goodbye to him.

The robber, upon seeing Great Dumas and Victor rushing at him, was so frightened that his lips quivered: "You called people, didn’t you? Don’t think you’re the only ones with people around; my brothers are nearby too. If I give a shout, nobody will walk away alive."

Victor, hearing this, was not scared but instead let out a cold snort, kicking at his chest: "Shout! I’d like to see how big your gang is!"

Great Dumas saw Victor punching and kicking the robber and advised, "Mr. Victor, that’s enough; you’re almost matching the Security Department’s torture methods..."

Arthur, braving the fine rain of Paris streets, started walking back along the path he came. He hadn’t gone far when he saw a group of Dragon Cavalry and National Guard soldiers rushing past; needless to say, they were also chasing the assassin.

Arthur did not wish to speak much with them, for his mood tonight was really bad.

At such a moment, he suddenly felt that being a police officer in London was actually quite good. At least, at that time, he had clear goals and disciplinary requirements, with no need to express his political stance. When facing a test of conscience, he could always deceive himself with the "internal regulations."

Now, he slowly understood the true meaning of what Talleyrand had told him back then.

If one cannot remain calm in the face of blood, in painful situations, and in the presence of clear evidence, one cannot become a surgeon.

If one cannot remain calm before passion, one cannot be strong; if one cannot remain indifferent in the midst of events, one cannot become a politician or statesman.

He truly wasn’t cut out to be a politician; he was only suited to being a policeman. The feeling of being an insignificant social tool was actually quite good.

Arthur walked back in the rain, occasionally looking up at the pitch-black sky.

The sky in London was drizzly and misty; the weather in Paris wasn’t much better.

"Is it... Sir Arthur Hastings?"

The carriage stopped beside Arthur, and a delicate hand holding a handkerchief extended out of the curtain.

Arthur turned to look; it was a familiar face, appearing somewhat nervous, perhaps with a hint of surprise.

"Didn’t you bring an umbrella? You can use the handkerchief to wipe your face. Although I’ve heard that due to the frequent rain in London, Londoners generally don’t like to carry umbrellas. But walking like this on the street, you’ll get sick when you return."

Arthur stared at her face, lost in thought, until Miss DelaSalle blushed before he came to his senses, doffing his hat in thanks: "Thank you for your concern."

He took the handkerchief, wiped his face, and then returned the handkerchief, which had his name embroidered in gold thread.

Miss DelaSalle watched him, cautiously asking, "Did you get separated from your servant? Fortunately, you weren’t hurt. The events at the Kaidao Sai Mansion tonight were truly terrifying. If you don’t mind, you can ride with me. Where do you live? I could give you a lift."

Hearing this, Arthur was somewhat surprised and asked, "No, I don’t mind, but you... wouldn’t your husband mind?"

"Husband?" Miss DelaSalle blushed and replied, "Sir, I do not have a husband; it was my father who accompanied me today. But after the explosion tonight, he was called to a meeting. So, there are available seats in the carriage now."

Upon hearing this, Arthur thought for a moment and finally asked politely, "I’m not very familiar with the situation in Paris, but for an unmarried lady like yourself, is it appropriate to sit with me?"

Miss DelaSalle nodded repeatedly: "Of course! My footman is accompanying us; we won’t be alone together. Paris is not as conservative as London."

"Then I should gladly accept your kind offer. Thank you for your generosity."

Miss DelaSalle had the coachman open the door for Arthur, and Arthur got on the carriage as the wheels began to turn again.

Arthur first glanced around the warmly decorated carriage but didn’t know what to say while sitting inside. He could only start talking to Miss DelaSalle, bit by bit, about tonight’s events.

"Were you injured tonight?"