The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 95 - 95 55 The Early Human Bungee Jump Business

95: Chapter 55 The Early Human Bungee Jump Business 95: Chapter 55 The Early Human Bungee Jump Business Arthur and the sailors engaged in a verbal and gestural battle, but due to the language barrier, both sides could only express their strong aggressiveness through various gestures.

Upon witnessing this scene, Agares couldn’t help but cover his mouth and laugh, “Oh!

Arthur, do you still think it’s a good thing if all humans spoke the same language?”

“The Bible states that the Tower of Babel was never completed because God made humans speak different languages, preventing them from communicating with each other, hence they scattered in all directions.”

But I must tell you, it is not the case at all.

God wouldn’t interfere in the affairs of the Mortal World.

The failure to complete the Tower of Babel was entirely due to human reasons: mutual suspicion, forming cliques, dividing into groups, true equal cooperation often only exists in the realm of fantasy.

Humans always like to credit themselves for the good things and blame God for the bad things.

Whenever a disaster occurs, they clamor about it being punishment from God, completely omitting their own causes.

And whenever they wish to do something, they drag God into it as a banner, claiming it to be the divine will.

This is the hypocrisy of human nature—if you treat them well, they think you’re weak and can be bullied; if you treat them poorly, they actually consider you strong and powerful.

The problem with this world lies here: the wise are always full of doubts about the truth of the world, while the fools steadfastly believe in their fallacies without question.

Arthur, believe it or not, just by drawing your gun, you could immediately intimidate these fools?”

Glancing at the Red Devil, Arthur retorted, “Cut it out, Agares.

Those who remain defiant with a gun pointed at them are usually out of their minds.

The first prerequisite for being human is that one must survive; otherwise, they’re not humans, just corpses.

So, does drawing a gun necessarily relate to what you’re saying?”

Seeing that Arthur was not heeding his words, Agares didn’t mind and just sighed.

“Look, Arthur, continue to deceive yourself.

But I don’t blame you, after all, I understand that lying is also in human nature; most of the time, you don’t even dare to face yourselves.”

Arthur ignored Agares’s provocative words; he was very clear about what he had come to do today.

If he were to draw his weapon now, it might scare off his target.

The reason he was using his mother tongue for ‘a cordial and friendly exchange’ with the sailors was also intentional.

Sure enough, after bickering with the sailors for a while, he felt that someone had already set their sights on him.

It was a young lady dressed in sky-blue pleated skirt, wearing a sun hat at an angle, and holding a lace-trimmed parasol.

Perhaps because Arthur had learned too much chemical knowledge from Faraday recently, where most people would feel compassion towards such a charming young lady, he involuntarily started to make a chemical analysis.

From her milky, almost flawless snow-white skin, it was apparent that she must have used plenty of poisonous cosmetics with excessive contents of arsenic and lead.

And from her blood-red, striking lips, it was clear that only a vermilion lipstick with a high cinnabar content could produce such a hue.

Those soulful and expressive eyes also struck Arthur as slightly unnatural.

The only time he had seen such large pupils was in animations.

And in keeping with the recent fashion trends of London’s ladies, he could almost surely conclude that she had applied eye drops of deadly belladonna.

To the average man, she might appear to be an enchanting young lady worth worshipping, but to the amateur chemist Arthur, she was also a walking periodic table.

While Arthur was observing the young lady, she was in turn observing him as well.

Shyly turning her body, she walked past the street corner and dropped a lace-embroidered handkerchief.

Arthur rushed forward, kicking open the sailors who were ready to move first, and while they were still unresponsive, he slipped away like greased lightning.

“Damn it!

Catch that kid!”

“That little wench is mine; she’s been throwing me sultry glances earlier.

Those who know better should hand over the handkerchief pronto!”

“Bullshit, she just asked me to take good care of her business!

Look at your face, all wrinkled like a piece of dried-out jellyfish skin, would she even take a second glance at you?”

The sailors, who hadn’t seen a woman in months, were like bulls in heat under the stimulation of male hormones and chased after Arthur with red eyes.

However, the bustling crowd hindered their progress, and seeing they couldn’t catch up to Arthur, the sailors with excess energy started fighting among themselves on the spot.

Several heavy punches later, some had bloody noses while others were missing half a tooth.

Arthur, who had gotten the handkerchief that the sailors had been dreaming of, hid in the shadows of the street corner.

He carefully unfolded the handkerchief and saw a winding stone arch bridge embroidered on it, with an enticing red lip print on the edge of the bridge.

Upon seeing the handkerchief, Arthur couldn’t help nodding his head.

The counterfeit merchant Martin hadn’t lied to him after all, the mark and the technique matched up; this was the “Little Brothers of Cambridge” signature modus operandi.

Considering the help he had this time, Arthur decided not to smash Mr.

Martin’s business when he eventually opened his pub, at least for the time being.

Agares peeked his head out from behind Arthur, and the Red Devil couldn’t help but let out a series of mischievous chuckles, “Oh, looks like someone’s about to have an encounter of the romantic kind.”

Arthur just snorted through his nose, “Are you sure?”

No sooner had he spoken than he felt something approaching him.

A pair of delicate arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and the voice of a young girl, accompanied by an enticing fragrance, emerged from behind him.

“Sir, fancy a bit of fun?

I come cheap.”

Arthur turned around, looking at the girl who only reached his chest, and smilingly pulled out a couple of notes, rubbing them against her face.

He brought out his thick Chinese accent, practiced for over a decade, fumbling word by word.

“Fun, of course, fun.

You, make me happy, reward, salary, very big.”

The girl, upon hearing this awkward accent, couldn’t hide the hint of joy that slid through the corner of her eyes.

She clung to Arthur’s arm, pressing tightly against his chest, trying not to let Arthur see her expression.

Taking advantage of their height difference, the girl signaled with her eyes to the little boy guarding the street corner.

The boy, getting the signal, slipped his hands into his pockets and sauntered away into the alley.

Seeing him leave, the girl let out a slight sigh of relief, then began to chat up Arthur cheerfully while clinging to him, her slender hands starting to wander inappropriately.

“Sir, your accent doesn’t sound local, which ship did you come off of?”

Arthur lightly grabbed her wrist that was sliding into his pocket, and said, “Don’t touch my things; if you want something, make me happy, then I can give it to you.

I’m British, but born in India, so my accent sounds like curry.”

“India?” the girl exclaimed with delight, “Then you must run a spice ship, right?

Sailors on long voyages tend to make a decent income, you must have made a good amount this trip?”

Arthur did not directly answer; he glanced at the girl’s flushed face and then patted his bulging trouser pocket, “I said, make me happy, the reward, the salary, will all be very big.”

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