The Shadow of Great Britain

487: Chapter 262: Core Technology (4K8) 487: Chapter 262: Core Technology (4K8) In the boxes at Astley Circular Theatre, celebrities bustled like clouds.

Among the officials and nobles, identities like former members of Parliament or Westminster magistrates, which could be flaunted before the middle class, had now become mere pawns.

Former MP Bernie Harrison and Magistrate George Norton squeezed into this six-square-foot box, peering out at the window to watch the dazzling performance onstage—where the protagonist Edmond Dantes of “The Count of Monte Cristo” was being framed and arrested on his wedding day.

Seeing this scene, Norton simply wrinkled his nose and muttered under his breath, “Dantes’ fiancée Maze Tess is nothing but a bitch.

I don’t believe she was oblivious to the plot against Dantes.

After Dantes was framed, this whore didn’t even harbor a doubt; instead, she turned around and married her cousin, Fernand, one of Dantes’ framing culprits, and had no psychological pressure marrying such a fisherman!”

Dantes was truly blind; how could he fall for such a heartless Catalan bitch!

As a sharp and capable sailor, he became first mate at a young age, yet it was because he misjudged a woman that his prime years were ruined in a prison on an island.

If it weren’t for the aid of a benefactor like Priest Faria, he would likely have rotted there for life.

Ha!

If Mr.

Dumas doesn’t arrange for Dantes to take revenge on that bitch in the following story, I’m definitely going to write to “The British” editors to protest!”

Harrison, holding a glass of wine against the table, said, “Oh, George, it sounds like you definitely haven’t read the latest issue of ‘The British.’

Norton, with a dark expression, replied, “I did buy the latest issue, but the day before yesterday I had a fight with Caroline.

I hurled a fork and plate at her, and she, in a fit of madness, tore all my magazines to shreds and threw them into the fireplace.

By the time I calmed down and wanted to buy another ‘The British,’ every bookstore had hung up a sold-out sign.

Damn it!

Why are their sales so good?

If you ask me, those people are being far too cautious in their business.

They could surely print more!

Are the shareholders and owners of ‘The British’ out of their minds to not take that money?”

Hearing Norton’s string of negativity, and knowing his friend inside out, Harrison knew that with just a few more prompts, he would get what he wanted.

He laughed, picking up the bottle to pour more wine for Norton, “George, if you ask me, you might as well skip the latest installment, or you might end up deeply disappointed and desperately frustrated.”

“What’s wrong?”

Norton downed the wine in his glass in one gulp and asked, “Didn’t the last issue promise that Dantes would take his revenge on his bitch fiancée Maze Tess?

I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.

Did Dantes shoot and kill the son of Maze Tess and Fernand in a duel?”

Harrison shook his head with a smile and sighed, “I’m sorry, George, but Maze Tess found Dantes before the duel to plead for mercy, and our Mr.

Edmond Dantes, the Count of Monte Cristo, with a heart of iron and silk, ultimately chose to spare his former fiancée and the son of his enemy.”

“What?!”

Upon hearing this, Norton angrily slammed his wine glass down on the small table, “Bernie, I swear to you, ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ is the worst novel I’ve ever read!

Alexander Dumas is nothing but a shameless charlatan fleecing money with his pen!

Damn it, I used to regard him as a master of the literary world, but now it seems he’s no different from those simpering, fashionable novelists!

I wonder who on earth would be willing to kiss his feet—certainly not well-educated scholars, philosophers, or successful gentlemen.

It would only be blacksmiths swinging sledgehammers, the tailors buried in their needlework, or the petty clerks who are poor but pretend to be grand, who would put him on a pedestal.

The Lion of Paris, how did they even come up with that nickname for Dumas?”

Harrison, pretending to drink to mask his awkwardness: “George, don’t get angry.

Not everyone has been to the London Zoo, nor have they seen the African savannah, so naturally not everyone knows what a lion looks like.

But I agree with your sentiment, Dantes truly had bad taste in women.

It’s just as Socrates said: A good woman can turn a man into a happy person.

A bad woman can turn a man into a philosopher.

George, you’re nearly a philosopher now.”

After hearing that, Norton couldn’t help but laugh at himself, “Bernie, thanks for the compliment, but my philosophical knowledge is nothing compared to Socrates.

The only thing I have in common with him might be that we both married shrews.

She understands nothing and knows nothing, yet she chooses to disagree with me on political views.

As the matriarch of the Norton Family, all she needed to do was to treat the family warmly and host guests gracefully.

But she prefers to write her damn novels and wants to spread her Whig Party views at every social function.

She also loves to meddle in the education of our children, truly causing me to lose face!”