The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 814: Chapter 379 Black Black Heart (6K2)_2

“Damn Blue Devil, we are here for the people, but you, why are you here? For that mouthful of rotten food you beg for or for the lukewarm praise from your masters?”

Bang!

Plunkett lowered the Baker Rifle he had been holding, moving the sight away from his eye. The dark muzzle was still smoking.

Arthur, astride his black horse, looked at the man clutching his bleeding shoulder as he slid off the box and casually raised his white-gloved hand: “As you can see, sir. We are here for Britain.”

With a wave of his white-gloved hand, Officer Tony, at the frontmost row, drew his police sword, veins bulging on his neck, shouting hoarsely as his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

“Open fire!!!”

The musket fire burst forth, like arrows falling from the top of the Tower of London in a storm. As blood flowers bloomed in the riotous crowd, time seemed to freeze.

Confused expressions, faces of fear, screams of pain, warm blood flowing—everything was buried under the pitch-black rain of the night.

As ordinary patrolmen from Scotland Yard, most officers’ shooting skills at a distance of 100 yards might not surpass those of the rioters’ musketeers.

But for the Ghost Team members retired from the 95th Rifle Regiment, shooting 100 yards in bad weather was just basic training.

With just one round of volleys, a third of the musketeers among the rioters were already down.

Under the combined firepower of the police and the Tower of London Guards, the once forward-moving rioting crowd instantly showed signs of collapse. The heavy loss of the musketeers left them leaderless, like lambs waiting to be driven away, powerless to resist.

In such circumstances, the officers did not choose to fire a second volley, not out of mercy, but because at such close quarters, they had no time to reload.

They drew their Civilization Canes from their belts, climbed over the barricades set up by the demonstrators, and unhesitatingly charged towards those who still insisted on attacking the Guard’s shield wall.

Accompanied by the crackling sound of raindrops, the sound of riding boots on cobblestones was amplified, like a group of beasts rushing towards a flock of sheep.

Two groups wrestled together; a rioter was knocked down, and instantly three or four policemen swarmed over him.

Meanwhile, lone policemen received the same treatment from the rioters, but unlike the surrounded demonstrators, they were met not with Civilization Canes but with sticks and stones.

In this night where blood red was invisible, besides Arthur on horseback commanding the advance of the police, a few conspirators hidden in the nearby towers were also observing the battlefield.

At the dark windows of the small tower hotel, a few black muzzles extended, occasionally wisps of blue-white smoke drifted out, and the cigars in their mouths under the wide-brimmed hats twitched slightly. In the crackling rain, their voices sounded indistinct.

“Why is this kid here? Where is Wellington, when will he arrive?”

…

London, Mayfair District, French Embassy.

Under the magnificent chandelier, Talleyrand was playing cards with a few ladies around the table.

Outside, in the storm, the sound of hoofs and the howls of pain and terror could be heard intermittently.

Hearing these tearing screams, the ladies felt the brightly lit room turned a bit eerie. Their faces turned slightly pale, some were distracted, others forced a smile.

Talleyrand threw out a five from his hand and then gently tapped the table: “Lady Jersey, it’s your turn. Being distracted while playing cards could lose you a big sum.”

Lady Jersey, looking at Talleyrand’s calm manner, couldn’t help but take off her lace gloves soaked in sweat and asked: “Mr. Talleyrand, aren’t you afraid? London is so chaotic now, yet you seem unbothered.”

Talleyrand raised his empty glass to signal the servant to refill it: “Madam, one cannot become a surgeon without remaining calm in the face of blood, suffering, or clear evidence. One cannot become a strong person without staying calm in the face of passion. One cannot become a politician or a statesman without appearing indifferent to any event. Clearly, you do not understand what kind of person I am.”

Upon hearing this, Lady Jersey couldn’t help but sigh, clutching her chest: “I forgot, you managed to escape unscathed even during the Great Revolution. To be honest, I feel very uneasy. Though I haven’t seen the sights outside myself, just hearing the sounds is enough to terrify me. I really don’t know if what we are doing is right. It seems to bring nothing but harming each other.”

Talleyrand smiled as he held his glass: “Madam, the people in Almack’s Club say you are wise, and it seems they are fair in their assessment. You are right, having poor people in uniforms watch over poor people in overalls is the secret of tyrants and the problem of the government. Unfortunately, even after thirty years, I haven’t found a solution. So, although you are kind, let’s focus on our card game.”