Chapter 131: Dumas’ Desire for Wealth
Chapter 131 – Dumas’ Lust for Wealth
Outside Greenwich Police Station, Fiona in a long dress pushed her long light blonde hair down behind her ear, and she looked at the pipe cupped in her hand with a somewhat complicated mood.
Behind her were the members of ‘Cambridge’s Little Brothers’ who had been released together.
These young men of varying heights and thicknesses looked at Fiona’s expression of uncertainty, and one by one walked forward to comfort her, ”Fiona, it’s no big deal. Isn’t it just selling your body as usual? At least the brothers have released it, and all your spending in the past two days is on us.”
Fiona couldn’t help but glare at them at that, “What selling your body? This time selling is the soul! There’s no turning back for us now, you bunch of idiots!”
The fellows looked at me, I looked at you, they all couldn’t figure out what kind of nerves Big Sister was having again today.
Someone whistled frivolously and couldn’t help but snicker, “Selling your soul? Is this some new skill you’ve recently developed?”
Who knew that when Fiona heard this, she unceremoniously raised her hand and gave him a slap.
Only a crunching sound was heard.
The man covered the side of his face with a reddish slap mark and froze for a long time before he remembered to get angry.
He pushed up his sleeves and glared, “You bitch, do you really think I don’t dare to beat you up?”
“You try your hand?” As soon as his words fell, he saw Fiona draw a flintlock pistol and stab it into the other’s mouth, “James, listen to me carefully, from now on, how to do it, what to do, all have to listen to me. If you are not convinced, then I will immediately send you to God.”
James had the barrel of the gun in his mouth, his forehead was covered with beads of sweat, and he always felt that there was something familiar about this position.
“Where did you …… you get the gun? Didn’t we …… all our guns get confiscated?”
“Where do you think I got it from?”
Fiona stirred the barrel of her gun in James’ mouth, finally easing it against the roof of his mouth as she flirtatiously teased her blonde hair with her fingertips before throwing a wink towards the front of the Greenwich police station.
There was no one else in front of the police station but a Superintendent Arthur Hastings who was leaning against the door smoking a cigarette.
Arthur also noticed Fiona’s movements, he poured out the remaining embers from his pipe and spoke at Fiona in a nonchalant manner, “Don’t get anyone killed, at least not here.”
With those words, Arthur turned around and walked towards the police station.
Fiona covered her chest with one hand and laughed with an undisguised, happiness-filled smile, “Darling~ I’ll listen to everything you say.”
The little fellows couldn’t help but gulp when they heard this.
They pursued, “Fiona, you’re evening him out?”
“That …… that cop, it seems like the level is not low.”
“So …… so you’re going to be a police officer’s wife?”
Fiona raised her head and scanned the gang of fellows under her hand condescendingly, “I’m not blessed like that, but with the relationship between the two of us, if you guys upset me, I can still get him to send you in! Like I said earlier, all of you will have to listen to me from now on, and we’ll do whatever business I say! As long as we don’t piss him off, we’ll be rich in no time.”
The fellows looked at each other, they were still hesitating.
But when they saw that Fiona’s pistol had begun pointing at them one by one, the gang quickly followed their hearts.
“Row …… row, we’ll listen to whatever you say! As long as we can earn money, what kind of business is not the same? We have always believed in your clever head, not to mention that now you are still ……”
The words just said here, Fiona’s gun has been on top of his head: “I do not allow you to mention his name, my relationship with him, we know in our hearts on the line. Whoever dares to talk nonsense outside, don’t blame me for not looking at our past friendship.”
The little fellow looked at Fiona’s ruthless expression, stiffly squeezed out a smile, and slowly nodded his head, “OK …… Fiona, whatever you say.”
Fiona smiled at her words and nodded, “Also, from now on, don’t call me by my name, Fiona is not something you guys should call out. Just like when I first met you guys, call me by my last name, call me Ms. Ivan.”
In the police station in Greenwich, the Red Devil stood on the bowler hat on top of Arthur’s head, looking out at the scene.
Agareth smiled broadly and rubbed his hands together, “Wow! My dear Arthur, it looks like you picked a nice little girl to act as your underground agent. She’s only just gotten her hands on the power you’ve given her, and she can’t wait to start using it. Seeing her always reminds me of an old friend, and damn, that’s kinda nostalgic.” Arthur glanced at him, standing in the hallway and asked, “You’re such a terrible personality that you actually have female friends?”
Agareth covered his mouth and laughed, “Oh, Arthur, I have plenty of female friends. It’s just that I make friends with them not because they’re female, but because they have a portion of qualities that I admire in them. I’m not your Asmundis-possessed friend Elder, who can’t take a step at the sight of the opposite sex.”
“So what, which of your old acquaintances does Fiona resemble?”
Agareth smiled and flapped his wings, “You know Nemesis?”
Arthur let out a laugh, “You actually know a Greek deity? Nemesis, the inevitable goddess of vengeance who resides on Mount Olympus. Agareth, I thought you demons and gods born in the Valley of the Two Rivers couldn’t get mixed up with Him.”
The Red Devil didn’t pay any attention to Arthur’s questioning, as he swept through the halls of the Greenwich Police Department like a light wind, only his voice still echoed in the halls.
“Every region has its own beliefs, every era has its own gods, it’s no big deal. Just because it’s gone doesn’t mean it’s really gone, and what exists may not survive for long. What the future holds still depends on your own efforts ……”
Arthur picked up his handkerchief and wiped the dust that had stained his face, he couldn’t help but shake his head, “When it comes to pretending to be a god, it’s still you.”
He opened the door of his office, only to see a fat man sitting in the office chair that belonged to him frowning with a quill.
Seeing this scene, Arthur walked over gently, afraid of interrupting the fat man’s thoughts.
He came over to the back of the office chair and took a look, only to see that the manuscript paper laid out in front of the fat man had a familiar title written on it – The Revenge of Edmund Dantes.
Dumas gripped his head, only to feel it crack.
He muttered to himself, “Although the main line has been established, what kind of beginning should be used to introduce the reader?”
“How about trying a withdrawal? A genius, or rather, a promising young man, suddenly, for unknown reasons, a life full of bright lights falls precipitously to the bottom, and even his fiancée, who was about to get married, runs off with someone else, I don’t think there’s anything that can attract readers more than that.”
Dumas snapped his head back, not surprised, “And you know how to write a book?”
Arthur shook his head, “I don’t know anything about it, but I’ve read it. But then again, you’ve suddenly started writing a new book, is this a sign of conscience that you’re finally planning to pay my rent?”
Dumas sniffed and hummed disdainfully, “What do you know? This is the sudden descent of inspiration from the playwright, this is the God-given desire to create, and money, is only responsible for providing a little insignificant push. Besides, you keep me out of your sight at all times, I can neither go elsewhere to see a play, nor do the restaurants in England give me any appetite, I have to find myself some incentive to live.”
Arthur leaned against the wall and nodded, “So you have only one title to live for? The crooks in the London Stock Exchange still know how to put something out there and you’re just going to fool the readers with a headline, you’re lacking a bit of skill if you want to be a writing crook.”
Dumas sniffed angrily, “You say that as if you’re a professional, a Scotland Yard policeman is just a Scotland Yard policeman, those who don’t know think you wrote Henry III and his Court!”
Arthur spoke, “It’s true that I’m not professional, but I think I might be able to offer you a little reasonable help and advice. I’m going to a party at General Codrington’s house next week, and he told me that the party will be a good time to talk about literature aka whatever else besides scientific knowledge. If you can write the beginning of it before next week, I may be able to help you make a name for yourself in London’s high circles at that party.”
Dumas was skeptical, “You Englishman are that kind?”
Arthur shrugged his shoulders, “Believe it or not. Though I’m not exactly doing this to help you, after all, I’m afraid I don’t think my personal scientific literacy is enough to hold up a private party of three or four hours. Instead of being badgered by them with all sorts of scientific questions, I’d rather talk to them about literary skills.”
Hearing this, Dumas was convinced, and he nodded, “You are quite frank. But I also have to admit that the idea you just brought up was quite good. The opening to find out that your fiancée has run off with someone, and your great future is ruined, it does coincide with my thoughts.
I was going to set the protagonist as a promising sailor who was framed and sent to jail and then sent to an island prison. If you add an element of a fiancée being taken from her at the beginning, it can really make the readers more enraged, and when the protagonist subsequently launches his revenge action, it can also make them feel more hearty.”
Hearing this, Arthur opened his mouth and asked, “Then have you thought of how to make the protagonist escape from death from the island prison?”
“This …… this I haven’t begun to think about, I’m still thinking about how to write the beginning.”
Arthur smiled and leaned down, “I think that you can set up a mentor-like role for him in the island prison, for example ……”
“Mentor?” Just as he said that, Agares appeared out of nowhere, the red devil nodding in his monocle, “Speaking of mentors, that would be a knowledgeable devil.”
Arthur glanced at the guy and continued, “I think a mentor could be a learned old prisoner, a chemist aka a naturalist or something ……”
(End of chapter)