Chapter 1281: Chapter 8: Hostility
Within the Platinum Palace, Her Majesty the Queen was cuddling her beloved pet… but she did not look very fortable.
Because tonight, when she should have been resting, a large crowd had gathered outside the palace… thousands of people were standing at the palace gates, protesting.
And the number of people gathered was continuously increasing.
The anti-riot squad had been dispatched, forming a human wall, and equipped with smoke grenades, water guns, and pepper spray, etc. However, without orders, all they could do was stand idly with their shields.
The Prime Minister had been urgently summoned an hour ago, and present were not only the Prime Minister but also those parliamentarians who wielded real power.
The center of power was discussing something, outsiders did not know what—especially the guards. They only needed to be responsible for security, ensuring that no one could approach.
“There are indeed more and more people, it seems as if they won’t disperse by daylight, and there will be even more,” the leader of the anti-riot task force said, shaking his head at his panion, as he looked at the crowd outside through the human wall, “Prepare for a prolonged standoff.”
The panion shrugged and said, “There’s nothing we can do, after all, several places have been attacked in succession… The key is that the attacks were successful. Now, what troubles them is probably their intelligence operations, or maybe they’ll discuss next year’s intelligence system budget expenditures as a side.”
The task force leader didn’t say much, but he was well aware that organizing such a large protest demonstration in such a short time was inherently very unlikely to be spontaneous… The opposition snakes were probably already calling for action.
He shook his head again, ever since Great Britain’s farcical referendum, the current government has been under scrutiny…
Suddenly, footsteps were heard, and the two looked towards the sound.
They saw a woman dressed in a tailcoat… Her exquisite and heroic features seemed to bear the blood of the Germanic Nation, her long golden hair simply tied.
Like a deacon, she carried a tray single-handedly, walking past the two without looking at them.
The panion gently whistled, curiously asking, “Who is this lady, and why can she walk here freely?”
“Don’t you know?” The group leader casually said, “She’s one of the bodyguards around Her Majesty the Queen, always responsible for attending to the Queen’s needs, seems to be called… Lance?”
“Lance?” The panion was momentarily stunned, gazing at the lady’s back.
She was unusually tall, even taller than most men… Finally, she arrived at the door of the room where the Queen, Prime Minister, and others were discussing.
Knock.
“Excuse me.” She opened the door and then slowly walked inside.
…
Upon entering the room, she found the atmosphere was heavy—Her Majesty the Queen was merely petting her beloved cat, grooming its fur, but seemed lost in thought.
The Prime Minister was standing by the window, silently smoking a cigarette.
When she entered, everyone’s gaze fell upon her. Yet she ignored it, walking straight to the side of the Queen and placing the tray down.
A glass of water, a small dish, with several pills on the dish.
“Your Majesty, it’s time for your medication.”
“Oh… alright.” The Queen instinctively nodded, then glanced at the gathered ministers, distractedly swallowing the pills.
Afterwards, she tidied up and turned to leave towards the door… Her Majesty the Queen’s lips moved slightly, but she said nothing in the end.
“Wait, Lancelot!” But the Prime Minister spoke up… stopping her just as she was about to push the door open.
“Honorable Mr. Birmingham, may I ask your instructions.” She turned around, politely inquiring, but without a smile.
“What do you think of the attack?” The Prime Minister asked thoughtfully.
She replied calmly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Birmingham, as of now, I have not received any instructions.”
“I’m asking for your opinion… I don’t believe that with such a big incident happening, Mr. Perkins hasn’t contacted you.” The Prime Minister frowned… this damned puppet!
“Mr. Birmingham, my duty is just to protect Her Majesty the Queen’s safety. Beyond that, Mr. Perkins hasn’t requested me to do anything, nor said anything to me.” She continued coldly, “If you wish to know the stance of the Knight Agency from my mouth, there’s no need. It’s far more efficient to call Mr. Perkins directly yourself.”
“He’s not even picking up my calls.” The Prime Minister sneered.
She merely glanced at him, then calmly said, “If there are no other matters, then… Goodbye.”
“Hold on, Lancelot.” Her Majesty the Queen spoke up amidst the other parliamentary giants’ gazes at the conference table, eventually speaking with courage, “Here is a letter delivered secretly by the attackers this time, detailing their demands… I’d like you to hear it.”
She showed an expression of confusion.
The Queen forced a bitter smile, “They claim to be the ‘Doomsday Myth’, demanding that we unconditionally give Northern Ireland over to them and acknowledge their independent rule of the region. If we don’t agree to this demand, they will launch attacks similar to those several hours ago indiscriminately over the next month. And the next attack is three days later, location unknown…”
She finally showed a trace of emotion.
…
…
Fog Capital Zone Two, where old houses and new high-rises converge. At this time, in the gaps between houses under the shadow of the high-rises, a silhouette was agilely leaping across the walls on either side, seemingly about to easily pass through the alleyway.
Yet, just as the figure was about to step across one of the buildings, a large black net suddenly appeared overhead—the net instantly ensnared him.
Then, a frantic electric current began to release through the net’s wires, and a scream resounded as he fell directly into the alley.
Several men in long black windbreakers, each holding a metal cylinder, quickly walked up to the net.
They helped him up after being shocked by the net—he… he looked just over twenty years old, wearing a sweater already covered in grime.
His bangs were soaked from sweat, and his body bore numerous wounds… The youth, held up, hung his head, eyes vacant, foaming from his mouth, consciousness seemingly lost.
Hiss—!
The sound of a match striking.
Grand Knight Simpton lit a cigarette for himself, then approached the youth who had been pulled up—Simpton pinched the youth’s chin, manipulated him left and right, then nodded, “Good, the third one… How many more are there?”
One of the men in black windbreakers said, “Based on the list from the Beastman trafficker, there are two more yet to be found. Sir, we seized this signal tracker from the Beastman trafficker, one is nearby. As for the other, it’s currently on the move, heading as if to meet up with the stationary one.”
Simpton glanced at the tracker in his subordinate’s hand, tapping his fingers and saying, “Let’s stop here then… The munity center. Quickly find these filthy guys and dispel them… I really can’t stand the smell of these Beastmen. It keeps me from sleeping at night.”
“Yes!”
…
This is definitely a genius.
Will was utterly shocked… You can tell whether someone actually knows how to play the guitar, even if they’re just pretending.
From the awkwardness, to slowly starting to play independently… those were his own techniques, his own habits—this delicate child was clearly imitating his way of playing.
Though throughout the entire piece, the child could only play the beginning part smoothly and slowly, he could hardly continue with the later sections, but he was still trying his best… What an astonishing memory this child had, and how nimble were his hands.
A genius, it seemed like he had discovered a genius.
Finally, the child’s hands stopped; he could no longer continue. But soon, he started again from the beginning, this time even more skillfully.
Will was someone who liked to share with others—soon he thought of the other two friends in his band, wanting to tell them about this.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t get through the phone—it connected but no one answered.
Will shook his head, thinking those two might be hitting on girls at a bar around this time—he suddenly remembered a friend who he exchanged rock music with frequently, the very person who taught him this piece.
Will listened to his friend play this original piece once more, feeling an immediate urge to cry—that was the realm Will pursued, and he firmly believed that music could convey emotions.
Ring—ring—ring—!
“Will? You’re calling me at this hour, what’s up?” The call connected, though the English was not very fluent and mixed with some accent.
“Cheng! You know, I’ve discovered a genius! You wouldn’t believe how incredible this kid is! I believe you’ll really enjoy meeting him!” Will said excitedly.
“Okay, I would love to meet him… Are you planning to introduce us?” the voice replied with a helpless chuckle.
“Of course! Are you free tomorrow… oh, Cheng, hang on a moment, it seems like someone’s here, I’ll call you back later with more details.”
Will said as he hung up the phone.
…
At the same time, at the Fog Capital University Royal Music Academy.
“So odd.”
He chuckled, shook his head, put down the phone, and opened his laptop to start a video call.
The screen flickered, soon showing a family of three huddled together… one of them being a newborn baby.
“Oh, let me see my godson… Hong Guan! Don’t hide him! Look at this baby, he looks so much like me!”
“Like you, my foot! If he looked like you, we’d be in trouble!”
“Haha.”
They began laughing and chatting.
…
The social worker center indeed had visitors… possibly someone seeking help—for example, homeless people ing to ask for food or something.
Will glanced back at the child with a guitar, focusing intently, smiled slightly, gently closed the room door, and walked out.
At the reception, instead of the expected homeless people, he saw several men in black trench coats… they didn’t look like they were here for help.
“May I help you?” Will stepped forward to ask.
“Is there anyone else here besides you?” one man asked coldly.
“Who are you looking for?” Will frowned… he sensed something menacing about these people.
Suddenly, a man behind spoke, “Ah, that’s the stench… it’s sickening. He’s here, get him.”
After saying this, several men in black trench coats nodded and bypassed Will, barging into the social worker center.
“Wait a minute, you can’t go in there, it’s private property…”
Before Will could finish, one man punched him directly in the abdomen… causing Will to bend over in pain, almost unable to breathe, “What… what do you want…”
“We’re saving you, young man, don’t you know how dangerous you are,” Simpton walked over slowly, kneeling in front of Will, sneering, “We’re also here for… that guy. Don’t worry, we won’t damage anything here. Once we take him away, it’ll be over.”
Simpton gestured, prompting a subordinate to roughly drag Will into a side room.
“Let go of me!!! Let go of me!! What do you think you’re doing!!”
The room door closed. Inside, Will was struck again, this time collapsing in agony, retching, unable to get up.
Meanwhile, outside, two men in black trench coats dragged out the delicate boy.
The boy struggled frantically, calling for help… ultimately, he was brought before Simpton.
“Oh, you little brat, wele to Fog Capital… but you’ll be leaving soon,” Simpton smiled, examining the delicate boy.
But the boy suddenly retaliated, his eyes glowing red all at once, breaking free from the two men, then lunging at Simpton.
Simpton didn’t panic; at the moment the boy pounced, he lifted his leg sharply, striking the boy as if with an axe.
Bang—!
The boy hit the ground, spitting out blood… Simpton stood, stepping on the boy’s back, eyes cold.
A shadow swiftly darted in from outside, passing by Simpton at high speed… meanwhile, the boy beneath Simpton had disappeared.
Several subordinates quickly drew weapons… at the reception desk of the social worker center, a young girl now stood protectively in front of the boy.
With anger and resentment… the girl glared fiercely at the knights in front of her.
Simpton exhaled slowly, wiping his cheek with his hand—on his cheek, left by the girl’s pass, were three faint blood marks.
“I utterly detest filthy, lowly, rude mutts like you…” Simpton squinted, spoke calmly, “In the report, write that during the pursuit, two Beastmen went berserk due to provocation, and we had no choice but to take them down…”
“…Understood.”
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PS1: Dian Niang is hosting a Golden Keyboard event, ending on the 31st, emmm… vote for me~!
PS2: More updates later.
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