People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

"Your Excellency, Your Excellency... I..."

"What's there to be nervous about, Sir Bellingham? I won't blame you; in fact, I'll thank you! Without your example, how could I prove to all of Terra that working under Duke Castle is such a wonderful job?"

"Let me see, the 'I Love Sherag' hat, scarf, coat, trousers, and these shoes are all limited editions. They must have cost a lot of money, right?"

Not daring to look at the Duke of Custer's smiling face, Bellingham felt a chill run down his spine and quickly explained:

"Your Grace, it didn't cost much! These limited editions are just that you need to draw lots to get the right to buy them. The people of Sherag didn't raise the price for them separately."

"so?"

"I won on my first try, so I didn't spend any extra money."

The poet forced a smile. But for some reason, the moment his ingratiating smile appeared on his face, the Duke of Caesar's face turned dark.

"Good, very good, not bad. So, instead of gathering intelligence in Shelag, my Grey Hat is participating in business activities, is that it?"

"No, no, no, sir, you misunderstand. I haven't neglected my duties!" the poet hurriedly explained. "I've also been doing intelligence gathering and such."

"The guest in Box One is the Pope of Lateran, and the guest in Box Two is the mayor of the independent city-state of Siesta. Both of them have been invited by Ernst to attend the World's Fair."

"And what about Box Number Three..." Duke Gustave was about to ask about Box Number Three when he realized that Box Number Three referred to himself. He coughed lightly, composed himself, and said, "And what about Box Number Four?"

"My lord, I haven't had a chance yet..."

"Then go quickly!"

The Duke of Caesar said coldly,

“I can overlook your rash actions, and I can turn a blind eye to your unexplained expenses in Sherag, but Sir Bellingham, please remember, what I need are results.”

"The Lateran Pope and the Mayor of Siesta can only absolve you of your sins. If you want to gain merit, you need to gain much more!"

The young man in the gray top hat immediately stood at attention.

He said "Yes, Your Majesty" several times, "I'm off," and "Farewell, Duke," before hurriedly leaving the room and closing the door.

Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, the man in the gray top hat, already drenched in sweat, glared fiercely at the private room.

Who are you trying to manipulate? You didn't set any KPIs for us before you came, so how are we "guilty"? Besides, haven't I already completed my task? Aren't the Lateran Pope and the Mayor of Siesta enough for you to exploit?

Honestly, who's been spoiling you!

The door to the private room was suddenly pulled open a crack, and the poet shuddered, his expression immediately softening.

Who spoiled you? It was me, my Duke.

Who else but me!

Turning around, the poet faced the fourth VIP room without hesitation. He took a deep breath and was about to open the door when he paused, turned the doorknob, and knocked on it with his knuckles.

The sudden opening of the door had given him such a shock, and it was certainly a bit impolite, wasn't it?

We Victorians, when it comes to intelligence gathering, we value gentlemen and the principle of "courtesy before force." What's wrong with knocking? If I don't knock, I don't even know if I can afford to mess with the person inside!

Approaching footsteps came from inside the door. The man in the grey top hat pursed his lips, placed his hand on the harp, and was ready to play a tune as soon as the door opened, no matter who was inside!

Let's reduce the hostility!

The next second, the door in front of the gray-hatted man opened from the inside, and two equally familiar figures appeared in his field of vision.

"you are?"

Dai Feien looked at the stranger standing at the door with some surprise, feeling a sense of familiarity about the person's demeanor.

But his unusual attire made it hard for Daphne to associate him with the ruthless and cunning intelligence agent of the Duke of Caesar.

However, just because the kitten doesn't recognize it doesn't mean the adult cat won't.

Duke Windermere, who had already slaughtered the command headquarters and suspected Grey Hat spies in the Duchy of Windermere, immediately identified the Grey Hats' identity with a single glance!

"Have Duke Kester's insects become adapted to the temperature of snow-covered mountains like Kjerag? It's disgusting!"

Duke Amphilis Windermere covered her nose as if she had seen something utterly repulsive.

She raised her hand and waved to the sword guards who had already stood up beside her:

"Kill him, don't let him dirty my eyes."

From recognizing the man in the grey hat to ordering his execution, less than a minute had passed. The Duke of Windermere had already pronounced the man before him dead.

But the poet felt he could still salvage the situation!

He instinctively turned around to ask his boss and colleagues in the private room behind him to "give a hand to the brother!", but before he could turn around, he heard a clear sound of a door closing behind him.

The door, which had just been opened a crack, closed again at just the right moment.

The man in the grey top hat twitched at the corner of his mouth, cursing his teammate's betrayal to the eighteenth generation in his mind. Then, facing the approaching figures of the Windermere swordsmen, he said loudly:

"Your Excellency Duke Windermere, even if you wish to crush this insect, at least consider the location, right?"

"This is the snowy route of Shelag. If you clean the ground here and make a mess, will Mr. Ernst be happy?"

"Humph."

The Duke of Windermere sneered.

"At worst, I'll pay him ten columns!"

Damn it, you big spender!

After cursing the dukes in his mind again, realizing that none of them were easy to deal with, the [Poet] quickly said:

"This isn't about the money! It's about the impact!"

"You're also here to attend the World's Fair. As a guest, causing such a bloody incident on the train on the very first day—even if you personally don't care about your reputation, how can the World's Fair in Kjerag continue?"

The Duke of Windermere's expression finally changed slightly.

Her gaze swept over the man in the gray top hat, then she clicked her tongue in disgust.

"Tsk."

"You've been lucky to escape with your life, you bug from Kester."

As if it were a signal, the swordsman who had already placed his knife against the gray-hatted man's neck immediately withdrew his blade, took a step back, and returned to Duke Windermere and Daphne's side.

"Thank Ernst for saving your life. Now, get out of my sight!"

"Duke Windermere said dismissively."

The man in the grey top hat immediately performed a standard Victorian aristocratic courtesy and turned to flee.

He had barely stepped out of the room when, a second later, he heard Duke Windermere mutter thoughtfully to himself from inside the still-open box door:

"There are actually Kaspersky bugs here. Where there are bugs, that disgusting thing shouldn't be far away, right?"

"Could it be..."

"Click!"

The door was closed.

The man in the grey top hat silently prayed in his heart, "By Jeragand!"

Luckily, the door closed quickly enough, otherwise he would have heard some things he shouldn't have heard!

The Duke of Windermere's radar went off? No way! He had no idea what was going on. He was just a grey-hatted man who had barely escaped the Duke's clutches and would definitely be applying for workers' compensation when he got back!

It's not that the junior staff didn't contribute; it's just that they genuinely didn't know!

The man in the grey top hat silently repented in his heart, "Yeah, right!"

Actually, it was quite enjoyable.

After all, the Duke closed the door "in a timely manner," and so what if the Duke of Windermere, who is also a duke, is good at "closing the door"?

Whether it's a closed-door talk or a closed-door beating, that's none of my business.

Anyway, nothing serious is likely to happen. After all, Duke Windermere has indeed been considerate of Ernst's feelings, even refraining from killing him himself. Besides, didn't Duke Curst already hire two members of Victoria's most elite special operations team—the Storm Riders—as bodyguards, and even bring along that "hidden master," codenamed [007], [John Smith] in his grey top hat?

It won't cause a big fuss, it's just kids playing around, it's nothing~

The man in the grey top hat deliberately cut off his hearing, determined not to listen to what might be happening behind him, and instead stood in front of the fifth private room.

Your Grace, I was working, I didn't hear anything!

"Dong dong."

Gently knocking on the door of the private room, the man in the grey top hat placed his hand on his harp, quietly waiting for whoever, whoever, was inside, to come out and open the door.

This time, to his great surprise, the person who opened the door was not a big shot he knew, but a Miss Vayvan with big horns and a thick tail.

Abrahana's gaze swept over the man in the gray top hat, then she asked with a hint of amusement:

"Hello, sir, who are you looking for?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss, I'm a harpist. Would you like to hear me play?"

“Of course I would be happy to, but…” Abrahana’s gaze bypassed the gray-hatted man and looked behind him at the door of Box 3, where Duke Windermere was knocking. “This place doesn’t seem very suitable for a performance?”

“No, no, Miss.” The smile in the grey top hat was radiant. “Life should always be filled with poetry.”

His melodious voice sounded like that of a poet reciting a poem:

Even if there are mountains of knives and seas of fire in front of you, and a bottomless abyss behind you!

"Dear stranger, don't turn back, don't turn back, don't turn back!"

"Grasp the present moment, play this harp, and live poetically—that is the true meaning of life!"

As the door to Box 3 opened and Duke Windermere entered with his guards, the door slowly closed. Abrahana immediately looked away, smiled slightly, and nodded.

"really."

Chapter 265 Gray Hat: You want two bowls? I'll open 2700 blind boxes!

The train slowly came to a stop, the doors slowly opened, and yet another Snowpiercer train returned to its starting point.

The man in the grey top hat returned to his carriage, completely oblivious to the arguing, cursing, and clanging of metal that had begun to echo in the corridor. "I have no idea what's going on there!"

He had bought a ticket for the whole day, so he didn't need to get off the train like everyone else. The familiar train attendants wouldn't bother him either, and he could enjoy this hard-won peace in this small space.

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the soft sofa and began to reflect on the gains from the trip.

The Lateran popes, who were among the organizers of the World's Fair, rarely had a national leader personally attend. This suggests at least two things: first, the Sarkaz were indeed living very leisurely lives; and second, this World's Fair was truly extraordinary.

In comparison, the guests from Siesta seemed less important. In the past, someone like Hermann, while not necessarily capable of causing a great stir in the Grey Hats, would certainly not have been considered a nobody who wouldn't have caught their eye.

It's still somewhat of a cornerstone.

But comparisons are odious. Compared to the other heavyweights who frequently stir up trouble across Terra, Herman is somewhat insignificant.

In Grey Hat's eyes, he wasn't even as important as his daughter, Miss Ceylon. After all, Miss Ceylon now worked under Ernst and was someone who could legitimately speak with that rising star of Terra's new generation of politicians.

In particular, Grey Hat knew that, perhaps because his elders had died too early, Ernst Shivaish was still unmarried! In Terra, this was almost impossible for a leader of similar status to Ernst Shivaish. Ernst's exceptional case was destined to make him a highly sought-after figure in the political marriage arena!

However, young people are always hot-blooded; to put it nicely, they're going through a rebellious phase; to put it bluntly, their plans for the future are a mess. Without the guidance and support of reliable elders, someone like him is easily deceived by bad women!

Miss Ceylon is quite beautiful, and if you add to that the exotic charm of being born in Siesta, the daughter of a "seaside" city, who knows if Ernst, a boy who grew up in a remote mountain village, would be interested in this kind of thing.

It's not that Grey Hat is trying to belittle Siesta, but judging from the current situation, if Ernst really does have an affair with Ceylon, Siesta will definitely rise to prominence. This tourist city might never have to depend on Colombia again, and its future development will be immeasurable!

Of course, this is only one possibility. Grey Hat didn't know much about Hermann's character and dared not make any rash judgments about the mayor's schemes. He had just been considering the key points of Ceylon's arrival in Sherag from the Duke of Kester's perspective, but not everyone on this land was a purely political animal like his duke, was they?

At least, Grey Hat thought that if Ernst could offer enough incentives, she might even dare to propose marriage herself to him. But Mayor Hermann was unlikely to be able to get Nan Tong.

That's where the difference between people lies.

However, after thinking for a long time, Your Grace, when did the fighting in the corridor stop?

The man in the grey top hat, somewhat curious, leaned closer to the window, wanting to pull back the curtains to see what was happening on the platform. But as soon as his hand touched the curtain, he pulled it back.

"Forget it, I'd rather not watch it."

He almost lost two lives just now by opening the private room. If it weren't for Duke Windermere's mercy in sparing his life and Miss Abrahana's kindness in letting him go, he probably wouldn't be here gathering intelligence right now.

Who knows what's going on on the platform behind that curtain? I'd better not take the risk.