The Shadow of Great Britain

57: Chapter 18 Robin Hood Robin Hood, open the door 57: Chapter 18 Robin Hood Robin Hood, open the door Under Adam’s guidance, Arthur and the others arrived at the Crow’s Nest area, located deep within St Giles Church district.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Dickens jot down a few lines in the notebook he was carrying.

—The streets were muddy and nearly impassable, the narrow and dark alleys filled with the stench of excrement and vomiting.

There were a few small shops, but the shelves were sparsely stocked; it seemed that their only product was the group of children begging at the doorstep.

—Though the sun had just risen, they were already forced to crawl around the entrance, and cries from babies could occasionally be heard from inside the houses.

—The place was completely desolate, it seemed that only the tavern’s business was still decent, rowdy with some of the lower-class Irishmen’s shouting.

—Narrow main streets extended into some porticos and courtyards; through the gaps, one could see clusters of shabby rooms, where drunken men and women tumbled together, covered in mud, like pigs wallowing in a sty.

—From some doorways, fierce-looking, muscular men occasionally appeared, their eyes sneaky, seemingly about to engage in nothing gallant or refined.

Arthur, with a pipe in his mouth, slowly blew a smoke ring as he read this.

“No toilets, no trash bins, no water pipes, and no clean water sources; the entire area lacked even a single sewage drain to clear away the filth.

It’s less than saying they live in the most thriving city in Europe; more like they live in a primitive wilderness that sees neither civilization nor care,” he murmured.

Upon hearing this, Dickens paused in his writing, adjusted his hat, and asked.

“Arthur, did you study Classical Literature at university?”

“No, I studied history.”

Dickens seemed surprised, “Is the educational standard of the University of London that high?

It seems the newspaper reports about your school were all wrong, those were groundless slanders.

You, a history student, possessing such an excellent literary ability, if you were a graduate of classical literature, you’d probably be at a master level, wouldn’t you?”

Arthur took a draw from his pipe and asked, “What does the newspaper say about our school?”

Dickens responded, “They say the University of London is a university that doesn’t care about faith, doesn’t even have a prayer room; such a school is simply a cesspit university, no matter how good the students are, four years in such a school envisaged to specialize in highbrow classical literature would only graduate with cesspool literature.”

Arthur wanted to refute on behalf of his alma mater’s reputation but suddenly the smug face of Eld flashed across his mind.

He struggled silently for a long time, then took a deep puff on his pipe and slowly said, “Although I don’t agree with the newspapers, it seems like those full of cesspool literature are indeed around me.”

Dickens asked uncertainly, “Are you talking about me?”

Arthur shook his head and denied, “No no, Charles, I am not talking about you.

The man you’ve met, the one who was drinking with me at the tavern that day.”

Dickens initially baffled, then clutching his forehead in astonishment, exclaimed, “He actually studied Classical Literature?

My God!

Had you not told me, I’d have thought he was uneducated.”

Arthur, with a raised eyebrow, said, “That might be because you don’t quite understand the nature of education.

Education can teach students some skills but it cannot teach them to think.

Education does not necessarily improve one’s mind, sometimes it even makes it worse.”

Dickens looked puzzled, “I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

Seeing his confusion, Arthur postulated, “If a stubborn fool receives a university education, what do you think happens to him?”

Dickens hesitated, “Would it make him less stubborn?”

Arthur shook his head, “No, he becomes even more troublesome than before.

Because from what he learns, he chooses the parts he likes to embellish his nonsensical logic, making himself appear even more ludicrous.

Charles, you must understand, even the sun can only illuminate objects that are willing to receive light.”

Dickens asked, “Are you saying that foolish people should not receive an education?”

Arthur shook his head again.

“No.

They still should receive education; smart people without education can barely progress in this society, how can fools survive without some education?

Moreover, I can’t even be sure if I am part of the smart or the foolish myself.

What if I’m the foolish part?

We think we are rational, we believe that all our actions are logically motivated.

But in reality, arrogance and obstinacy are common traits among all kinds of people.”

Charles, usually when I curse others, I am also cursing myself, so in the end, it’s about leaving a way out for myself.”

Having heard this, Agares laughed and appeared, sitting on the largely missing awning of a small shop.

“Arthur, how could you be paranoid and foolish?

You are a smart villain.

You just need to not mix with those fools.

Once people join a group, their intelligence level significantly decreases.

To gain approval, they are willing to sacrifice right and wrong, exchanging intelligence and common sense for that pitiful sense of security and belonging which I find laughable.

An isolated individual has the ability to control their own reactive behaviors, whereas a group does not.

Once they gather together, they lose their minds.

Things they wouldn’t dare to do or even think about can continue one after another if there’s a leader.

And what you need to do is exert a slight, less noticeable influence on them, perhaps a slogan or an action.

As long as they receive the message you convey, you can make them go forward and sacrifice themselves while you sit back and quietly count money.”

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil, unable to fathom why this guy had to say this today.

His mood was neither particularly good nor bad.

Usually, when his mind was at peace, Agares was loath to waste words.

Even Arthur himself knew that people are hardly tempted when in such a desire-free state.

After all, Agares was an old salesman who had been at it since the time of King Solomon; surely, he understood this principle?

Arthur thought for a moment and said nothing more but followed the footsteps of the crowd onward.

In the alley ahead was a dilapidated two-story building with a hole in the roof, where traces of last night’s rain still lingered, and water dripped slowly from the edge of the eaves.

Adam, led by Tom, released his father’s hand.

He whispered to Arthur and the others, “Gentlemen, please step back a bit.

If Mr.

Fagin sees me bringing strangers here, not only will he not open the door, he might also flee through the windows.”

Arthur and the others exchanged looks and began to back away.

“Alright, we’ll move away, take care of yourself.”

Adam hesitated for a moment then suddenly stopped Arthur.

“Mr.

Hastings, are you really not going to capture Mr.

Fagin?”

Arthur blinked at him and smiled gently, “Have I ever lied to you?”

Reassured by this response, Adam nodded seriously.

He then walked to the door, reinforced with two wooden boards, and tiptoed to knock gently three times.

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

The rhythm of the knocking was slow, but each sound was very heavy.

Next, Adam curled two fingers into a circle, mimicked a cuckoo’s call with two whistles, and then recited.

“The birds of the forest return to their nest, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, please open the door.

Bring neither your bow nor your arrows, as I have brought back two cat’s eyes for you.”

The interior of the house was silent for a moment until a sharp voice tinged with hoarseness emanated from within.

“Cuckoo, cuckoo, from where have you flown back?

The forest’s crow brought a message, saying you went up the guillotine.”

“Cake blinded the eagle’s eyes, and I have returned from studying at the academy, a ten-day holiday, relaxed and joyous.”

As soon as Adam finished speaking, a murky eye with yellow spots appeared within the round hole carved in the door.

The eye looked around behind Adam until it was sure no one was hiding, and finally, the door slowly opened a crack.

“Adam, you may come in.”