The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1653: Chapter 44: Why Did His Majesty Rebel?

As night fell, Arthur left Kensington Palace and headed straight for Leicester Square.

The reason was simple. Several of his friends from ”the British” were waiting for him at the Alhambra Theater.

Leicester Square was bustling at night. As Arthur’s carriage entered the area, its speed slowed due to the surging crowd.

Through the window, he saw a group of idle folks gathered by the street, including vendors, passing tourists, and soldiers stationed at nearby barracks. They were huddled together around a makeshift wooden arena where a few proud roosters were fighting each other.

Beside the cockfighting arena hung a wooden sign that read—1 Shilling per match, odds 1 to 100.

No need to guess, this was definitely gambling on cockfighting.

Such activities weren’t rare in London. There were dog fights, cockfights, bear fights, badger fights, even rat fights. Arthur wondered if there was anything these gamblers wouldn’t bet on.

But today, what he encountered was truly outrageous—daring to openly host it on the street.

Of course, Britain hadn’t banned beast fights. As long as the venue was licensed, the events could legally proceed.

But, this kind held directly on the street, needless to say, they were definitely unlicensed.

If Arthur were still working at Scotland Yard, he’d have shut down such a venue immediately.

True to form, just as Arthur voiced his opinion, someone in the crowd shouted, ”Damn, the Blue Lobsters are coming ashore!”

Immediately followed by a series of ”beep-beep” police whistle sounds, three or four squads of police in new uniforms darted out from various street corners, heading straight for the cockfighting arena.

The officers moved deftly, with the agility of track athletes, clearing obstacles that gamblers placed in their path to escape. Spotting anyone trying to resist, they rushed up, delivering two swift blows.

The gamblers, preferring a hit over leaving empty-handed, tried grabbing the money off tables as they fled, but the officers wouldn’t let them have their way.

Busting gamblers was always a lucrative assignment. As long as they handed over the stipulated amount, the remaining gambling finds could be divided among the officers.

If gamblers were just running away, the officers might let them go. But if they dared touch the gambling fund, they were certainly headed for a stay at Scotland Yard.

It happened that among the officers today, one squad was led by Officer Mike Colley, who Arthur had met before.

Officer Colley, far from his meek demeanor under Chief Field, displayed an impressive command of Scotland Yard’s baton techniques, swiftly subduing several greedy gamblers, leaving them moaning on the ground.

Yet among the gamblers, there were always those money-obsessed types; despite enduring the blows, they wouldn’t settle down. One such person, clutching his head, shouted at Colley, ”Do you know who I am? How dare you hit me, how dare you, damn it!”

”I don’t care who the hell you are!” Colley swung his arm wide, delivering a thumping blow that silenced him. ”Keep mouthing off, and I’ll haul you back to the station and string you up! Bastard, do you think I’m happy doing night duty?”

Colley was about to give him a lesson when he heard someone calling him from behind. Turning, he saw the carriage stopped beside him. Through the window glass, the face looking out was like a portrait come to life.

Colley was momentarily stunned, then shivered before calling for his squad to continue the chase. He trotted to the carriage and greeted, ”Sir, sorry for alarming you during this operation?”

Arthur glanced at the chaotic scene and, accustomed to large events, calmly asked, ”When you and Charles came to Leicester Square undercover, it was for this?”

”Yes, yes!” Colley nodded vigorously, his smile so sugary one could cringe. ”Your insight is incredible, Sir. Chief Field received notice a week ago about large-scale gambling here. So, we’ve been discreetly watching, researching, and planning. Today we caught the culprits, ensuring there’s accountability for the public!”

Arthur leaned back on the carriage cushions, resting his chin in his hand, and looked on nonchalantly. ”Is that so? Your baton skills are impressive, it’s the first time I’ve seen them. Did a particular instructor teach that at the station?”

Colley looked embarrassed and laughed awkwardly, ”Ah, well... that was my creation—a ’controlled strike’ method, inspired by Bow Street Riders’ horseback combat.”

Sensing an opportunity to display some ”professional expertise,” Colley suddenly shifted the topic, ”Sir, would you like a demonstration of the ’Three Techniques to Subdue with Civilization Cane’? It’s a new station skill; I was among the first to pass the exam.”

Without waiting for a reply, Colley shouted over his shoulder, ”Hoot! Let someone else handle that redneck! Get over here and assist!”

”Me?” Officer Hoot, who was straddling a gambler trying to recover the funds, turned pale upon hearing this: ”Boss, I really don’t want another hit from that baton!”

”Enough talking, demonstrate for the Sir! Perform well tonight, and I’ll add a commendation for you.”