London, Westminster, 4 Whitehall Street, Greater London Metropolitan Police.

Arthur sat in a chair in his office, holding a white porcelain teacup in his hand, and took a sip of tea.

The warm tea slid down his mouth and down his throat, finally melting into his hot heart, igniting his body that had lost its temperature due to the cold weather.

Arthur looked out the window at the drizzling raindrops and reached out to wipe the hazy mist from the window.

Outside the window, Whitehall Street is bustling with traffic, and even on the sidewalks, you can see many department affairs officers running around in the pouring rain with papers under their armpits.

Seeing their funny appearances, Arthur couldn't help but sigh: "I thought that after the Whigs came to power, only people like me needed to move around, but now it seems that most people think the same thing as me." ”

The Red Devil, who was leaning against the window with glasses and knitting sweaters to pass the time of boredom, heard this, and just laughed and shook his head: "People can sometimes control their own destiny. If we are subject to man, dear Brutus, the fault is not in our destiny, but in ourselves. ”

When Arthur heard this, he snapped his fingers: "From Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene II." ”

Agareth shook his legs as he spoke, "Arthur, I'm not talking to you about opera. You know what I mean, you don't have to go through the trouble. It's not too difficult to solve Rowan, especially for Ling. This time you just happened to be what you were going to do if Bruham didn't become justice? ”

"Didn't make it?" Arthur leaned back in his chair: "If I don't become a person, at most I won't do it here." Didn't I tell you? You've given me too many ways to make money, just a superintendent of Scotland Yard, there's really nothing to be nostalgic about.

I used to stay in this because I had to beg for food here. I stayed here because I felt that there were some people who depended on me for food. Later, it was because the in the pit was all splashed on my face, and if I didn't give a response, I would be one with the.

But you said that I was lucky to get to where I am today, and I don't deny it. But you may not know that an elder in my hometown once said that a person's life is not only based on personal efforts, but also sometimes on the course of history. ”

When Agareth heard this, he couldn't help but taunt: "Arthur, you have to be glad that humans don't have long tails, otherwise your tails would have been cocked by now." ”

For Agareth's challenge, Arthur has always been the one who comes, and he nodded in agreement: "I'm also disappointed that it wasn't Barr who made a contract with me, and if it was Barr, he wouldn't have watched me fall into the dung pit without saying anything." ”

"That's right." Agareth rarely agreed with Arthur: "If it were Baal, most likely he would have eaten the dung pit before you fell in." ”

As soon as Agareth finished saying this, there was a thunderclap outside the window, only to hear a boom, and the Red Devil was so frightened that he fell directly down the window.

Arthur sat by the window and waited for a while, only to see a withered palm with slender black nails sticking out of the window, and the Red Devil showed half of his head, and as he crawled into the house, he scolded: "Fuck, scare Lao Tzu, I thought it really made Barr hear." ”

Arthur just snuggled up in his chair and repeated in a flat tone what the Red Devil had said: "People can sometimes control their own destiny. If we are subject to man, dear Agares, the fault is not in our destiny, but in ourselves. ”

"Arthur!" The Red Devil had smoke on his head, and one eye suddenly swelled, almost pushing Arthur and his chair outside the office: "You don't say a few cool words!" ”

Arthur sat by the door, frowning and staring at the black tea cup in his hand, and said unhappily: "Agareth, you pay attention next time, you almost spilled my black tea." Do you know? This tea is very expensive. ”

The Red Devil rolled in through the window with his wet head, glaring at Arthur as he lifted the lid of the teapot and poured the tea into his mouth.

While chewing on the tea leaves, he spat at the foam: "What bullshit black tea, I haven't tasted much different!" ”

Seeing him so badly, Arthur just shook his head helplessly: "Maybe." However, our new Prime Minister, Earl Grey, likes to drink this tea very much, and has named it 'Earl Grey', which is the hottest thing in London's tea shops now, and I usually want to buy it but can't buy it. ”

Agareth raised his eyebrows and said, "Can't buy it?" So where did you get this stuff from now? ”

Arthur got up and walked over to the cabinet in his office to take out the tea can, unscrewed the lid, and pointed it at Agareth.

The Red Devil glanced at it, and saw a letter hidden behind the lid, signed Brydon Jones.

When Agareth saw this name, he immediately smiled, he rubbed his hands and smiled evilly: "Oh! My dear Arthur, you've finally learned to do this. People are sophisticated, accept some ordinary gifts, maintain the daily contacts of superiors and subordinates, a little care? ”

Arthur shook his head and said, "Actually, generally speaking, I don't accept these things. But Jones chose to deliver tea this time, and this behavior gave me an inexplicable familiarity, and incidentally reminded me of an unbearable past. Perhaps it is because of this that you feel ordinary when you drink this tea, but I feel a breath of memory when I drink it. ”

"The breath of memory?" Agareth didn't know what the kid was doing today, and he asked, "What's wrong with your brain again?" When you were a child, you were still rolling in the pigsty in the York countryside, and you drank two catties of mud, so you could afford to drink this high-end black tea? ”

Arthur was not angry at him for such ridicule, he just said, "Agareth, I know you have a good taste in art. I also wrote a little poem for this, would you be interested in listening to it? ”

"Oh! My dear Arthur. Have you believed in yourself since you won the Gold Medal at Cambridge? Still writing poetry? ”

The Red Devil grinned, "However, you kid better not pat me on the back, you think I'm that brainless, arrogant Heavenly Vice-Monarch - Lucifer Morningstar?" Just pat me on the back for a couple of sycophants, and I'll forgive you? ”

Arthur said with regret on his face: "What a pity, I thought you were the only one in the world who deserved to appreciate it." ”

Agareth picked up the sweater needle, sat on the window with his legs crossed, and said, "Tell me about it." ”

Arthur smiled slightly, he cleared his throat, looked out the window at the heavy rain and sighed.

"When I was a child,

Homesickness is a small pot of tea,

I'm on this end,

The leader is on that end.

When you grow up,

Homesickness is still a pot of tea,

Jones is on this head,

I'm over there. ”

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, there was a knock on the door of his office.

A nervous voice sounded outside the door: "Report! ”

Arthur squinted at Agareth, and he asked, "Where is it?" ”

The Red Devil raised his red eyes glowing red and glanced at the door, "This one." ”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, he returned to his chair and sat down, and shouted, "Please come in." ”

As soon as he finished speaking, the office door was pushed open, and standing outside the door was Bridon Jones, the chief of the Whitechapel Police District of the Taur Hamletz Region, who was drenched like a chicken in soup.

Jones's face was full of nervousness, and he was trembling slightly with a document in his hand that had just been handed out from Scotland Yard about Arthur's transfer and departure.

Although he had rehearsed in his mind countless times what to say when meeting Arthur, when his eyes met Arthur's gaze, he couldn't help but go blank with fright.

The beating he had received a few months ago lingered in his mind, and although it had been quiet during this time, Arthur had not bothered him again.

But Jones's heart was always empty, and this feeling was even more terrifying than Arthur's reprimand to his face, like someone putting a noose on his head all the time, but he could never guess when the execution would be.

Jones's lips turned white, and his body trembled for a long time before he finally mustered up the courage to speak, "Sir, don't worry. I'm here at Whitechapel, and as long as Miss Fiona does what you say, and doesn't touch the felonies that have a big impact on society, I can guarantee that they won't have a problem. In addition, I am sure that with your ability, even if you transfer this time, you will definitely come back in a short time. I...... No, everyone, we all have faith in you. ”

When Arthur heard this, he just smiled and stretched out his hand and said, "Don't be nervous, Jones, please sit down." I've never left, so what are I talking about? Speaking of which, how is the matter I asked you to check? ”

Jones walked up to Arthur and sat down with heavy steps, and with a trembling hand, he took a document from the cloth bag he was carrying with him and handed it over.

"This is the information that Miss Fiona and the others sent to follow them, because the time is too tight, and there are many things that have not yet been clarified. But if you're not in a hurry, there will definitely be additional things to be sent in the future. The addresses of Mr. Norton and Mrs. Norton, as well as their recent travels and what they have done, are all written on it. ”

(End of chapter)