The Shadow of Great Britain

The crystal chandelier of the Paris Opera House hung high from the ceiling, casting a warm glow that illuminated the entire theater as if it were broad daylight.

The exquisite carvings on the walls, shimmering with gold leaf, complemented the ceiling murals depicting the bizarre and mysterious scenes from "Demon Rob," as if transporting the audience to that magical realm.

The seating area was already abuzz with voices, as the audience dressed in splendid attire. The gentlemen wore neatly pressed tailcoats, and the ladies were elegantly dressed in silk gowns, carrying delicate fans, with various beautiful feather decorations and jewelry adorning their heads. The noblewomen conversed in low tones, laughing like silver bells, subtly covering their mouths with their fans, appearing especially reserved and noble.

At the center stage, the heavy red velvet curtain slowly drew open, and the third act began.

The musicians in the orchestra pit were already in place, the conductor gently waving the baton as the melodious music began, instantly drawing the audience's full attention to the stage. The actors in lavish costumes, with heavy makeup, exhibited exaggerated and vivid expressions. The lights shone on them, clearly displaying each of their movements and expressions to the audience.

However, just as everyone's attention was focused on the stage, a door in the box section was quietly pushed open, first revealing an exquisite white glove, then a rose-red bow, and Arthur's leisurely movement of slipping a small notebook into his vest pocket.

Behind him were the rebellious singers singing boldly.

"Have fun, gentlemen, I'm heading to the theater restaurant for a bite. Is there anything you'd like me to bring back?"

"Bring back Louis Philippe's head for me!"

"I want Carlo Alberto's!"

"Hic! I'm having such a good time here, Arthur, if it's not too much trouble, just bring my uncle's coffin back to Paris for me."

Click.

Arthur gently closed the door, muttering with displeasure, "I don't think the theater restaurant's menu is that extensive."

As Arthur was complaining, he suddenly noticed the door of the adjoining box was also being opened.

A sneaky figure slipped out, displaying not only the unique slyness of an Englishman in his movements, but also the typical Deutsch violence in the way he closed the door.

"Oh, August, you're here too?" Arthur leaned against the wall, inviting this Foreign Office colleague with a casual posture, "I thought the work at the Foreign Office wouldn't involve brawling with thugs, but looking at your disheveled appearance, I'd believe you just got back from patrolling a back alley in the East End of London."

Mr. Schneider was startled by Arthur's voice, his body jolting suddenly, but upon seeing who it was, he finally relaxed.

Even caught in the act by an acquaintance, Mr. Schneider maintained the usual British gentleman's demeanor and politeness.

Schneider courteously straightened his collar, "The diplomatic battlefield is certainly no less perilous than the East End of London. Drunk ladies can be far more terrifying than inebriated Irishmen."

Arthur glanced at the box behind Schneider, "May I have the honor of knowing which scoundrel is confined within?"

"Oh, Arthur, you're being quite indiscreet with such remarks." Schneider smiled, squinting, "Moreover, every diplomat's private relationships are his greatest secret, as it determines what intelligence he can gather and, ultimately, how high a position he can ascend to within the Foreign Office. Arthur, if you're interested in this aspect, you should explore your potential rather than covet others' resources."

"Alright." Arthur didn't press as Schneider was unwilling to disclose, merely muttering, "I always said Eld was naturally suited for intelligence work, being a diplomat is also a good choice for him."

"Eld?" Schneider searched his mind for a while upon hearing the name, but found no trace, "Is there such a person in the Foreign Office?"

"No, he's attached to the Royal Navy."

"Oh!" Schneider snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up, "Is he employed in the geographic information topology statistics department of the Royal Navy?"

"Even if he's not now, he will be in the future." Arthur took out a handkerchief and blew his nose, "After all, circumnavigation is certainly linked with geography, plus his uncle is a Vice Admiral in the Royal Navy, so I imagine that upon returning, he'll most likely be assigned there for service."

"Vice Admiral of the Royal Navy?" Schneider immediately inquired, "What is the name of your friend?"

Arthur curled his lip, "Eld Carter, I think figuring out who his uncle is shouldn't be difficult, considering there's only one General Carter in the Royal Navy."

"Indeed, it's not hard to guess."

As an official admirer, Schneider could enumerate the names of these British dignitaries.

"Is it General John Carter? The Carter family has a significant influence in Ireland and could almost be considered a political dynasty. General Carter's father, Thomas Carter, served as Chief Secretary for Irish Affairs and the Chief Clerk of the Irish Court. He was an ardent Whig, a Bachelor of Arts from Trinity College Dublin, yet no trace of classical literature humility could be found in him. His temperament was crude and overbearing, though not lacking a cunning mind. He greatly resented the central government meddling in Irish affairs and often obstructed it. Horace Walpole held him in high regard, describing him as 'an extraordinarily capable intriguer.'"