The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1977 - 171: The Patron Saint of British Police_3

"Hmph, you think that’s all? I’m telling you, they aren’t just watching the unions."

The tall one rolled his eyes, biting into the crust of his bread, muttering, "What else could they be doing? Don’t tell me they’re chasing thieves, that’s our job."

The short one glanced around, then lowered his voice, "The other night while I was on patrol, I saw people from the Intelligence Bureau sneak into..."

Before he could finish, the tall one interrupted, "A brothel. You think I didn’t know? They go to those places all the time to stake out."

The short one snapped, "Bullshit! I saw him sneak into Yellow Chrysanthemum Street."

The tall one was about to stuff the bread into his mouth, but upon hearing those words, he jerked and nearly dropped half the bread on the ground.

He quickly covered his companion’s mouth, his eyes wide with alarm, "Yellow Chrysanthemum Street? You better not talk nonsense! If this gets out...you’ll be in big trouble."

The short one pulled away his hand, adamantly saying, "Nonsense? I saw it with my own eyes! That guy was sneaky, slipping into that street and staying there for hours. If he was there to arrest someone, why didn’t I see anyone being brought out?"

The tall one’s face turned pale with sweat dripping down his forehead, "Stephen, are you out of your mind? Can you just talk about things like this? Even if you saw it, you should keep it to yourself. Who dares speak of it?"

The short one folded his arms, sneering, "Speak of it? I’m no fool. Forget it, you just need to know this, don’t ask who it was."

The tall one gulped and looked elsewhere, nervous, "Why would I ask that? It couldn’t be Sir Arthur, right..."

"Sir Arthur?" The short one downed his milk in one go, "You dare suspect Sir Arthur like that. Once I’m back at the bureau, I’ll report this, and you’ll be stripped of your position."

The tall one nearly choked on his bread, "Stephen, don’t fool around! I didn’t say it, you’re the one spreading rumors!"

The short one grinned, "Oh, earlier you weren’t this cautious, mentioning ’couldn’t be Sir Arthur’. If I really reported this, even if you don’t get stripped of your clothes, you might lose that shoulder patch."

The tall one, sweating profusely, anxiously grabbed him, "Brother, don’t joke around! I can’t handle this; my wife just gave birth. If you drag me down, I won’t even have a patrol path to walk."

The short one saw his pale face and couldn’t help but burst into laughter, patting him on the shoulder, "Alright, alright, just scaring you. How could Sir Arthur possibly go to a place like Yellow Chrysanthemum Street? He usually goes to the Nightingale Mansion. The one going to Yellow Chrysanthemum Street is the director of the fifth division of the Intelligence Bureau, Ledley."

The tall one was still catching his breath, but froze at these words, "W-what? You better not be making things up! Sir Arthur... Nightingale Mansion? Isn’t that... where the upper class goes for fun?"

The short one blinked, feigning innocence, "What do you mean, are you saying the Sir is low-class? Besides, the Sir isn’t a saint, he’s a regular at the Nightingale Mansion, even the landlady bows to him. And your focus is quite strange, why aren’t you shocked that Ledley King goes to Yellow Chrysanthemum Street?"

The tall man coughed, waving his hands nervously, "No, no! I wouldn’t dare say the Sir is low-class, I’m worried you’ll spread rumors and drag us both down!"

"Hmph, your reaction is quite over the top, don’t you think?"

The tall one wiped the sweat from his forehead, lowering his voice worriedly, "You don’t understand! The Sir is no ordinary person; he’s about to be promoted to Attendant! It’s all over White Hall, saying that the palace has already agreed, just waiting for the London Gazette to announce it. If a man about to enter the palace is linked to the Nightingale Mansion, it’s no small matter."

The short one paused, raising an eyebrow, "Attendant? Where did you hear this?"

The tall one whispered even lower, almost in his ear, "I heard it outside Minister Rowan’s office a couple of days ago. If Sir Arthur enters the palace, he’ll be right next to Her Majesty the Queen. If word gets out that he’s a regular at the Nightingale Mansion, wouldn’t it ruin his career?"