London, England.
At a corner snack shop in London’s affluent district, a handso man dressed as a British gentleman enters the store nad "India-thed Snacks."
His presence imdiately draws attention; his high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, thick golden hair, and profound gaze stand sowhat apart from the style of current British youth.
Although his face appears quite youthful, resembling soone around seventeen or eighteen years old, his every gesture imitates the behavior of old British gentlen, standard and exceedingly graceful.
This prompts so of the young ladies dining here to lant, expressing regret: he’s quite a handso man, but every movent seems old and staid, as if their elderly father suddenly appeared before them, utterly quashing any romantic notions of "a sweet romance."
The young man ignores the gazes of the ladies and walks straight towards the counter, his cane tapping rhythmically and powerfully against the wooden floor.
He politely asks the waiter, "Sir! Do you have Stargazy Pie for sale here?"
The waiter is young, with a bit of a dandy appearance; he claims to be from India, yet his Oriental face suggests he’s lying. However, patrons don’t mind; part of the allure of dining here is that the "Indian" cuisine is supposedly very "authentic," particularly the "Soulful Crispy Balls," the most popular item, drenched in cheese and cream and honey, which even British people praise.
Another reason is the distinctiveness of this "Indian" restaurant, as it’s said that most ingredients are shipped from India, especially various secret spices boasting rich flavors, and even Ganges water is transported to London from India. According to the restaurant staff, Ganges water is akin to Holy Water in India; it’s believed to cleanse the soul and aid British Puritans in ascending to heaven posthumously, with no derisive intent. Puritans considered themselves deserving of such blessings for their devoutness.
Lastly, most diners are promising young talents from the affluent district, especially the well-heeled young ladies. Compared to greasy British chefs, the restaurant’s staff are notably more handso, mainly young studs with Oriental facial features, intriguing and eye-catching.
"I’m sorry, this is an Indian restaurant."
"It’s quite a pity. Do you also not have Curried Chicken?"
"Do you want sweet or salty Curried Chicken?"
"I want it clean and sanitary."
As they exchange phrases at the counter, a slip of paper is discreetly slipped into the young gentleman’s pocket.
"Enjoy your al!"
"Thank you!"
...
Thas Street, London, in the evening.
The man who appeared at the restaurant earlier is conversing with another man, the owner of "India-thed Snacks."
"Mr. Charles, this is a summary of this December’s content from the English Parliant, mainly focusing on the Prussian and Austro-Hungarian wars. Besides this, Ireland counts as a sowhat concerning issue for Britain, but since Ireland is not independent, it’s regarded as a dostic affair." The snack shop owner handed over a thick stack of docunts.
He continued, "In this year’s British governnt internal etings, the priority concerning colonies remains South Arica as of paramount importance, Suez Canal was also ntioned, and there’s hardly any focus on Africa."
The man known as "Richard" asked, "Is the information reliable?"
"We bribed a legislator from the Abergavenny region in Britain; he’s quite close to the current Non-departntal Minister, so he’s very knowledgeable about internal affairs."
"You haven’t slipped up anywhere, right?"
"Rest assured, we hired a Frenchman under the guise of Arican businessn to work for us, claiming interest in British market developnt, and hence are interested in British governnt policies."
"A Frenchman? Is he reliable?"
"We’ve never considered him one of us, maintaining solo contact only. He’s unaware of our true identities."
"Still, be careful not to arouse his suspicion; after all, he’s a Frenchman in Britain. If he were to betray us impulsively, it would spell trouble."
"Hehe, no worries; we know his situation clearly. As a child, he was brought here from France by his father. His father married a British stepmother, but not long after, his father died mysteriously. The stepmother conspired with another man to annex the family estate, and he was chased out of the ho by them. Later, he beca a ’Wudu orphan,’ mingling with hoodlums from a young age. Therefore, he deeply despises the British. Later, packaged by us, he assud the guise of an Arican upstart, interacting with dignitaries and stealing British governnt intelligence. Now he cannot break free from this lavish lifestyle; if he leaves us, he’d be back on the streets."
"Mm, that’s good. Nonetheless, be cautious; not being one of us, we must be wary."
Afterward, he sat on the sofa, starting to flip through the papers, and the entire living room fell silent, with only the ticking of the second hand moving across the clock face.
As he perused, the ti reached late night; "Richard" finally set the docunts down.
As if no one was watching, he took a brazier, threw the docunts inside, subsequently lighting a candle, instantly illuminating the room. It was London winter, so the fire added so warmth to the cold room.
"Richard" spoke, "Continue to closely monitor the British governnt’s actions, and pay attention to the newspapers and public opinion. If there are any topics concerning the kingdom, report them imdiately."
"Mm, rest assured, so of our people have already infiltrated several tabloid offices, and one has even beco the editor at the Tis. If related content appears, we’ll be the first to receive news sources."
"Very good. Now, what the kingdom needs is a stable developnt environnt, so it’s best not to attract international attention, particularly from people here. We currently cannot interfere with the governnt, but we must manage public opinion well; even spending more money is worthwhile. We cannot let the workers in London slums know there’s an East Africa Kingdom in the world. It’s best to employ catchphrases, depicting Africa as terrifying as possible, letting London citizens know that no one even a ghost would visit such a dreadful place as Africa. Focus on rumors about horrifying diseases; even the Black Death would be fitting."
The power of opinion can be manipulated, especially in capitalist countries; as long as you’re willing to spend money, you can set the narrative. The East African governnt is willing to spend more money to make sure the British know that Africa’s a no-go zone, so they might as well stay away.
Although London citizens in slums cannot directly partake in British national affairs, in recent years, strikes by workers have already compelled the British governnt to make changes, granting the working class voting rights in 1867.
In other words, public opinion will increasingly matter in the future, affecting the votes of gentlen in the British Parliant, making it easier for East African governnt infiltration.
That’s how "free" countries operate: capital controls opinion, opinion involves votes, ultimately influencing politics. Therefore, whoever has the most substantial capital can run rampant within the "free" nation’s massive system, which is why in past lives, Arican capital could find its interest spokespeople in all "capitalist" countries.
Yet, the current era version hasn’t updated to that extent; after all, it hasn’t undergone the grinding of different ideological opponents, thereby allowing East African state capital to run rampant across England, Arica, and France’s Three Kingdoms, exploiting loopholes in the version.
Of course, one absolutely cannot ignore the power of workers and small citizens; Britain still relies on them for warfare. So, propaganda about Africa’s harsh climate subconsciously tells these people not to be misled by the British governnt, as going to Africa is a death sentence. Can they fight against the natives, against the diseases? This just ups the pressure for future British recruitnt departnts!
```
User Comments
0 comments from readers