Heine snorted disdainfully at the words, "You say I’m cowardly? I dare to publish a book cursing tternich for having hemorrhoids. Is there anyone in this world bolder than ?"
"Yes, that’s why I don’t get it," Arthur said, catching the coin that was tossed in the air. "Could it be that the intimidation of your two cousins is even greater than tternich’s? If so, they should be Austria’s Pri Ministers."
Heine retorted with a flushed face, "I’m not as incompetent as you think. In fact, I wrote them love letters before they got married, but I was rejected. They said they’ve always seen as a brother. What can I do in such a situation?"
"What to do?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Don’t you Jews have plenty of brothers and sisters? If Alexander were in your shoes, he’d be flipping through the family tree looking for the next sister the very next day. But you, you’re stuck on just two trees."
"Oh! Arthur!" Heine, infuriated by Arthur, retorted sarcastically, "I’m certainly not tied down by two pieces of wood. That’s sothing a guy like you would do! I heard from Alexander that you plagiarized Jesus in London and put on a resurrection show!"
Arthur didn’t get offended; instead, he nodded and accepted it cheerfully, "That’s right, my debut was a great success."
"Are you mocking that my debut was unsuccessful?"
"Heinrich, I never said that. I know poets have very imaginative minds, but don’t overthink. You’ve probably lived in Prussia for too long, so your thinking is just like the Prussian governnt; no matter what you hear or see, you feel it’s mocking the governnt."
"I..."
Heine was so choked by Arthur that he couldn’t utter a complete sentence. After a mont, he downed his beer in one gulp, used a finger to loosen his bow tie, then flipped Arthur the middle finger and slamd the table forcefully, "I’ll show you today that there are things I don’t do, not because I can’t, but because I don’t want to."
With that said, Heine pushed back the chair, his face tinged with a blush of drunkenness, diving into the crowd of girls, "Ladies! I’m so excited today; I’d like to recite a poem for you!"
Arthur witnessed the scene and rely smirked, "Most people are only a finger away from madness. When one starts pointing with the middle finger instead of the index finger, people around will think you are a cynical fellow, and that’s truly peculiar."
Agares leaned against the bar, hiccupping from the drink, the Red Devil maliciously taunting, "Oh, my dear Arthur, you egged Heine into the revelry but what about yourself? You rely push him out as a shield while you hide at the back, enjoying a mont of peace amidst the dangerous escapades."
Arthur glanced at him, "Co on, Agares, that level of reverse psychology doesn’t work on at all."
"Really? You think I’m not stating a fact but provoking you? If so, why are you sitting here?"
Agares put on his glasses, pulled out his hefty leather-bound book, and flipped through it flamboyantly. Suddenly, he pointed at a page and exclaid, "Oh, I got it! The truly skilled angler often waits at the shore for the fish to hook itself! Arthur, is that what you’re planning? As it happens, there are quite a few dumb fish eager to bite today."
With those words, Agares burst into a puff of pink smoke, disappearing without a trace.
Arthur didn’t try to stop him. Ever since coming to Paris, the Red Devil intermittently disappeared. Based on his understanding, the guy was likely out swiping drinks; France was the main source of many fine wines, after all. Agares coming to Paris bore almost the sa significance as Baal passing through a public toilet.
However, Arthur wasn’t in a hurry to take action, indeed due to his own considerations.
There were indeed many charming ladies around, though Arthur wasn’t interested in them—not because they weren’t pretty enough, but because their connections to the gang leader Gervais weren’t close enough.
But sitting alone, drinking sullenly in a tavern full of hormones indeed seed rather strange.
To avoid blowing his cover, Arthur, having finished this drink, would also have to transform into a busy little bee collecting nectar.
Arthur swirled the remaining wine in his nearly empty cup, preparing to down it in one go.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of a coin being slamd down on the bar.
"A glass of beer, Edmond, and don’t be stingy, add plenty of honey for ."
"I know, Clara. Have I ever shorted you?"
The bartender set down the glass he was polishing, opened the tap of the beer barrel, and filled a glass full. Then, with a flick of his wrist, it slid across in front of Arthur, landing on the spot next to him.
Arthur’s gaze shifted, and a young lady took the seat Heine had just vacated.
The girl couldn’t be described as remarkably beautiful, but she was certainly alluring. Her blue-gray eyes were bordered with rouge, a dazzling white bosom, and beneath her seductive short skirt, the pleats of her petticoat were visible. Her corset accentuated her body lines clearly. Below the skirt were legs like lotus stems, and white thigh-high stockings were like lotus leaves wrapping around the lotus stem.
"You know it’s quite impolite to stare at others like this, right?" The girl nad Clara smiled slightly, though her words were ant to be admonishing, her tone carried not a hint of reproach.
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