The Shadow of Great Britain Chapter 1316 - 177: Hestingov the Poor and Lower-Middle Peas

Personal Information

Na: Arthur Agaresovich Hestingov

Place of Birth: St. Petersburg, Russian Empire

Date of Birth: January 17, 1809

Nationality: Russian Empire

Occupation: Civil Servant

Appearance Description

Age: 25 years old

Height: 2.6 arshin

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Black

Special Mark: A slight scar at the corner of the left eye

Issuing Authority Information

Issuing Authority: Russian Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs

Issuing Date: January 19, 1834

Validity Period: 5 years

Passport Number: 2323451

Travel Permit Section

Travel Destinations: Moscow, St. Petersburg, Minsk, Kiev

Purpose of Travel: Official Duties

Remarks: According to this passport, travel within the Russian Empire is permitted to fulfill official duties.

"My God!"

Arthur looked out at the swirling snowstorm and couldn’t help but feel a surge of sorrow from within.

If this snowstorm doesn’t stop, who knows when the letter he sent to Moscow for help will be delivered.

So might ask, why didn’t Arthur ask the City Hall for help with his problem?

This is precisely the most outrageous part of the city of Druiysk!

For days, Arthur had almost daily gone to the second-floor annex of the City Hall to request a eting with the mayor, but the guards’ responses were always that the mayor was out hunting.

In this blizzard weather, anyone can tell that such an answer is simply brushing Arthur off.

Finally, Arthur was so desperate that he even considered revealing his identity to the guard, but then he thought, if he revealed his identity at that mont, how would he explain that forged dostic travel docunt he had?

If the City Hall escalated this issue, good-hearted Colonel Shubinski wouldn’t be able to wrap things up. Arthur, not even officially on duty, would already be causing such trouble for the Foreign Office that even with the protection of the Earl of Dalmo, his days might not be so easy.

So, even though he kept hitting walls, Arthur could only resort to the simplest thod—hanging around the City Hall daily, hoping for a stroke of luck that the mayor might whimsically show up for work one day.

Agares, seeing Arthur’s plight, couldn’t help but feel a sense of revengeful satisfaction, having been stifled for over half a year: "You dodged the bullets under the Tower of London, yet you couldn’t avoid the petty thief of Russia. Arthur, how does it feel to be capsized in the gutter? How long will your two hundred rubles last? Why not take my advice, bring along the small knife Garibaldi gave you, and lie down in the roadside snow pile, let’s turn to robbery."

Arthur glared at Agares viciously, wanting to curse the Red Devil, but the biting cold wind quickly taught him a valuable lesson—it was better to save his energy from jabbering and wait until the snow lessened to head early to try his luck at the City Hall entrance.

Arthur snorted, shivering and wrapping the tattered quilt from the inn around himself layer by layer, encasing himself like a cocoon, then opened the wardrobe door and hid inside: "Enough of this nonsense. Robbery? I swore under the St. George’s flag to act with a knight’s spirit!"

In the sa city, while so were trembling with cold wind hiding in their closets, others were sitting by the warmth of the City Hall fire.

The fireplace crackled with burning wood. The mayor, in a deerskin coat and a bearskin hat, sat at the head of the round table and suddenly rose to ask: "Is everyone here?"

"Everyone’s here."

The mayor nodded slightly, his face taking on a rare serious expression, sothing people might not see once in several years, and solemnly announced: "Gentlen, I brought you here today to announce so very bad news. According to reliable information, an Imperial Envoy from St. Petersburg will soon arrive in this city. Even more embarrassing, he is likely to co on a private visit!"