The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 599 - 302: Returning Kindness with Enmity?

Bang bang bang.

The smoke of black gunpowder accompanied by several consecutive gunshots.

Liverpool’s old docks in the early morning were already crowded with many dockworkers who had come to try their luck. Initially, the noisy human voices quickly drowned out the gunshots.

But when Great Dumas and Louis and others also began to pull out their guns to return fire, the pedestrians on the road finally realized something was amiss.

Soon, panic spread among the crowd, and people scattered in all directions, quickly turning the scene into chaos.

Arthur and his group clung to the carriage for cover, the revolver’s barrel spitting flames.

Arthur looked around the chaotic crowd for a long time but couldn’t find where the enemy was. He quickly asked, "Did you see who fired the shots?"

Great Dumas bit his teeth and peeked out half his head, "There’s one wearing a coffee-colored wide-brimmed hat, draped in a red jacket, wearing straight-legged pants. There are a few guys next to him, both hands clutching guns!"

Arthur followed the direction pointed out by Great Dumas and soon spotted several criminals hiding among the fleeing crowd.

Arthur silently counted their number of shots and suddenly yelled, "Six shots! Their bullets should be spent, charge at them!"

Upon hearing this, everyone got up prepared to rush forward and subdue the gang, but as Louis just poked his head out, a bullet shot through his top hat.

The close contact with the bullet made the Emperor break into a cold sweat, he yelled, "Damn! They are holding revolvers too, not just one bullet!"

While Louis was fuming, Great Dumas took advantage of the moment the crowd thinned and shot down the attacker at the front.

The various departments of Liverpool that had been tracking Arthur also quickly drew their pistols to come forward in support.

They fired their guns while loudly asking, "Mr. Hastings, are you alright?"

Beep beep beep!

In the noisy, chaotic environment, the sound of a whistle also rang out, followed by a rush of confused hoofbeats.

The local sheriff of Liverpool had clearly noticed the unusual situation in the dock area and was leading his mounted police force to the scene.

The attackers originally thought they only had to deal with Arthur and his entourage, but what they hadn’t expected was that the Liverpool authorities were so concerned about Commissioner Hastings that they had arranged a large number of ’plainclothes’ near the hotel to protect him.

Seeing their assassination attempt about to fail, and as Arthur and others gradually approached them, the leading attacker bit his lip, pulled out a match from his pocket, and threw it into the nearby horse trough.

"Hastings! You government-serving bastard, go to hell!"

A loud boom was heard, and the flames from the explosion soared instantly.

The wooden trough was blown to smithereens, with bullets hidden inside scattering everywhere, instantly piercing through the nearby hotel’s walls and windowpanes.

Several bystanders who could not escape in time were also implicated; they held their bodies where they were hit by bullets, moaning as they fell to the ground. Even the attacker himself widened his eyes in shock, trembling briefly before falling to the ground like a broken kite.

Although Arthur and others were standing at a distance, a few stray bullets still scattered in their direction.

Several holes were made in the carriage door, and Great Dumas was knocked to the ground by the blast wave. Louis and Heine, although less affected, were still covered in mud.

Arthur seemed to be the most unlucky of them all; although not hit by a bullet, a small stone sent flying by the explosion had cut open the corner of his eye, the bleeding wound causing him to feel searing pain.

But more than his own injury, Arthur was more concerned about Washington Irving, secretary to the American embassy. If he was also injured, the nature of this attack would not just be a domestic issue; it would become a diplomatic incident.

Juggling the interests between the Lord Chancellor’s office, the Customs, the Central Health Committee, and the Liverpool authorities was already troublesome enough; he did not want to get the Foreign Office involved as well.

Especially since the Foreign Secretary was still Viscount Palmeston, that notorious libertine from the Irish nobility was not easy to handle.

"Mr. Irving, are you injured?"

"It’s shocking!" Irving, looking at the injured and dead bodies ahead, with widened eyes, responded, "Mr. Hastings, rather than worrying about me, you should take more care of yourself! How is your injury?"

Arthur was quite calm about his injury, as he was already psychologically prepared for such situations; however, what he had not anticipated was that the attacker would launch such a bold assault in broad daylight.

He pulled out a handkerchief to cover his face and even found the mood to make a few jokes, "This little injury is nothing, just a scratch. The attackers’ formation might look scary, but in reality, it wasn’t as effective as the thugs in London. At least when I first joined Scotland Yard, the hooligans in the East District actually had me bedridden for a few days."

Seeing Arthur so composed that he even had the leisure to take out a cigarette, Irving’s hanging heart was somewhat eased, "As always, it’s no surprise that Arthur Sigma is Hastings. Who else could write the ’Hastings Case Files’ other than you?"

Agares, resting his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, picked up some blood on the handkerchief with a finger, the Red Devil shook his head and smirked, "I’ve told you before, Arthur, you never learn. They might not necessarily want your life, but even if they really do send you off, those people wouldn’t mind too much."