Chapter 1939 - 529: The Demon King Far Surpasses the Enchanting Demon in Strength_3

Just because he is a Campbell person, he also watched that stage play yesterday, and this sentence was exactly what he felt at the time.

The much-discussed Mr. Horace accidentally blurted out another golden phrase.

Although the "Thunder City Daily" is too dignified to put his golden phrases and bold statements on the headlines, there are always people as reckless as him who will love him.

After a brief silence in the Parliament Hall, a coarse cheer shattered the dead air.

"Well said!!!"

A man with a red bulbous nose couldn't help but clap. That guy was a beer owner from the New Industrial Zone, who had been muddledly carried in here by a group of drunkards.

Horace usually looked down on him the most, but didn't expect this guy to become his supporter, and for a moment he didn't know what to do but squeezed out a decent smile at him.

The Thunder City parliament hasn't formed factions yet, but factions seem to have appeared under the Speaker's nose, distinctly delineated.

The sparse applause gradually turned into a pouring rain, and soon it wasn't just applause, but also cheers from those "not-so-elegant people".

No matter how the Speaker knocked the table and shouted for quiet, he couldn't stop the people who couldn't help but stand up, chatting and making the meeting's order vanish completely.

"That's right!"

"Why should I have to look at the Priest's face to get married, just get a stamp at City Hall and it's done!"

"But what if there's no City Hall in the village?"

"Then build one!"

Bathed in the stormy applause, Horace was also a bit confused, not expecting these people to be so excited.

It seems the Duke did let in too much trash.

However—

When he saw Dibico's face, as if he had swallowed a fly, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl into a smug smile.

It didn't seem that bad after all.

It's a pity his son isn't here, otherwise, he would proudly pat the child's head and show him the opponent's frustrated face.

Then say—

Look.

Little Horace.

Some people, even with the cheapest tickets standing at the back of the theater, understand what the Bell Sound is better than that high and mighty Mr. Dibico!

And that sharp-eyed person is your father.

When you grow up, you can proudly hold your head high and tell everyone you are a descendant of Mr. Horace! You don't have to hide your name and flee like a gutter rat.

Because we have always stood with our people, without stealing or robbing!

Perhaps the Iris Flower Theater Troupe should write a script for Horace, he thinks his rags-to-riches story is much more exciting than Bell Sound!

Meanwhile, Mr. Dibico finally let out a roar he couldn't suppress.

However, that roar, just like his unheeded topic, was drowned in the ocean-like waves of sound.

"Enough! Gentlemen, where is your order? Does no one want to listen to what the Speaker has to say? He wants you to be quiet!"

"And—"

"That topic was my idea!"

...

The afternoon sunlight can shine into the Thunder City Parliament Hall, but not reach the docks of Thunder City, especially the unloading area.

This place is constantly covered by massive ship bodies and chimneys, and the black smoke spouting from the chimneys.

The air at the docks is filled with a salty and fishy smell, a mix of dead fish, rotten shrimp, coal, and sweat, like pickles.

And at this moment, a group of bare-chested dock workers sat by a pile of rope-stacked wooden boxes, eating the "pickled" flavored bread and sausage.

"... I told you, Mr. Horace is a good person!"

Taking a big bite of bread, Joey, built like a chimney, wore a blush even more excited than yesterday.

"The theater was so crowded last night, yet he came up and shook my hand on his own initiative! Really, he looked at me with a smile, and even asked my name! I told him I am Joey, and he wished me a pleasant day, not minding my fishy smell at all!"

Although that gentleman forgot his name the next second, even causing him to lose a bet on drinks, for Joey who had never met a big shot, this was still an exciting experience.

The workmates around were hotly discussing Ryan Kingdom's Three-level Council, and when they heard this brother suddenly talking about the recently prominent Mr. Horace, they all burst into laughter.

"Joey, are you an idiot? Even I would buy a seat ticket and watch the show sitting down, only people like you would buy a standing ticket. Just say Miss Eloise shook hands with you yesterday, I'll begrudgingly envy you for a second."

The foreman stuffed a rolled cigarette into his mouth, struck a damp match, and flicked it several times before it lit, but his mouth sharper than the sun spared no one.

Joey turned red-faced.

The workmates around him laughed louder, even reaching out to hook his shoulder.

"Yeah Joey, maybe Mr. Horace was squeezed until he couldn't stand steady, and his eyes mistook your arm for a rail!"

"Thousands of sweaty men cramped together, the smell isn't any better than salted fish. With all the sweat, foot odor, and cheap tobacco smell, even if he wanted to mind, he couldn't!"

" Mr. Horace probably had nowhere else to put his hand!"

The air was filled with a jovial atmosphere.

Joey got anxious.

But the brothers who went to the theater with him yesterday weren't on this dock, so he could only argue with a red neck.

"You're talking nonsense! I'll have Luke come vouch for me later! He saw it yesterday!"