Chapter 1964 - 534: And the King Is Stabbing the Dagger into His Own Chest_2

In fact, they initially agreed on an exchange of letters, but Mr. Newcastle helplessly found that writing letters for someone like Mr. Bal was practically harder than climbing to the heavens.

They weren't completely illiterate; if they were, they wouldn't understand the Encyclopedia.

However, language skills aren't just about writing words. Some people can explain ten things in one sentence, but Brother Bal here can't clarify one thing even with ten sentences, occasionally letting his right brain be led by the left.

And that's not even the most critical part.

The worse part is that they entirely failed to realize they were doing something dangerous, and to save the cost of a postage stamp, they couldn't resist delivering the letters personally every time.

Saint Sis above, if Miss Marie saw him, he could still explain that they were renovation workers. But if Sir Skidgin, that commoner-based fellow, found out, they'd really be doomed!

Speaking of Sir Skidgin, he's also quite a character.

Ever since he found out that he started seeing Miss Marie, he began to visit his home once every few days and always managed to leave behind valuable items.

Sometimes he couldn't figure out who was sharing the profits in this fire extinguisher business—could everyone just follow the contract and split?

If only he'd known from the start to hire a local for this job!

Mr. Newcastle knew nothing; after accidentally discovering the "scientific method", he'd inadvertently grasped the essence of "multinational corporations".

However, stone mason Bal didn't care about these things; he and his stone mason brothers were more concerned with how to save their home.

"Did you bring the stuff?"

Bal lowered his voice, his weathered face tense and expectant, his hands fidgeting under the tablecloth.

The bookstore where they previously bought the Encyclopedia had already been shut down by the Royal Guard, along with newspapers and other publications from Thunder City.

They used to occasionally see newspapers from Thunder City, but now even the fish vendor dared not use them to wrap merchandise.

Newcastle was his only channel; only this all-powerful Campbell merchant could bring the sound of the "Republic".

If only Newcastle knew what he was thinking, he might find it laughably ridiculous.

All-powerful...

Well, after all, Sir Skidgin was the biggest figure these stone masons could ever meet, so it wasn't completely wrong.

Newcastle glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, then stealthily unbuttoned his coat and pulled out a few books tightly wrapped with the Roland City Times from his chest.

They were several condensed versions of the Encyclopedia, with intentionally worn covers to make them look like ordinary ledgers.

"Here you go."

He quickly shoved the books into Bal's arms and complained in a low voice.

"Don't get into troublesome matters like this anymore... Saint Sis above, these things won't do you any good."

"How could they be useless, sir," Bal tightly clutched the books to his chest, arguing for their Professor Ferguson, "Only by understanding what feudalism is can we find the republic we long for!"

Ha...

Newcastle took a sip of coffee, briefly looked at the man emitting the scent of plaster and made no comment.

He didn't mean to look down on them, but obviously, they had only read the Encyclopedia at face value.

However, perhaps Bal was right; it wasn't completely useless after all. Since... as long as you measure carefully with a ruler, you can always find that the two legs aren't the same length.

He tried it yesterday and it was indeed so.

Newcastle couldn't help but think about what happened in Twilight Province: a group of people who knew not of the Holy Light, inventing a Divine Son for Saint Sis.

"You're right, Mr. Bal. I must retract my latter half of the statement. Please accept my apologies." He set down his coffee cup and cared for his emotions.

What if they win?

Although he didn't know who owned this casino, overall, Newcastle's chips had to be present inside...

Maybe it could save him.

"You don't need to apologize! We should thank you, Mr. Newcastle! By the way, we recently found a priest sympathetic to our cause and he teaches us... wait, don't go yet! That priest is a good man, really! At least, take the money!"

As he held back the rising Newcastle, Bal reached into his pocket in a panic and quickly pulled out a dirty silver coin.

The silver coin was smeared with dirt and sweat, the edges worn smooth beyond recognition—it was the infamous "Laine Iron Coins", no doubt.

"This is for the book... I heard Thunder City's Encyclopedia could be valued at one silver pound. I know you don't lack the money, but this is a token of our appreciation! We can't let you pay out of your own pocket to support our cause."

Bal, without a word, stuffed the silver coin into Newcastle's hand and kept his voice controlled.

Newcastle looked at the low-quality "silver coin", straining to suppress his inner fear, reluctantly sat back while side-glancing here and there.

Seeing no one paying attention to them, he breathed a sigh of relief and sternly pushed the silver coin back into Bal's hand.

"Listen, Bal, I'm not doing this for the money, nor do I need any repayment. This is for my... conscience."

The Encyclopedia is priced at one silver pound, a silver coin can't buy this thing.

Nowadays, there's no public exchange rate for "Laine Iron Coins" and silver pounds, and even the merchants of Laine weren't too keen on collecting those crudely made iron coins. They'd rather take their goods a little further, spending more time, to exchange for money with higher silver content.