Fantasy Writers 1860

Since she didn't know which part was more harmful at the beginning, Aliya had no choice but to start reading from the beginning.

She found the previous content quite boring until she saw the jokes section.

Her room, which was empty except for her, was suddenly filled with cheerful laughter.

"This is really, really funny..." Alya couldn't help but chuckle. This was one of the few truly funny jokes she had ever heard.

Anyway, she couldn't understand what many people called Britannian humor.

However, after a brief chuckle, she immediately suppressed her smile, her gaze sweeping seriously over the newspaper spread out on the bed, and she fell into deep thought.

She quickly figured something out.

The councilor who wrote the letter was right; these jokes were indeed dangerous, more dangerous than she had anticipated.

In fact, satire is not a newly invented sophisticated technique, and political satire is far from new. Newspapers like The Britannian and Little Sun ridicule politicians daily, and Time magazine frequently criticizes the government.

But these jokes are different from them; they don't contain righteous criticism or exposure, they don't stand on moral high ground, and they don't have any tearful accusations.

They're just jokes, nothing more than things that make people laugh.

That is precisely its danger.

Because it will make readers laugh out loud.

Once that kind of laughter appears, many things are shattered and can never be recovered.

When people see these kinds of jokes, they don't feel like they're being "enlightened"; they just find them funny. This laughter is light and genuine, without any of the heaviness of being forced to learn.

However, it is precisely this relaxed laughter that silently dismantles the originally unbreakable "authority," "taken-for-grantedness," and "seriousness."

When you stop seeing the other person as a serious opponent and instead see them as a ridiculous clown, all their authority and power become part of the joke in your eyes.

"If this laughter were to spread, the imperial order built on fear, inertia, awe, and blind obedience might begin to crumble..." Alia lay on the bed, a jolt of electricity coursing through her body, her limbs trembling slightly with excitement. "That would be... truly fascinating..."

And his foolish father was completely unaware of the danger!

It's a shame he's the Speaker of the Royal Privy Council. With such an incompetent person in such a high position, the empire is doomed sooner or later.

She continued flipping through the pages, hoping to find something similar, and then she found "The Million Pound Note" in the fiction section.

The story grabs her from the very beginning—a destitute young man who unexpectedly receives a million-pound note, which is inherently absurdly dramatic.

One million gold pounds—even our Mondford family couldn't come up with that much cash all at once.

She read with great interest as Adam walked into the snack shop, as if she could see the snack shop owner's initial disdain, then his shock upon seeing the money, and finally his groveling and fearful demeanor... She laughed out loud again.

But she didn't just stay in the moment of pleasure. After laughing, she immediately understood that the author was using an absurd way to show how money distorts human nature.

The huge contrast in the boss's attitude before and after is exactly how most people react in reality, isn't it?

With this main theme established, the subsequent stories will likely revolve around it.

She had even begun to anticipate what kind of magic this million-pound banknote would possess in front of those sanctimonious, self-proclaimed noble lords, ladies, and members of parliament.

She read it all in one go, then flipped through the pages again. Only after confirming that it was truly gone did she get out of bed and slowly walk to the dressing mirror.

She looked into the mirror, where her reflection was clearly visible.

Her long, golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and her delicate, fair face was flushed crimson. Her breathing became heavy, filled with an irrepressible excitement that seemed about to burst forth from her body.

"It is indeed dangerous... But I like it... Perhaps one day, Father's words will come true? The empire will truly be overthrown by these intellectuals with their pens..."

As she said this, she seemed to suddenly remember something, turned around and went back to the bedside, and began to search through the newspapers.

She needs to know who wrote these things.

She flipped back to the joke board and the novel section and discovered that they were both written by the same person:

Mr. Hakimi.

……

"Hahaha, that's interesting! I want to do it like that next time!" A balding man with a thick beard and a scar on his face leaned back in his chair, his legs propped up on the table without a care in the world, and was laughing wildly.

He was holding a copy of the Lentinion Weekly in his hand.

"It's a pity that the Bank of Britannia has never issued a banknote, let alone one million gold pounds. To this day, the largest denomination is only 10 gold pounds..." He sighed as he thought of this.

Just then, a knock came at the door, accompanied by a somewhat shrill voice: "Lord Blackwood, it's time for the meeting."

Upon hearing this, Blackwood removed his legs from the table, tossed aside the newspaper in his hand, and took a brown soft hat from the coat rack.

He didn't like meetings either, but this was a plan personally made by Kirk, the "Emperor" of the Blue Blood Gang. In the future, the Blue Blood Gang would transform into a legitimate organization, and many changes would be needed to "formalize" it.

This includes learning etiquette, dressing appropriately, maintaining a good image as much as possible, and avoiding getting into trouble during this transitional period...

Of course, there are also meetings.

From high-ranking officials like "Dukes" to lower-ranking officials like him who are "Lords," they all need to hold frequent meetings to reflect on shortcomings, summarize experiences, and plan for future development.

However, he has recently started to enjoy meetings.

He realized that meetings were one of the few opportunities he could show off and impress all his underlings.

Previously, his underlings were always stationed in various districts. Even if something happened, he would either call them over individually or have someone pass it on. There was basically no chance to get everyone together.

So I can only show off in front of one person, or at most three or five people.

But monthly meetings are different. You can gather everyone together, enjoy their respectful and fearful attitude, and enjoy the pleasure of lecturing from a superior position!

This feeling is just like that of those "dukes" and big shots.

Sure enough, when he arrived at the conference room, all his underlings were already seated neatly, each one dressed smartly and looking respectful, waiting for him with utmost deference.

Blackwood strode confidently to the head of the conference table, his sharp gaze sweeping over the numerous underlings present. His very first words carried a palpable air of authority:

"Then let's start by reporting on the recent business situation."