Fantasy Writers 1860

Chapter 86. Explosion! (Seeking first subscription)

In a club in Lentinion, several gentlemen were sitting on expensive leather sofas, some cutting up fine cigars imported from the colony, others reading the newspapers that had arrived from across the Channel that day.

Newspapers and magazines in both countries are almost always available in real time with no delay, and many people in Lentinion also use Iris's newspaper to learn about the latest developments on the mainland.

This time, however, the Iris newspaper seemed to carry some unpleasant news: "Ridiculous! Utter slander!" An old gentleman slammed his copy of the *World Review* to the ground, his beard trembling with rage. "These Iris people actually dare to say we're a nouveau riche nation with nothing but money?"

"Those wretched Iris people! They criticize Britannia's weather, its food, and its gentlemen as hypocrites—I can tolerate all of that, since I can criticize too. But, cough cough—"

The old gentleman was so excited that he couldn't breathe and started coughing incessantly, even as he continued to point at the copy of "The World Review" that had fallen onto the table.

He pointed to an article that took up quite a bit of space, titled "Let the Queen Abdicate, Welcome the Pound to the Throne!"

"

This anger was not just manifested in him alone.

—As everyone knows, true nobles never flaunt their wealth, because they know that true treasure is never gold or diamonds, but rather the spirit of humanity and the virtues of republicanism. Only those nouveau riche who have just climbed up from the ashes are so obsessed with the power of money, kneeling obsequiously before the king; the gold pound has become their new king.—

[Realist writer Hakimi uses honey to wrap his sharp pen, presenting readers with a delicious cake of a poor boy's sudden wealth. However, true gourmets can discern the nauseating picture hidden behind that sweet fantasy: a gold pound empire where everyone worships the gold pound as the new king.]

He revealed to the world the underlying logic of this pound empire's operation, and his first work already exhibited a style characterized by profound social criticism, biting satire, and humor. Given time, he may very well become the Stendhal and Balzac of Britannia, which would be a stroke of luck for this cultural wasteland.

Look, this is Londinion, where virtue, art, and bloodline are no match for money. This nation has utterly lost its human dignity, reduced to mindless zombies corrupted by money, and the queen on the throne is merely a beautiful puppet. Perhaps one day, the Britannians will respectfully ask their queen to abdicate and let the gold pound reign supreme!

This literary review of *The Million Pound Stud* can only be described in one word by Britannians:

burst!

While The World Review is not a major newspaper like Le Figaro that represents an official stance, it is not an obscure roadside tabloid either.

It is a comprehensive information newspaper with a relatively large circulation, and it performs quite well in this field.

It primarily publishes news from around the world, followed by commentary and analysis from professional commentators.

Many capitalists in Lentinion also subscribe to this newspaper to read about developments at home and abroad, as well as expert commentary and analysis, in order to find business opportunities.

But I don't know what got into me today, I suddenly started posting this article.

This wasn't just openly praising Mr. Hakimi while subtly mocking Britannia; it was blatant insult without any pretense. Who could tolerate that?

"These people are just jealous! Jealous that we make money in business!"

"These aspiring writers have no shame whatsoever in their pursuit of fame!"

"What kind of talk is this? What gold pound empire and money-worshipping society? Has this author ever even been to Britannia? He hasn't even been here, yet he's spouting nonsense—"

"This Mr. Hakimi is truly a traitor! As a Britannian, instead of being grateful for the Empire's nurturing, he ignores the Empire's newly launched battleships, its newly invented difference engines, and its newly constructed railways and buildings. He only writes about these negative things, which makes it perfectly clear what his intentions are."

In an instant, all the gentlemen in the room turned pale and began to condemn Mr. Hakimi, the source of all evil, wishing they could tear him apart.

As the elite of their time, none of them were fools. They knew that there was some truth to the comments in the Iris newspaper, and that some of the things Mr. Hakimi satirized with humor did exist.

But this is just like saying, "Only we can criticize our university's garbage, and outsiders are not allowed to say anything."

Now that the Britannian Empire is thriving, who among the beneficiaries doesn't have a bit of national pride?

But it is precisely because they all know in their hearts that what others say makes sense that they feel particularly aggrieved at this moment.

Just then, a gentleman wearing a soft hat interrupted the indignant crowd, smiling as he pulled out another magazine: "Gentlemen, I know you are very angry, but to be honest, we have to admit that what that Iris man said makes sense. The Empire does have its shortcomings, but—"

"—But are their irises really as pure as described in that article, like a little white flower?"

"You can take a look at the articles published by my magazine; I believe they will give you more to think about."

O

Mr. Bentley tried his best to control his expression and not laugh out loud.

This is truly a fantastic publicity opportunity! If we can successfully appease these gentlemen, perhaps our Bentley Weekly will be able to break into the high-end market!

Hold it in, you can't laugh.

Let's announce the victory in ten minutes.

The group, who were still angry, suddenly realized what Bentley meant when they heard his words.

Yes, we're not doing well, but what about the iris?

They're worse off, so why can't we be better off?

The group took the magazine Bentley handed them and immediately saw an article titled "Necklace".

Below the title is an unfamiliar name, Dorian Winchester White, and a disclaimer:

This story is purely fictional and aims to explore the loss of values ​​within a specific cultural context, in order to warn the world.

What a load of rubbish! What kind of writing requires a disclaimer at the beginning?

This further fueled everyone's curiosity.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" A young gentleman who was among the first to get his hands on Bentley's Weekly suddenly slammed his fist on the table. "This novel is brilliant!"

"I think this work is a perfect counterattack—no, a precise strike against the Iris people! This Mr. Dorian is the true pillar of the nation; this is what writers should be doing!"