Chapter 531: The Demon King's strength is far above that of a succubus

The parliament hall of Lei Ming City Hall, sparse sunlight crawls over the high window sills with difficulty, falling on rows of conference tables.

Whether in terms of space or environment, this place is far from as bright as the Colin Grand Theater, and far from as magnificent as His Majesty Saint Xisi's Summer Palace.

However, Horace quite likes it here.

Because it doesn't require a ticket, and you can drink tea for free.

Free black tea, it's great!

He drinks a sip with restraint, so as not to run into the toilet before the meeting even starts.

"Gentlemen, silence."

The speaker's wooden gavel hits the oak table, making a dull sound.

Looking at the gradually stopping whispering venue, he speaks in a gentle voice like water to declare.

"The first topic today... let me see, it's the topic proposed by Councilor Councilor Dibike, so let him say it."

The meeting in Lei Ming City is different from Saint Xisi's meeting; the speaker is the host of the meeting, not the supreme power, and not appointed by His Majesty's Baron or Minister.

From this perspective, Lei Ming City's municipal council is still too sloppy compared to the Third Estate meeting with a long history in Roland City.

The speaker sitting here is indeed an "old hand" at meetings, while many new councilors haven't even sat their butts on the chairs yet.

Paint factory owner Councilor Councilor Dibike stands up.

This gentleman, who made his fortune by painting ship bottoms for the Duke's navy, has specially changed into a brand-new dark tailcoat today, and the pocket watch chain on his chest is polished brightly.

He clears his throat, and the letter paper in his hand, which doesn't have many creases, is shaken by him with a rustling sound.

Although this letter didn't cost him a penny, in order to write the proposal for today's topic, he spent a full 100 silver pounds to buy a theater ticket, and racked his brains for a whole night afterward.

All the citizens in the city are concerned about the bell that triggered their resonance, and he will be the first gentleman to speak their hearts!

"Before my speech begins, I want to read a letter first."

Councilor Dibike's voice is loud, just like an actor standing on stage, using a tone of high-spiritedness practiced for a long time, full of momentum.

"This is a letter that a 50-year-old mother, a citizen living in my constituency, stuffed into my door crack this morning; she didn't even notice the mailbox was right next to the door... but that's not important, what's important is what she wrote in the letter, which made me and my wife shed tears."

"She asked me in the letter, respected Mr. Councilor Dibike, my daughter is getting married next month, do I also need to prepare a flower crown tax like Eloise? Who should we find?"

A burst of light laughter rings out in the parliament hall.

Well, you even rhymed.

Lei Ming City is a free commercial city, belonging to the wise Duke, where could there be those bad habits of countryside nobles?

However, there are also those who don't laugh, but curse in their hearts that this shameless bastard Councilor Dibike picked up a bargain.

They could have written this broken topic too!

Councilor Dibike doesn't care about those laughs, but his expression becomes serious, and he even glares at the guy with the loudest laughter.

"... I know what you will say, the open Lei Ming City doesn't have this problem, so don't worry about things that don't exist, I should write back to comfort that mother, instead of wasting everyone's time here."

The speaker coughs and hits the wooden gavel.

"Mr. Councilor Dibike, no one said this sentence—"

"I know! But they all think so in their hearts," Councilor Dibike interrupts the speaker with a compassionate expression and continues sonorously. "However, I still have to say, although the flower crown tax in Lei Ming City is fake, the mother's pain is real!"

The notes of the scribe sitting in the corner of the conference table are fast, and the reporters sitting next to them are also writing fast.

Horace takes a peek at what they have in their hands.

Lei Ming City... mother... pain?

Huh?

He can't help but sit up straight.

This works too??

Fortunately, the reporter of the "Lei Ming City Daily" is professional; that smart young man uses a recording crystal to film.

Horace can't help but sigh in his heart. Magic is truly a good thing.

It would be perfect if it could be used to make money...

Just when Mr. Horace is thinking about his own affairs during the meeting time, Councilor Councilor Dibike is still waving his arms and shouting for the mother's pain.

"... The loopholes in the rules are like cracks in the bottom of a ship; if you don't fix them today, they will leak tomorrow! In order to respond to the citizens' fear, in order not to let Eloise's tragedy repeat in Lei Ming City... I propose!"

He pauses, his gaze sweeping across the audience.

"Legislate to explicitly ban all forms of chastity tax and flower crown tax! We must use the hammer of the law to smash those shackles that might arrive tomorrow!"

Scattered applause rings out.

Most of these people come from his allies, as well as those fence-sitters who don't know which unlucky guy spent money to send them in to drink tea.

Waving fists at the air is always safe; it both wins a good reputation and doesn't really touch the cheese of any big shot.

After all, who would oppose banning a tax that didn't exist in the first place?

Even Horace, sitting in the back row, can't help but want to laugh.

However, he holds it back.

"Now is the free speech time, whoever wants to speak, press the bell—"

"Let me say a few words." Before the speaker can finish, Horace presses the bell, interrupting the speaker's words with a ding.

This stingy guy who was once blocked in his office by workers stands up slowly, his slow movements looking as if that formal suit, which has been around for many years, binds him.

He tidies up that somewhat faded and shabby bow tie, holding a small piece of paper filled with dense writing in his hand.

That was written for him by his factory manager, Aierxi, who stayed up all night last night.

Honestly, Aierxi wrote too literarily, and this guy was at work yesterday, so he should not have watched the play.

Obviously, this is just a summary made for the newspaper.

Horace watched it.

He won't read the original text, but will use common language that dock workers can understand to explain the complex truth into human language.

"Mr. Councilor Dibike said it well."

Horace's voice is light, carrying a businessman's philistinism, which also makes a smile appear on Councilor Dibike's face.

It seems Mr. Horace hasn't taken his light and airy humiliation yesterday to heart, or this guy simply didn't understand his sarcasm.

That was when the stage play ended.

At that time, he walked out of the VIP box to greet Horace's wife, and said with feigned surprise, "Nice to meet you, were you in the box next door just now? Please forgive me for not coming over to say hello; the performance just now was truly moving, my wife cried for a long time, and I just finished comforting her."

The only regret is that Horace's wife just greeted him with a smile, and then asked about his wife.

Just as Councilor Dibike was regretting not seeing Horace's embarrassed expression, his feigned gentlemanly fake smile soon froze on his face.

"... But I must say, this is just giving a good person a good person card; it's useless except for self-moving."

The laughter coming from the conference room is even louder than just now.

Especially the guy who was inexplicably glared at by Councilor Councilor Dibike just now, this time not only laughed very loudly but also made a noise with his chair very ungracefully.

This behavior attracts the speaker's third strike of the wooden gavel, and also makes Councilor Councilor Dibike embarrassed, biting his teeth tightly.

The humorous Horace doesn't look at him, but looks around the parliament hall, using a tone like knocking on a bamboo pole to continue.

"Without chastity tax, there will be wear and tear fees. Without flower crown tax, there will be oil money for lubricating gears, money for polishing the bell tongue, or money for painting the ancient bell... oh, I'm not hinting at our Councilor Councilor Dibike; I remember he does paint business."

"Mr. Horace, first warning." The speaker hits the wooden gavel for the third time, narrowing his eyes and issuing a warning, interrupting this clown's joke.

Horace coughs and pulls the topic back to the right track, suddenly saying righteously.

"What I want to say is, it's not oil, it's not flower crowns, and it's not even the church bell... those who want these things can naturally pay for them; this is their freedom, Horace Textile Factory can even design ribbons for them—oh, Mr. Speaker, please don't hit your gavel first, let me finish the advertisement—oh no, let me finish speaking!"

"As long as the rope for ringing the bell is still in the hands of a small group of people, guys even greedier than me can always think of a hundred names to reach into the pockets of the poor; after all, even guys like me can think of fifty... and this must be stopped!"

The speaker's wooden gavel stops in mid-air, his pair of turbid little eyes staring round, the gavel swaying up and down, not knowing whether to hit it or not.

Whispering spreads in the conference room, and those who were laughing a second ago all tighten their faces, but they can't laugh at all.

Including Councilor Councilor Dibike.

His eyes are even rounder than the speaker's, staring at Horace who is talking eloquently standing there, as if looking at a ghoul who was eaten and then spat out by a demon.

By Saint Saint Xisi—

He has never seen such a shameless person!

Is there anyone greedier than this guy in the entire Lei Ming City?

This is simply like a Demon King calling for Holy Light!

However, Horace still doesn't look at this gentleman who is staring at him dead, but supports his hands on the table, making a creak full of pressure.

"As long as the bell tower belongs to the castle, belongs to the church, the tragedy of 'Eloise' and 'Matthew' will never stop! We will use a holy and unquestionable name to be sad again and again!"

"The love of two souls is God's will; only they themselves who love each other can decide when the bell rings! The sanctity of marriage doesn't need the lord to stamp, nor does it need the priest to nod!"

"We want to take back the power of ringing the bell from the hands of the castle and the church, and let the power of notarizing the law return to our country!"

That sonorous voice echoes in the parliament hall, followed by a long silence.

Councilor Dibike stares dumbfounded at the stingy guy with a poor look, as if meeting him for the first time.

This guy... is crazy, right?

Shock spreads in silence.

Not only Mr. Councilor Dibike is dumbfounded, even the reporters sitting next to him are stunned, unable to straighten their spines that were lowered due to boredom.

Especially the reporter who wrote "mother is very painful" in his notebook earlier.

He thinks left and right, and finally can't help but cross out the story that has no infectious power, and writes down the "heartfelt words" that Mr. Horace just said—

【The love of two souls is God's will; only they themselves who love each other can decide when the bell rings!】

No special reason.

He just thinks this sentence is too suitable to be the headline of tomorrow's news, and he doesn't even need to change a word, just paste it up.

Just because he is a Campbell person, he also watched that stage play yesterday, and this sentence is exactly his heart's voice at that time.

Horace, who is full of violent arguments, accidentally exploded a golden sentence again.

Although the "Lei Ming City Daily" is too pretentious and won't put his golden sentences and violent arguments on the headline, there will always be people as sloppy as him who will love him.

After a short silence, a burst of rough cheers shatters the silent air in the parliament hall.

"Well said!!!"

A man with a wine-red nose can't help but applaud. That guy is the beer boss of the new industrial zone, muddledly carried here by a group of drunks.

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

Lei Ming City's parliament hasn't formed factions, but factions seem to have appeared under the speaker's eyelids, and they are distinct.

Scattered applause gradually turns into a torrential rain, and what rings out soon is not just applause, but the cheers of those "not elegant enough" people.

No matter how the speaker hits the table and shouts for silence, he can't stop those people who can't help but stand up and talk to each other, and the order of the meeting is gone.

"That's right!"

"Why should I look at the priest's face when I get married, isn't it enough to stamp at the city hall!"

"But what if there is no village in the city hall?"

"Then build one!"

Bathed in the applause like a storm, Horace is also a bit confused, not expecting these people to be so excited.

It seems the Duke really put in too many water goods.

However—

When he sees Councilor Dibike's face that looks like he ate a fly, a proud smile still can't help but curl up at the corner of his mouth.

It doesn't seem too bad.

It's a pity his son isn't here; otherwise, he would definitely touch the child's head proudly and show the opponent's embarrassed face to him.

Then say—

Look.

Little Horace.

Some people, even if they stand in the back row of the theater with the cheapest ticket, understand what a bell is better than that high-and-mighty Mr. Councilor Dibike!

And the person with sharp eyes is your father.

When you grow up, you can proudly straighten your chest and tell everyone that you are the descendant of Mr. Horace! You don't have to hide your name like a street rat and flee to another land.

Because we have stood with our people from beginning to end, without stealing or robbing!

Perhaps the Iris Theater Troupe should write a script for Horace; he feels that his story of starting from scratch is much more exciting than the bell!

At the same time, Mr. Councilor Dibike finally lets out a roar that he can't suppress.

However, that roar is drowned out in the vast sea of sound, just like his topic that no one cares about.

"Enough! Gentlemen, where is your order? Doesn't anyone listen to what the Speaker says? He wants you to be quiet!"

"And—"

"That topic was thought up by me!"

The afternoon sun can shine into the parliament hall of Lei Ming City, but it cannot shine into the dock of Lei Ming City, especially the area where cargo is unloaded.

This place is shrouded in huge ship hulls and chimneys all year round, as well as the black smoke spewing from the chimneys.

The air at the dock is permeated with a salty fishy smell, which is the smell of rotten fish and shrimp mixed with coal and sweat, just like salted vegetables.

And at this moment, a group of shirtless dock workers are sitting beside wooden boxes piled with cables, eating the bread and meat sausages in their hands with the "salted vegetables" that have been pickled.

"... I just said, Mr. Horace is a good person!"

Biting the bread hard, Joey, who is as strong as a chimney, has a red flush on his face that is even more excited than yesterday.

"Last night in the theater, it was so crowded, and he took the initiative to shake hands with me! Really, he looked at me with a smile and asked what my name was! I told him my name is Joey, and he wished me a pleasant day, without any disgust for my fishy smell at all!"

Although that gentleman misremembered his name the next second, and even caused him to lose the wine money in the end, for Joey who has never seen a big shot, this is still an exciting trial.

The workers around are discussing the Third Estate meeting of the Ryan Kingdom, and hearing this brother suddenly talk about Mr. Horace, who has been in the limelight recently, they all burst into laughter.

"Joey, are you stupid? Even I would buy a seat ticket to sit and watch the performance; only people like you would buy a standing ticket. You might as well say Miss Eloise shook hands with you yesterday, and I will reluctantly envy you for a second."

The foreman puts the rolled cigarette into his mouth, strikes a damp match, and shakes it several times before lighting it, but his mouth, which is more poisonous than the sun, is not forgiving at all.

Joey's neck turns red.

The workers around are laughing even harder, and even reach out to hook his shoulders.

"That's right, Joey, maybe Mr. Horace was squeezed so he couldn't stand still, and his eyes were blurred, mistaking your arm for a handrail!"

"Thousands of sweating men are together, that smell is not much better than salted fish. Everywhere is sweat, foot odor, and inferior tobacco smell; even if he wanted to be disgusted, he couldn't be."

"Mr. Horace must have been squeezed so he had nowhere to put his hands!"

The air is filled with a happy atmosphere.

Joey is anxious.

But the brothers who went to the theater with him yesterday are not in this dock, and he can only argue with a red neck.

"You are talking nonsense! I'll let Luke come to testify for me in a while! He saw it yesterday!"

A partner who moves boxes together smiles.

"Ha, who doesn't know you are brothers, what can he do if he testifies?"

"Prove that I didn't lie!"

Joey's voice is very loud, even drowning out the melodious whistle in the distance, as if the matter they are arguing about is very important.

"I am a rough person who hasn't read books, but I understand in my heart. Who is good to me, who treats me as a human, I can see with my eyes!"

The laughter gradually subsides.

Some people are because Joey's serious look seems like he can't take a joke anymore, and some people are because of what he said, their expressions are complex.

Treat as a human...

This is indeed a rare thing for people who make a living at the dock; after all, sometimes they compare themselves to seagulls.

This time the foreman doesn't continue to say those ironic and self-deprecating words.

"Fine."

He flicks the ash and says casually.

"Although that guy is a famous stingy guy, I think you have long forgotten, but I have always remembered and haven't forgotten... but I have to admit, he did nothing wrong in this matter."

Mr. Horace is not a good person, but he can barely be considered a human. ===== CHAPTER 532 =====