Chapter 792: Monster and Brother's Anger
Mention of the Messiah.
I have to say something here.
The Benevento family didn't care about this 'prophecy'.
The reason why Greg knew this was because he had embarked on a different path from his father - just like Malcolm, he was walking on a path that transcended ordinary people.
Malcolm was his protector.
He is also his mentor in the mystical path.
He had known him and lived with him since childhood.
"I'm just trying to see the vague outline of the future behind the fog."
As for what the prophecy about the "Messiah" is, whether the mirror is really magical, and who else has faced the mirror - and even the purpose of these bright or dark organizations that are eager to know the identity of the Messiah...
Greg Benevento had no interest at all.
This world is not without immortals, nor is it without divine servants.
However, the carriage is still a carriage, and the sovereign is still a sovereign.
Prostitutes still rely on sheep intestines and specially made obscene corsets, workers rely on the constantly squeezed reality and sour beer, lonely widows rely on salons and young men, nobles with many children rely on land rent, and those who have difficulty in having children rely on other nobles...
Cats catch birds and birds eat insects.
There are so many great things in this world, but nothing will change.
They fantasize about a so-called "savior" and use him to achieve their own noble or shameless goals...
Greg Benevento thought it was stupid.
"If there really is a 'savior'...I'm afraid Daniel Heffer is more like it than Victoria."
Greck said.
"Artisan Heffer?"
Malcolm said subconsciously: "Those people never do good things..."
"His son is different."
Greg nodded.
"You and I went on that tour, didn't you? Don't kid yourself, Malcolm, you thought it was amazing, didn't you?"
Malcolm curled his lips silently.
indeed.
The various 'furniture' or 'tools' made of copper pipes, gears and metal wrenches actually opened the eyes of a ritualist - it was incredible.
You know what's even more incredible?
“…You should acquire a few mines.”
Malcolm muttered.
If Benevento had known that "white clay" was the raw material for these magical tools, he should have bought a few earlier - he had seen and heard about it, and he knew more or less how much wealth "mastering the raw materials" could bring.
“But it’s not enough.”
"gentlemen?"
"I say you haven't learned enough, Malcolm."
Greg pushed open the wooden box on the table, selected a cigar and lit it.
"White ore is not perfect yet. Just to address the problem of pollution, it takes a lot of energy - even though Daniel Heffer has the support of the Craftsmen's Guild and has a wide network of contacts. Even so, he is still overwhelmed by this matter..."
"Until pollution is resolved, none of his gadgets will sell for a penny."
"Benevento just needs to invest in the best people during the toughest times - we are already closely connected to this city, even flesh and blood:
Railways, waterworks, charities, schools, and the London sewer project my father and I are carrying on.”
"Once we intervene in the mine, we will be dragged into the party struggle - at least for now, Victoria and the secret party have no intention of giving up... not to mention the fly of the Holy Cross..."
Greg sneered.
"Besides..."
"That stuff doesn't just come from the mines."
Malcolm was confused.
Those gadgets were indeed convenient. He could imagine what kind of impact Daniel Heffer and his craftsmen would have on society if they could really promote this new type of convenient life - but that was all...?
In addition to teapots, bicycles, pipes and earphones that allow people to talk across half a street...
Do these things really have the "great value" that you have judged?
At best, it's just another golden smoke.
"More than great value, Malcolm. You have to have some imagination."
When it comes to the ideas of Daniel Heffer and his group of craftsmen, even a cold person like Greg would sigh and praise them:
“They’re trying to change the world.”
Malcolm disagrees.
Can a copper spider leg that automatically brews coffee change the world?
"If they could solve the pollution problem of the white mine..."
"I think so."
Greg stared at the gas lamp next to the bookshelf in a daze.
He had seen the drawings that Daniel Heffer had brought out.
Heard his 'lecture'.
That's why he says Daniel Heffer is more like the Messiah than the so-called 'savior' in the prophecy - if he can fulfill his words.
London, the Empire, the World...
Everything will change because of him.
From now on, mankind will completely enter a new era.
Maybe…
The Gear Age?
steam?
Copper pipe?
——Knock knock.
There was a knock on the door.
"gentlemen."
The maid whispered outside the door.
"It belongs to Master Rupert..."
The latest novel is published first on Liu9shuba!
Hearing the name, Greg blurted out almost without thinking: "Come in."
Malcolm opened the door.
A face with a similar temperament and an equally cold look.
Greco Benevento's personal maid.
"gentlemen."
After she entered the study, she didn't rush to speak. She slowly closed the door, nodded to Malcolm, and then slowly walked to the desk.
"Master Rupert's business," the maid hinted in a low voice.
Greg shook his head. “I told you that Malcolm never had to shy away.”
"yes."
The maid whispered, "Someone wants to take Master Rupert away."
——Crunch.
The sudden force made the wooden chair creak.
"What did you say."
"Master Rupert."
The maid repeated it again.
"The ritualists outside sent a message saying that they saw a woman taking Master Rupert away."
Gleick didn't seem to get the point of the problem.
He looked at the maid who was also trying to keep her face as tight as possible with a strange look on her face: "…You said, 'pick' it away."
The maid said in a very serious tone (trying her best): "It was 'pick' away."
She said.
"They were about to stop her, but they found out that the girl seemed to be the young master's friend - they had already figured out the destination."
The maid said a location, quickly glanced at her master's face, and said hesitantly:
"Should we send someone..."
Greg tapped the wooden table with his fingertips, his face suddenly gloomy: "I said that the stain of Benevento is not allowed to leave its room..."
The maid and Malcolm hung their heads even lower.
"My father and I have already treated it well enough - for a monster that shouldn't exist, or even be born, it's not enough to have food and drink every day... Now, it wants to go out and embarrass itself..."
He spoke slower and slower, and his voice became deeper and deeper.
“It’s a real shame.”
"What's the difference between her and Natalie? She enjoys the benefits of her family, but is unwilling to pay the slightest price for it - she is selfish and never follows the rules..."
“They think the world revolves around Benevento?”
The cold voice almost froze the soft light under the gas lampshade.
"My father said he would smash its knees. I think it is about to make up its mind for him..."
Greg rubbed his fingertips:
"When it's over, send someone to pick it up."
The maid blinked: "After it's over?"
Greg looked at her quietly, without saying anything.
“…Yes, I understand.”
The maid relaxed the muscles on her face, like a ball under water without the pressure of her palms.
Something started to tilt upwards.
She lowered her head even more, knelt down to salute, stepped back, then turned around and walked out silently.
"That's right."
Greg called her, but there was silence for more than ten seconds.
The maid lowered her head and waited quietly until her master spoke.
"There's no need to tell your father about this."
The sound paused for a moment.
"I don't want my father to get angry and fall ill because of the selfish behavior of a monster... He is not young anymore."
The maid pursed her lips and responded.
Mention of the Messiah.
I have to say something here.
The Benevento family didn't care about this 'prophecy'.
The reason why Greg knew this was because he had embarked on a different path from his father - just like Malcolm, he was walking on a path that transcended ordinary people.
Malcolm was his protector.
He is also his mentor in the mystical path.
He had known him and lived with him since childhood.
"I'm just trying to see the vague outline of the future behind the fog."
As for what the prophecy about the "Messiah" is, whether the mirror is really magical, and who else has faced the mirror - and even the purpose of these bright or dark organizations that are eager to know the identity of the Messiah...
Greg Benevento had no interest at all.
This world is not without immortals, nor is it without divine servants.
However, the carriage is still a carriage, and the sovereign is still a sovereign.
Prostitutes still rely on sheep intestines and specially made obscene corsets, workers rely on the constantly squeezed reality and sour beer, lonely widows rely on salons and young men, nobles with many children rely on land rent, and those who have difficulty in having children rely on other nobles...
Cats catch birds and birds eat insects.
There are so many great things in this world, but nothing will change.
They fantasize about a so-called "savior" and use him to achieve their own noble or shameless goals...
Greg Benevento thought it was stupid.
"If there really is a 'savior'...I'm afraid Daniel Heffer is more like it than Victoria."
Greck said.
"Artisan Heffer?"
Malcolm said subconsciously: "Those people never do good things..."
"His son is different."
Greg nodded.
"You and I went on that tour, didn't you? Don't kid yourself, Malcolm, you thought it was amazing, didn't you?"
Malcolm curled his lips silently.
indeed.
The various 'furniture' or 'tools' made of copper pipes, gears and metal wrenches actually opened the eyes of a ritualist - it was incredible.
You know what's even more incredible?
“…You should acquire a few mines.”
Malcolm muttered.
If Benevento had known that "white clay" was the raw material for these magical tools, he should have bought a few earlier - he had seen and heard about it, and he knew more or less how much wealth "mastering the raw materials" could bring.
“But it’s not enough.”
"gentlemen?"
"I say you haven't learned enough, Malcolm."
Greg pushed open the wooden box on the table, selected a cigar and lit it.
"White ore is not perfect yet. Just to address the problem of pollution, it takes a lot of energy - even though Daniel Heffer has the support of the Craftsmen's Guild and has a wide network of contacts. Even so, he is still overwhelmed by this matter..."
"Until pollution is resolved, none of his gadgets will sell for a penny."
"Benevento just needs to invest in the best people during the toughest times - we are already closely connected to this city, even flesh and blood:
Railways, waterworks, charities, schools, and the London sewer project my father and I are carrying on.”
"Once we intervene in the mine, we will be dragged into the party struggle - at least for now, Victoria and the secret party have no intention of giving up... not to mention the fly of the Holy Cross..."
Greg sneered.
"Besides..."
"That stuff doesn't just come from the mines."
Malcolm was confused.
Those gadgets were indeed convenient. He could imagine what kind of impact Daniel Heffer and his craftsmen would have on society if they could really promote this new type of convenient life - but that was all...?
In addition to teapots, bicycles, pipes and earphones that allow people to talk across half a street...
Do these things really have the "great value" that you have judged?
At best, it's just another golden smoke.
"More than great value, Malcolm. You have to have some imagination."
When it comes to the ideas of Daniel Heffer and his group of craftsmen, even a cold person like Greg would sigh and praise them:
“They’re trying to change the world.”
Malcolm disagrees.
Can a copper spider leg that automatically brews coffee change the world?
"If they could solve the pollution problem of the white mine..."
"I think so."
Greg stared at the gas lamp next to the bookshelf in a daze.
He had seen the drawings that Daniel Heffer had brought out.
Heard his 'lecture'.
That's why he says Daniel Heffer is more like the Messiah than the so-called 'savior' in the prophecy - if he can fulfill his words.
London, the Empire, the World...
Everything will change because of him.
From now on, mankind will completely enter a new era.
Maybe…
The Gear Age?
steam?
Copper pipe?
——Knock knock.
There was a knock on the door.
"gentlemen."
The maid whispered outside the door.
"It belongs to Master Rupert..."
The latest novel is published first on Liu9shuba!
Hearing the name, Greg blurted out almost without thinking: "Come in."
Malcolm opened the door.
A face with a similar temperament and an equally cold look.
Greco Benevento's personal maid.
"gentlemen."
After she entered the study, she didn't rush to speak. She slowly closed the door, nodded to Malcolm, and then slowly walked to the desk.
"Master Rupert's business," the maid hinted in a low voice.
Greg shook his head. “I told you that Malcolm never had to shy away.”
"yes."
The maid whispered, "Someone wants to take Master Rupert away."
——Crunch.
The sudden force made the wooden chair creak.
"What did you say."
"Master Rupert."
The maid repeated it again.
"The ritualists outside sent a message saying that they saw a woman taking Master Rupert away."
Gleick didn't seem to get the point of the problem.
He looked at the maid who was also trying to keep her face as tight as possible with a strange look on her face: "…You said, 'pick' it away."
The maid said in a very serious tone (trying her best): "It was 'pick' away."
She said.
"They were about to stop her, but they found out that the girl seemed to be the young master's friend - they had already figured out the destination."
The maid said a location, quickly glanced at her master's face, and said hesitantly:
"Should we send someone..."
Greg tapped the wooden table with his fingertips, his face suddenly gloomy: "I said that the stain of Benevento is not allowed to leave its room..."
The maid and Malcolm hung their heads even lower.
"My father and I have already treated it well enough - for a monster that shouldn't exist, or even be born, it's not enough to have food and drink every day... Now, it wants to go out and embarrass itself..."
He spoke slower and slower, and his voice became deeper and deeper.
“It’s a real shame.”
"What's the difference between her and Natalie? She enjoys the benefits of her family, but is unwilling to pay the slightest price for it - she is selfish and never follows the rules..."
“They think the world revolves around Benevento?”
The cold voice almost froze the soft light under the gas lampshade.
"My father said he would smash its knees. I think it is about to make up its mind for him..."
Greg rubbed his fingertips:
"When it's over, send someone to pick it up."
The maid blinked: "After it's over?"
Greg looked at her quietly, without saying anything.
“…Yes, I understand.”
The maid relaxed the muscles on her face, like a ball under water without the pressure of her palms.
Something started to tilt upwards.
She lowered her head even more, knelt down to salute, stepped back, then turned around and walked out silently.
"That's right."
Greg called her, but there was silence for more than ten seconds.
The maid lowered her head and waited quietly until her master spoke.
"There's no need to tell your father about this."
The sound paused for a moment.
"I don't want my father to get angry and fall ill because of the selfish behavior of a monster... He is not young anymore."
The maid pursed her lips and responded.
