My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 154 Taking Office as "Earl"

The baron waited anxiously in the room, clutching a crumpled envelope in his hand, which he would occasionally rub nervously.

This situation continued until a servant brought news from the doorway:
"Sir, Mr. Jules has arrived."

"he came?"

The baron was overjoyed and quickly said:

"Quickly, invite him in!"

After a while, Jules followed the servants and leisurely entered the room.

As soon as he sat down, the baron asked impatiently:
"Sir, how is the situation?"

Jules glanced casually at the envelope in the Baron's hand and chuckled:
"The child has improved a lot. He will probably only need to come back for treatment in two days to make a full recovery."

“That’s wonderful…” The Baron took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “I can never thank you enough for your great kindness.”

Yule smiled faintly:
"I ask for nothing more than to return to London."

The baron sighed and handed over the envelope.

"Please take a look at this letter."

Jules frowned, recalling the Baron's earlier lack of confidence, took the envelope, and began to read the letter carefully.

“Dear Baron Bennett”
I am delighted to hear that you are doing well and that you are governing Blancog well, which demonstrates your loyalty and ability.

In these turbulent times, I have a favor to ask of you, and I hope you will lend me your full assistance.

There is a substance here called 'Blue Silver Ink,' a specialty of Blancco. It resembles ink in shape, with a blue-silver hue, and according to ancient texts, it possesses miraculous properties. If you personally deliver it to me, I will persuade the Queen to bestow upon you the title of Earl.

With this envelope and the royal seal on it, you will be able to move freely throughout London. I hope you will make the necessary arrangements and keep this matter confidential. I will be very grateful.

Sincerely,
salute
Prince of Wales

According to Jules's vague memory, the date of the signature was about six months ago.

"Have you finished reading?" The baron's wry smile broke his reverie.

He slowly raised his head and said:
"You mean, you want me to take this letter and enter London as you?"

“Excellent,” the Baron clapped his hands. “Sir, you are indeed clever.”

Jules frowned slightly and pondered for a moment:

"Then why did you say before that you were unsure whether this method would be feasible?"

The baron shook his head helplessly:

"Firstly, some time has passed, and it's uncertain whether the Prince still wants it; secondly..."

He paused and said:

"The Silent Residence is closed, and no one can enter anymore. The only Blue Silver Ink storage is also exhausted. How can we send it over?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, grasping the key point:

"It sounds like you're not worried at all about me being recognized?"

The baron smiled helplessly:

"In reality, we only corresponded by letter; our real connection dates back to our parents' generation."

As for the other London nobles, I never had any dealings with them; after all, I was just a down-on-his-luck baron from a remote island.

His words inevitably carried a lot of complaints.

Jules nodded thoughtfully.

If that's the case, then it seems, it might actually be feasible?

But before that, he needs to find out some things.

He glanced at the Baron casually and smiled:
"Then why didn't you go to London before? That would have been a great opportunity to be promoted to earl."

The baron shook his head and sighed:

“Well, I have to be able to produce this thing too! When His Highness sent this letter, there was no stock at all, so I wrote back to ask him to wait, but there has been no progress at all.”

He sized up Jules and said cautiously:
"But I've always suspected that the priest might have something else—since you're close to the priest, perhaps you can get your hands on it?"

Jules remained silent, but simply bent his fingers and tapped the wooden table lightly.

The room was so quiet that only their heartbeats and breathing could be heard, along with the sound of him tapping on the table.

Finally, after a suffocating silence, he slowly spoke:
"If I am discovered to be impersonating you, it could be a devastating blow to you."

Upon hearing this, the baron's expression changed slightly, but he quickly forced a wry smile and waved his hand:

"Sir, you are overthinking it. I have never met the Prince of Wales before. How could he know the truth?"

Besides, which of the nobles in London would care about a baron from a remote island? As long as you have the envelope in hand, with the royal seal, no one will dare to ask any questions.

Moreover, once you've actually delivered Blue Silver Ink, he probably won't care too much about the truth.

Jules narrowed his eyes, his gaze lingering on the Baron's face for a moment, as if weighing the weight of his words.

He stopped tapping his fingers on the table and said calmly:

“Your method does have some merit, but I need to discuss the specifics with the priest.”

The baron nodded slightly, his expression turning solemn:
"Good luck."

……

It was nearly dusk when they left the Baron's mansion.

Jules, holding the envelope, walked steadily toward the monastery where the priests lived.

While the baron's words made some sense, impersonating someone else was still quite risky.

But if the priests can't do anything, he'll have no choice but to take a risky gamble.

The guards at the gate already recognized him, so they didn't bother to ask any questions and let him through directly.

After a while, Jules pushed open the door to the priest's room and entered. The lamplight illuminated the towering bookshelves and scattered pages.

The priest was leaning over the table, examining something with a magnifying glass by the dim candlelight.

"Priest, how's the contact with the tax collector going?"

The priest stopped what he was doing and shook his head helplessly.
"The telegrams were sent out but received no response. We don't know if they were not delivered or if the other party simply didn't want to talk to us."

After saying that, he said apologetically:

“I’m sorry, I… am truly useless. I initially promised you that I could use this method to return to London, but it has ended up like this.”

Jules waved his hand, indicating that it was alright.

"Since this path is blocked, let's try another one—do you still have the Blue Silver Ink I gave you before?"

"Still."

Jules stared at the priest and said:

"I want to take half."

Upon hearing this, the priest was slightly surprised:

"What do you need it for? To hold a ceremony?"

“I’ve found a new way to get back to London, but they’re demanding a certain amount of Blue Silver Ink from me.” Jules’ tone was calm, showing no sign of lying.

After all, this letter is of great importance, and it would be best if only he and the Baron knew about it.

Although he trusted the priest's character, there was more than one way to open someone's mind in this world, so he had no choice but to lie to him.

However, in a sense, what he said was indeed the truth—he just concealed key information.

The priest pondered for a long time before saying:
"Sure, since you're the one who found the Blue Silver Ink, it won't hurt to give you half. The rest will be enough to deal with any tax collectors who might come."

The priest rose, walked to a wooden cabinet in the corner of the room, opened a hidden compartment, and took out a small bottle.

The liquid in the bottle shimmered with a bluish-silver luster, swaying slightly as if starlight had been condensed within it.

He carefully took out an empty bottle, split the blue silver ink in half, and handed one half to Jules.

Jules took the bottle, weighed it in his hand, and after confirming that it was correct, put it into his pocket.

He looked at the priest and said calmly, “Thank you. I will be leaving for London soon and will let you know as soon as I have any news.”

The priest nodded, his eyes showing a hint of concern:

"Sir, the situation in London is uncertain. You must be careful on your trip."

Clearly, he was genuinely worried about Jules' safety.

Jules smiled faintly:
"Thank you for your concern, I will be more careful."

He turned and left, the candlelight casting a long shadow behind him.

Just as he reached the door and was about to open it, a familiar boy's voice rang out from behind it:

"Grandpa Priest, I'm hungry. Where can I find something to eat?"

Jules was slightly taken aback upon hearing the voice, but he immediately remembered whose voice it was.

Isn't this old John's grandson?
The priest also heard the sound and smiled helplessly:
"This child..."

As soon as the door opened, Jules' eyes met those of the boy.

"Mr. Jules?"

The boy was somewhat surprised, but he immediately bowed in greeting:
"Thank you sir!"

Jules helped the boy up and sighed:
"I thought you would hate me."

The boy was silent for a moment, then said:

“I know you are trying to exonerate Grandpa. It is Grandpa who is at fault, not you.”

This surprised Jules quite a bit—this young boy, at such a young age, was already able to distinguish between right and wrong, and was not controlled by his emotions.

If I remember correctly, the other person's name was Bell.

It seems this kid might become quite a remarkable person in the future...

But wasn't the other party's behavior a bit cold-blooded? Jules couldn't help but frown, feeling conflicted.

He admired the other person's rationality in not being swayed by emotions, but disliked their seemingly indifferent indifference.

The priest noticed Jules' expression and said calmly:

"Little Bell, wait for me at the corner of the corridor. Mr. Jules and I need to talk some more."

“Okay.” Boy Bell nodded obediently and turned to walk over there.

After Bell had walked away, the priest sighed and said:

“This child is actually very sad because of old John’s passing—at least from what I’ve seen, he’s already cried quietly here twice.”

Upon hearing this, Jules' brow relaxed slightly, and he nodded.

"I see. I misunderstood."

The priest gave a wry smile:

"He just doesn't want to show it in front of others. It's really not easy for someone so young to bear all this."

Jules sighed, shook his head, and turned to leave.

He felt utterly powerless in the face of such a situation.

This damn world! Halfway there, he suddenly felt like cursing out loud.

But in the end, he resisted the urge and left the monastery in silence.

Outside the monastery, night had fallen.

Fog obscured the distant lighthouse.

Jules gripped the envelope and the blue silver ink tightly, his eyes resolute.

He knew that this trip to London would not be peaceful.

It could even cause chaos and upheaval.

The Prince of Wales, and the mysterious mastermind behind him, are suspected of having connections to the royal family...

A cold smile gradually crept onto his lips.

"Hopefully England won't destroy itself before it destroys the world."

……

The next morning.

The streets of the town were still shrouded in a thin mist when Jules arrived at the tavern.

At this time, due to the early hour, there were few customers – after all, people who have nothing to do and drink so early in the morning are relatively few.

He approached the counter, about to ask a question, but found that the bartender was not the one he knew before.

"Excuse me, do you know where the legendary adventurer Ram lives?"

The bartender looked at Jules, a troubled expression on his face:

"This one……"

Jules raised an eyebrow, slapped out a pound coin, and handed it to the bartender.

The bartender immediately beamed with joy, took a bite, and pointed in one direction.

"It's on the third street, just east of town, in that red-roofed house. That's where he lives. I think there have been a lot of parties there lately, but I've never been inside."

The bartender accepted the pounds and grinned from ear to ear.

Jules nodded, thanked him, and turned to leave the tavern.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, the streets were deserted, and only a few seagulls circled low in the sky.

Following the bartender's directions, he quickly found the house with the red roof.

The door was half-open, and the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses could be faintly heard.

He knocked on the door, and the laughter stopped abruptly.

A moment later, Lam poked her head out, saw Jules, and a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes:
"Mr. Jules? What brings you here so early?"

Jules gets straight to the point:
"I need a favor from you."

Ram's eyes flickered slightly:

"Please come with me, let's talk somewhere else."

He vaguely sensed that Jules seemed quite serious when he said this, and that it might involve something significant.

Upon entering the house, Jules saw the chaotic scene and his face twitched involuntarily.

"Did you guys have a party all night?"

The room was a mess, with empty wine bottles and half-eaten bread scattered on the table, and chairs leaning precariously, some missing a leg.

The carpet was covered in wine stains and cigarette ash, and a few wrinkled coats were piled in the corner, mixed with women's scarves.

The ashes remaining in the fireplace emitted a faint smell of smoke, the curtains were half-drawn, and the morning light barely shone through, illuminating the messy floor.

At this moment, several men and women were lying haphazardly, looking at him in a daze.

Seeing Jules's furrowed brow, Ram scratched his head and chuckled:
"Sorry, some friends came over last night and I had a few too many drinks—you know, people in our line of work don't even know if they'll see the sun rise tomorrow, so we naturally live in the moment."

Jules nodded, not criticizing him too much, and simply said:

"Let's talk inside."

After the two reached the innermost room and confirmed that the door was closed, Jules didn't beat around the bush and said directly:
"I have a way to get back to London."

"what?!"

Lam became excited and leaned close to Jules, her voice trembling slightly, even her breathing becoming heavy:
"Are you serious?!"

“Of course it’s true,” Jules said with a smile, “but I might need your help.”

"You said I would do my best to help if I could." Ram stood up and bowed.

Jules smiled and said leisurely:
“It’s very simple. I will be operating in London as a baron, or even an earl, and you will be my personal servant.”

(End of this chapter)