Chapter 1840: Chapter 118: These Are No Ordinary College Students Anymore (Part 2)

"Did you miscalculate a move?" Eld was silent for half a day, then suddenly asked the young man sitting opposite: "Your move is clever but not quite skillful."

The young man opposite did not answer, but steadily maneuvered the last black pawn to the eighth square: "Checkmate."

His voice wasn’t loud, but it felt like the cigar Arthur had just lit, making people frown involuntarily.

The gentlemen watching around had already lowered their heads to exchange looks. Some covered their mouths, some coughed, and some simply raised their hands to rub their temples. It was obvious that, although they weren’t the ones playing chess, even the observers couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for Eld.

Arthur found it amusing and couldn’t help but lower his voice to ask the old gentleman beside him: "How many rounds have they played?"

"Less than half an hour, but it’s already the third round." The old gentleman shook his head and said: "Three to zero, Mr. Carter was shaved bald."

Eld shoved the pieces into the box while saying confidently, "I didn’t eat enough today, couldn’t get my brain going. Next time I’ll play after a full meal."

As he spoke, he suddenly caught sight of Arthur who had just arrived and immediately seemed to have seen a savior, "Arthur, you’re here? Just in time, the oxtail soup in the back kitchen should be ready. I’m paying today."

The main dining area of Simpson’s Cafe was just behind the chess room, separated by a revolving door made of peach wood and frosted glass.

As soon as the door opened, a reassuring aroma wafted through—a blend of stewed beef and sherry wine.

This cafe’s dining area preserved the style of the 18th century, with walls adorned with many oil portraits that didn’t look quite like the people they depicted. It’s said these were all famous chess players of London or frequent artist visitors. Of course, there might also be a few early members of the Kit-Cat Club who hadn’t made a name for themselves.

No sooner had Arthur and Eld sat down than a waiter came forward, deftly laid out a snowy white tablecloth, and handed over the menus.

"The usual?" the waiter asked softly, "Today’s oxtail soup just came out of the pot, and the roasted cod is also good."

Arthur nodded, "The usual, and add a serving of duck liver pate with brioche bread, just one serving; Mr. Carter lost badly today, his appetite might not be good."

"Nonsense!" Eld scoffed: "Get me a serving too. I was just letting him win; young chess players coming to London to make a living is not easy. With the reputation of having beaten Eld Carter, more people will invite him to join tournaments in the future."

The waiter smiled slightly but didn’t poke holes in Eld’s bragging. Not long after, another attendant came over with coffee and a cigar box, placing them on the side table.

Arthur didn’t rush to light his cigar; he first tied his napkin, then leaned back in his chair: "Honestly, who is that young man? By the third round, you looked pale, yet you claimed you were letting him win?"

Upon hearing this, Eld rolled his eyes first, then reluctantly said, "Howard Stanton, I have no idea where this young chess player came from. When I first saw him today, I even thought he was an intern civil servant from some department in White Hall. I figured, this lad surely wouldn’t be so tactless to dare beat me, a third-class secretary from the Navy Department, in front of so many people. But look at that, a three-nil score, he shaved me straight down, this guy’s a bold one."

"Stanton..." Arthur chewed on the name lightly: "Never heard of him."

"If you’re interested, I can arrange for you to meet him next time." Eld was breaking bread with his hands when the conversation suddenly turned: "Speaking of which, why did you suddenly come to the White Hall area today? Aren’t you managing the University of London affairs?"

"I am managing them!" Arthur took a sip of coffee: "It’s precisely because of that, I had to report to Scotland Yard!"

"Report a case?" Eld frowned: "Did a murder occur at the school?"

"No, nothing that serious," Arthur put down his coffee cup: "Students from King’s College came to our school gate to cause trouble this morning, and our students couldn’t ignore it, so they got into an argument. After arguing for a while, things inevitably got physical, and they fought all the way from Gower Street to Tottenham."

"Huh?" Eld hurriedly asked upon hearing this: "Did they win?"

Arthur rolled his eyes at the question: "If they won, would I still need to report the case?"

As soon as Arthur said this, Eld noisily put down his soup spoon, causing the dishes to tremble.

"What did you say? They lost?!" His eyes widened, as if hearing news of national humiliation: "Our University of London students actually lost to those incompetent young nobles, half-baked priests, and bastards from King’s College? Where did Scotland Yard’s police academy in the school go, can these people actually be useful?"

Arthur pursed his lips, it was clear he was equally dissatisfied with today’s outcome: "The police academy was conducting physical training today. If it weren’t for that, even with triple the guts, people from King’s College wouldn’t dare come to our school gate to pick a fight."

"This..." Eld was red-faced with anger: "Back when we were at school, if anyone from King’s College dared insult us from afar, we could immediately tie them up and hang them on a lamppost! And now you’re telling me they got beaten all the way to the school gate?"

Seeing Eld as angry as this, Arthur could only comfort him in a good-natured tone: "It’s not entirely without resistance. A student named Bradshaw fought well, and today he even captured a King’s College association banner and brought it back. Actually, at the beginning, we had the upper hand, but when they reached Tottenham, the students realized they fell into a King’s College ambush."

"If that’s the case, then it sounds reasonable!" Eld folded his arms: "But still, being beaten to the school gate is such a loss of face! Scotland Yard must handle this seriously, London is no lawless land; under broad daylight, how can we let King’s College thugs openly commit crimes?"

Arthur nodded in agreement: "That’s what I think too. After this, I suggest Scotland Yard must set up a post at each entrance of Gower Street. However, Scotland Yard should have no manpower to care about King’s College’s nonsense at the moment."

"Hmm?" Eld was dissatisfied upon hearing this: "Not attending to such a crucial case? Then they might as well not attend to anything at all. What case could be more urgent than King’s College thugs causing trouble, unless His Majesty the King intervenes personally?"

Eld’s question hit right at Arthur’s intention, he glanced around and asked softly: "Can you promise not to say anything outside?"

"Of course, Arthur, you know me, my lips are very tight."

"I know, so I have to make sure first if your lips are as secure as usual. After all, this matter almost qualifies as a royal scandal."

"A royal scandal?" Eld nearly bounced off his chair upon hearing these words.

"Arthur, you can’t speak lightly of such things!" Eld lowered his voice, but his expression was clearly more excited than before, his head almost close to the candlestick on the table: "If Fleet Street finds out and there’s a deviation in reporting, you’ll be responsible."

Arthur leisurely picked up his coffee cup and took a light sip: "Indeed, if so, then I’d better keep quiet."

"Arthur!" Eld looked urgently, "Speaking half a sentence isn’t your style. If you use the tactics you employ against White Hall bureaucrats on me, your friend, then don’t blame me if I flip the table. Quickly, is it Kensington Palace that’s having issues? Or perhaps..."

His eyes shifted: "Is it related to Princess Victoria?"

Arthur didn’t respond, he merely nodded lightly: "Additional information, Lord Elphinsone is currently lying in St. George Hospital. That’s all I really know about it, if you want specifics, you might need to ask those folks at Kensington Palace."

"Aren’t you someone from the palace?" Eld asked urgently: "If you don’t know, how could they?"

"That’s not certain," Arthur shook his head: "I’m just a private tutor; I only visit Kensington Palace during class hours. This incident supposedly happened when the Princess went out last night. I want to inquire among the palace people, but none of them are speaking."

"None of them are speaking?" Eld pondered seriously with his chin in hand: "It seems something really troublesome happened... Right, you mentioned Lord Elphinsone is at St. George Hospital? What’s the story there?"

"I’m not clear," Arthur feigned ignorance: "But I suspect it has something to do with the Princess; otherwise, Conroy wouldn’t have visited today to personally ask me to establish relations with Scotland Yard."