In the Name of the Queen

"Adam, this is the first draft of the script I wrote. Take a look at it first."

Roland and Adam met in a tavern and gave Adam the script.

Roland stayed up all night to correct this.

He is self-aware and will not arbitrarily change the essence of Gogol's art.

He just figured out how to localize it.

The audience must be able to understand at first glance that this Rakshasa country is Vladimir, and these damn corrupt officials are all Ruriks.

Last night, Roland hummed the divine song "Rakshasa Haishi", found inspiration, wrote quickly, and thoroughly localized the classics of another world.

He was pretty sure that people who saw the show would relate to it.

Even the poorest weaver in Camden could not help but puff up his chest and feel proud to be a Sussex once he saw the Rurik people rotting like this.

This celebration is stable.

The art of satire is to curse people in a roundabout way, so that the person being scolded is so angry that they cannot speak back.

The kind that even Queen Sophia herself couldn't refute here.

Of course, if Sophia were here in person, Roland would definitely not write such a script. He would not hesitate to copy the poem praising the Rurik people for their bravery, fearlessness, iron-blooded tenderness.

He would even push Adam off the stage and perform himself.

Art is about being flexible.

But Queen Sophia herself was not present, so he had nothing to fear.

Irony, open irony, irony fiercely!

Adam looked at Roland's manuscript and murmured softly: "Mr. Roland, is this script a bit too satirical?"

"Too harsh? I don't think it's enough."

Roland's contemptuous eyes fell on Adam's face, as if a knife was piercing his heart.

"What, are you scared?"

Adam's face turned red and his hands trembled, as if he had been greatly insulted. He picked up the wine glass in front of him, drank it down hard, wiped the wine stains around his mouth, and said fiercely:

"You're not afraid, so what am I afraid of? Just act like this! I'll sign up later. Tomorrow is the deadline for registration, so I can't change it."

"Go ahead and remember to write me as the original author's signature." Roland said with a smile.

"Okay, okay, I know you want to be famous." Adam said with a smile.

Seeing this guy laughing and joking, Roland felt a little worried and reminded him in a low voice:

"Remember, you are not allowed to drink alcohol or go to the special service area these days, do you understand?"

Adam snorted disapprovingly and was about to speak when Roland stared at him and said coldly:

"I'll only say the nasty words once. If you miss me, you'll be performing for rotten fish and shrimps at the bottom of the Tamas River in your next life. If someone is watching you, don't seek death."

Adam suddenly trembled, and the smell of alcohol on his body dissipated instantly.

He quickly swore a curse to Roland to express his sincerity.

Roland waved his hand, indicating that he could get out.

After Adam left, Roland shook the wine glass in his hand and fell into deep thought.

Wouldn't it be too smooth?

According to his experience, if you find that something is going very well, it is probably an illusion.

During the Glorious Day celebration performance, the championship will be decided entirely by the masses.

This is Finlay's plan and he is confident of winning the championship.

Letting the masses vote means putting an end to secret operations and purely using hard power.

How could a pretty boy like Roland be his rival as a literary giant at the time?

This logic is completely closed loop.

But Roland always felt that it was not that simple.

Roland has read Finley's works, and among them are classics that have amazed Roland.

Can a fool write such a good work?

He didn't believe it.

Finley is not stupid, so is he arrogant?

This doesn't make sense either.

Finley's arrogance would make sense if it happened before he killed Carl Vinson, but how many big things has he accomplished this month?

Counterattack Lori, win the championship in the essay, kill Carl, and rectify the Knights.

Doing one thing can be said to be luck, two things to be a coincidence, but three or four things are still luck?

Finlay should believe he has what it takes to perform miracles.

Even if it's just to improve the fault tolerance rate, you shouldn't put all your bets on one.

Roland drank the wine in his glass and quickly left the tavern.

He's going to Raikkonen, or even Alina.

He must gather as much intelligence as possible.

Although Sif didn't want him to go to Alina just because he was fine, something happened now.

When things are urgent, follow the authority and don't care about so many things.

The calm before the storm made him feel suffocated. At least he had to see what dirt was hidden under the fog.

Just as Roland left quickly, Adam happened to stroll to the banks of the Thames River.

There are many people coming and going on the long street by the river, many of them young men and women in love.

Seeing those young people sworn to each other, Adam spat on the roadside, cursed a few words under his breath, and then adjusted his breathing.

He was also a little nervous.

The show was important to Roland, but it was even more important to him.

He wanted more than just fame.

He is a wandering Rurik. His father was a transcendent person who eventually fell on the road to the ninth and eighth levels.

My father was speechless when he was dying. He just held his hand and refused to die.

The mother and siblings said several things, but the father shook his head. Until Adam waved the eight sign in front of his father, the old man finally closed his eyes.

My father has always wanted to see the world of level eight in his life.

When his father failed to fulfill his wish, this wish was given to him, the son whose father beat him the most.

Adam had a bitter expression, and he took out a small bottle of strong liquor from Rurik from his pocket and gulped it down.

It was spicy and unpalatable.

I really don't know what's so good about this shit.

But this is the wine from my hometown.

After his father passed away, Adam couldn't stand the increasingly tight censorship system in the country, so he chose to go abroad.

He learned singing in Talia, poetry in Golden Kite, and finally drifted to Sussex.

He heard his father talk about the legend of the Day of Return.

When the Day of Return comes, the threshold for becoming a supernatural person will also be lowered.

He always has a chance to fulfill his father's wish.

Even if he can't realize the ambition of rank eight, at least he can get rank nine.

"This is the last sip, I swear!"

Adam muttered to himself, as if trying to convince himself.

After drinking the wine in the bottle, he threw the bottle into the river, and then quickly slipped away before the exasperated patrolman caught him.

Haha, it's really exciting.

Adam turned into an alley, and was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but found that there were people standing in front and behind the alley.

He half-jokingly teased, "Gentlemen, don't scare me. I have thirty-five shillings on me. I'll buy you a drink and make friends. How about that?"

The answer was the flash of a knife.

The dagger flew and hit Adam accurately.

If he hadn't dodged quickly to avoid the vital part in a hurry, this knife would have taken half his life.

You want my life, right?

Then come on!

Adam's eyes were red, he pulled out the dagger from his trouser leg and rushed forward.

He knew that at this time, only by risking his life could he survive.

"Puff!"

The dagger pierced the body of the front blocker.

Adam roared wildly, like a wounded brown bear, and pounced on him.