## Chapter 160: Agareus’ True Purpose
The London sky was shrouded in a thick fog, but through the changing light and shadows cast by the sun behind the clouds, it was evident that the sun had long passed its zenith. As time wore on, it would gradually decline towards the west, eventually sinking into the inky black surface of the Thames.
A black carriage adorned with gold trimmings rolled steadily down the bustling streets of Baker Street. Seated within, a stern and dignified gentleman with slicked-back hair exuded an air of refined Englishness.
His starched, wide-collared shirt was adorned with a perfectly knotted, yet stylish bow tie, while the gap between the bow and his dark waistcoat revealed a lace-trimmed jabot.
Over this ensemble was draped a streamlined black, tailored frock coat. The lily-like, open collar, combined with the meticulously designed, hourglass silhouette cinched at the waist, accentuated the wearer’s figure. He completed the look with a pair of equally dark, tapered trousers, a pair of shimmering silver satin gloves on his left hand, and a brand-new cane grasped in his right.
At first glance, one could only perceive the gentleman’s undeniable aristocratic aura.
The October chill whipped through the air, and the moisture clung to Arthur’s face, sending a shiver down his spine. He instinctively reached for the black top hat resting on his lap, placing it back on his head. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly.
The Red Devil lounged on the seat opposite him. Agareus scrutinized Arthur’s attire with a satisfied nod.
“Arthur, that’s a fantastic outfit. Wear something like that to every social gathering, and I guarantee you’ll have those naive noble ladies crying their eyes out for you.”
Usually, Arthur would retort with some sarcastic quip about Agareus’ flattery, but this time, he simply wasn’t in the mood.
He felt the clothes constricting him more than even the Scotland Yard uniform. Perhaps because he had emphasized the importance of this outfit when he ordered it, the tailor had gone for an ultra-slim fit, tightening it around his shoulders and abdomen.
Arthur even questioned whether a simple flex of his biceps would rip the entire garment, leaving him exposed on the teeming streets of Baker Street.
The discomfort of the attire was bad enough, but putting it on was a struggle as well. Especially the bow tie, which he had specifically asked the social etiquette expert, Dumas, to tie for him. He couldn’t manage such a thing himself.
For Arthur, tying a sophisticated bow tie or creating a pleat was far more challenging than carving a dragon and phoenix into a criminal’s skin with a thin blade.
Worse still, the cost of the ensemble had far exceeded his expectations. All the clothes, from top to bottom, had set him back a whopping 15 pounds and 6 shillings.
Even though he was now a Scotland Yard Inspector earning a hefty 2 pounds and 12 shillings a week, spending a month’s salary on a single outfit felt extravagantly excessive.
Agareus noticed Arthur’s twitching lip and understood his thoughts.
The Red Devil offered a comforting word, “Arthur, if you’re so concerned about money, why do you insist on frequenting bookstores? That ‘London Social Guide’ you bought yesterday cost 23 shillings. And those two or three volume novels, they’re brazen enough to charge you two or three pounds, even forty or fifty shillings.
And yet, you, my dear, have a whole chest full of books. While I admire your little villain’s insatiable thirst for knowledge, sometimes you have to curb your insatiable greed.
Don’t you understand? Your love of reading is one of the reasons you were once so poor.”
Arthur held back his retort, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard those words.
He calmly countered, “Agareus, you can unravel all the mysteries of the world, but does that mean I, a mere mortal, am forbidden from exploring the realms you already know? Or perhaps you want me to remain ignorant, so that you can continuously elevate your own value?”
The Red Devil couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at his words.
He chuckled, “Oh, Arthur, do you really think humanity’s knowledge is that impressive? You’ve read so many books, so surely you understand this: the more a human knows, the less they know. The less a human knows, the more they think they know.
That’s why I don’t like making pacts with ignorant humans. Even if you impart the truth to them, they think you’re just farting.”
Arthur countered, “Isn’t that exactly what you want? Dealing with those people is a breeze. Just go along with their words, gain their trust, and stealing their souls is a piece of cake.”
Agareus used his little finger to scratch his ear. He said, “That’s just too boring. Arthur, in a way, you and I are similar. We both enjoy challenging work. Not only is human life meaningless, but even a devil’s life is ultimately meaningless. So we have to find some amusement for ourselves. Simply existing for the sake of existing, what’s the difference between a human and a monkey?”
Arthur couldn’t help but interject, “Stop mentioning monkeys. That word has become so overused recently, I’m starting to doubt whether Charles’ research is really that significant. Alexander, Elder, Charles, and I, we’re all constantly using monkeys to attack each other, only to find out in the end that the monkey is actually ourselves.
And another thing, Agareus, I have to remind you, you and I are not the same. I don’t enjoy challenging work. My life’s greatest desire, past, present, and future, is to just lie down and chill. The reason I’m where I am today is all thanks to you, you damn devil.
If you’d just let me go to the American colonies, I might be a millionaire by now, selling water or sewing jeans. With that money, I could set up a family business in California, buy a huge plot of land in Santa Clara Valley. Then, no matter what, Apple, Google, Facebook, they’d all have to kiss the Hastings family’s feet.”
Agareus furrowed his brow, staring at Arthur with a look of disbelief. “Wake up, Arthur. You’re going crazy from reading too much. Facebook is already a thing. You’re better off learning from Elder, reading some Erotology Book.
Besides, you’re not doing so bad. As a young Scotland Yard inspector, if you’re willing to put in the effort, you can easily make five or six hundred pounds a year.”
Arthur was about to loosen his tight collar, but then realized it wasn’t appropriate to do so.
He sighed, “That’s easy for you to say.”
Agareus chuckled, “See? You say you want to lie down and chill, but you feel guilty. You’ve made yourself into this mess, don’t you understand why?
You’re just like me, you want to make money without working hard. That’s why I was kicked out of hell. And you, if you don’t change your ways soon, you’ll end up following in my footsteps. You’re still resisting entering the realm you should have been in long ago, but Arthur, I have to tell you, you belong there.
You have to understand, civilization is the creation of a select few elites. They are the ones at the top of the pyramid. The bricks at the bottom exist solely to prop them up higher, to get them closer to the sun.
You can reason with one brick, two bricks, but you can never reason with a whole pile of bricks. Because they’re all misshapen and uneven.
So, to make them all understand, you can’t tell them ‘we’re square bricks or round bricks’, you can’t even tell them ‘we’re bricks’, because some of them think they’re not bricks.
You just have to shout at them, ‘We all need to go to the top’. Only with this simple, absurd logic can you be accepted.
Even if you want to drive them, never talk to them about the complexities of the world. Don’t explain or clarify, because in such moments, intelligence often shakes their minds and weakens their fighting spirit.
Because all the universal beliefs in this world are ultimately fictions. They can’t stand scrutiny, they’ll die if you examine them.
After all, you know, there’s only so much space at the top of the pyramid. If every brick were to pile up there, it wouldn’t be a pyramid, it would be a foundation that everyone can step on.”
Arthur stared at Agareus, unable to suppress his question. “Agareus, I have to say, I’m increasingly confused. What exactly do you want from me, you devil?”
The Red Devil didn’t answer. He simply sniffed the parchment scroll in his hand, then disappeared into thin air.
When his figure solidified again, Agareus was perched atop the Gothic spire of the Royal Academy of Music, a structure constructed from red bricks.
He watched Arthur’s carriage disappear into the distance, then picked up the quill nestled within the parchment scroll with a hint of amusement. He then pulled out a dried inkwell from his pocket.
He peered into the inkwell with wide eyes, realizing it was completely empty.
Agareus reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh, little colored ball, tossing it inside.
A soul-wrenching scream echoed through the air, followed by a single drop of crimson ink forming in the dried inkwell.
Agareus dipped the quill into the inkwell, observing the pitiful drop of blood-red ink on the tip for a long moment. He then glanced at the blank parchment scroll in his hand, finally letting out a curse.
“Damn it, still not working… If I let him keep going like this, I’ll end up losing money… No, I have to give him something new during this social gathering…”
(End of Chapter)