People in Terra, poor and weak but invincible

Chapter 535 Poet

Hearing the name from Ahmoni's mouth, Mandela's pair of round cat ears trembled suddenly.

"Are you kidding me? Why is that guy involved in our plan?"

Mandela crumpled the list in his hand into a ball, anger mixed with undisguised fear.

Ahmoni shrugged and spread her hands.

“If you are really curious, you can go up and ask Qi Yan when you see him. Our young intelligence officer doesn’t have the courage like you.

Anyway, now that things have come to this, I will leave now."

"Hey!"

Mandela called Ahmoni angrily and said through gritted teeth, "What should we do with that fake? We still need to notify everyone in Deep Pond to evacuate together. Are you planning to abandon the troops in Hill County?"

Ahmoni's expression turned cold, and she turned to Mandela and said:

“It’s high time you stopped talking nonsense and the ridiculous things that are going on in your little head.

To be honest, these plans of yours are not part of the leader's plan. When will it be your turn to make decisions for the leader? "

Mandela: “…”

After a while, she let out a light "tsk", which was considered as her submission to Ahmoni.

Mandela, who was in a rage, didn't notice at all that Ahmoni, who turned her back to her and walked towards the door, had a happy smile slowly appearing on her face, as if her plan had succeeded.

……

……

The lighting is pleasant and the drinks are clinking.

In the banquet hall, guests raised their wine glasses elegantly, and as the scarlet wine swayed, they finalized one collaboration after another, whether true or false.

There are hypocritical compliments, criticisms of the hypocrisy and selfishness of the current situation... and also outspoken revelations.

Several elegantly dressed businessmen and local dignitaries were showing embarrassment on their faces, because they had just expressed their approval of a big entrepreneur's move to hire infected people, but the next second a man with a somewhat gloomy temperament pointed out the oppression of the infected people by that company.

After the man pointed out the truth, he glanced at the dignitaries who came to him to talk, and silently took in the embarrassment and dissatisfaction on their faces.

The man said nothing and turned and left.

After he left, several dignitaries quickly and naturally changed the subject, and only after the atmosphere became harmonious again did they pretend to be surprised at the man's sudden departure.

The man avoided the crowd and walked to the window of the banquet hall. The cool evening breeze blew on his face, which relieved his tired mind caused by those hypocritical exchanges.

"Good evening, Mr. Williams."

A greeting came from behind the man, and Horn took off his military uniform and appeared behind the man in a dress.

Williams was not surprised to be recognized. He turned his head and nodded to Horn as a greeting.

Horn had never expected to meet this talented poet at this banquet.

But in a flash, Horn vaguely remembered that the poet's position was in favor of the Tara people.

"I hope I didn't disturb your creation." Horn said deliberately.

"Haha, no, I'm just thinking of a little poem in my mind. It's been several days and I still haven't finished it."

Williams was somewhat surprised that Horn could see his true thoughts, which made him interested in communicating with Ms. Rupert in front of him.

He took the initiative to find a topic: "I thought this party would give me some inspiration, but now it seems that writing is something that can't be forced."

Horn continued the conversation:

"Such occasions always consume people's energy too quickly. I can see that you are very tired, and you did not attend this banquet out of your own will.

In fact, I would wager that everyone who is willing to attend such an event is forced to do so because of a living.”

Williams had a gleam in his eyes.

He looked at the horn carefully for a moment, then smiled and said, “If I’m not mistaken, ma’am, you are not from Tara.

You have the accent of a Londinium-educated Victorian aristocrat."

"As expected of a great poet, you are very perceptive."

"The first step in creation is observation. I can see that your intentions are different from theirs." Williams is confident.

"Are you doubting me?" Horn asked with a deliberate chuckle.

"What are you doubting? I came here to exchange some ideas, and you are communicating with me."

"Even though I'm not from Tara?"

"Because you are not from Tara."

When they talked about this, they smiled at each other and both thought that the other was an interesting person.

Williams took a glass of ale from the tray of a passing waiter, took a sip, and continued with a smile:

"It's been a pleasure chatting with you. When it comes to communication, language and words are meant to communicate. They are magical."

"This is because you are considerate of me." Horn said modestly, "If you use the Tara language, I will be deaf."

Williams burst into laughter.

He turned his head and glanced at everyone at the banquet, and said with a hint of mockery:

“You’ll hardly hear Tara at this banquet.”

"Even if the theme of this banquet is the revival of the Tara people's thoughts." Horn shrugged.

"What's the use of thinking? You plant a feather in the soil and imagine it growing into a feathered animal."

Williams sang his own published poems.

He turned his head and noticed the thoughtful look in Horn's eyes. He raised his glass and took a sip of ale, then explained:

“I can see that you are looking for something, but unfortunately, I’m afraid that what you are looking for is not here. There are only businessmen, dignitaries, and a Tara poet who speaks Victorian.

Some people are longing for the revival of the thought named Tara. I am also looking forward to it, but in my eyes, I cannot and do not want to change this land. I am just the one who is trying hard to plant feathers.

Thoughts are free, and no one can interfere. The feathered beasts that grow in everyone's heart are different, just like everyone has different expectations for the future of this land."

Horn looked at the poet in front of him seriously.

Williams' presence seemed so out of place at the banquet, as he was the only sober person.

Horn wanted to say something, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed Bagpipes approaching.

She could only say goodbye to Williams and turn around to greet the bagpipes.

"Captain, something's wrong!"

As soon as Bagpipe approached, he reported in a low voice: "I was observing the situation from the window, and suddenly I found that all the pedestrians coming and going outside disappeared. They must have been evacuated."

"According to the information provided by Qi Yan, it seems that the military has arrived."

As soon as the horn finished speaking, the door of the banquet hall was suddenly kicked open.

Dozens of heavily armed garrisons brazenly barged in, pointed their weapons at the dignitaries in the hall, and controlled everyone as soon as they appeared.

Horn, ACE and others gathered together.

ACE shared the intelligence he had just received: "Oliver patrolled the neighborhood outside. They are all under the control of the military. They are searching for something in a big way."

Horn frowned and looked at the leader of the group of soldiers.

She knew the other person. She had come into contact with Colonel Hamilton when she went to the military base to negotiate. The other party hated Deep Pond very much, and also hated the Tara people who helped Deep Pond to the core.

At this moment, Hamilton caught these dignitaries who were trying to lean towards the deep pool. Horn could imagine what would be the fate of these dignitaries with Hamilton's methods.

She wanted to step forward and try to negotiate to stop the situation from escalating, but ACE held her shoulders.

"This is not something we can prevent." ACE reminded, "Qi Yan has already told us the answer. Now we have to consider how to prevent the next more serious crisis."

"But hasn't the little boy who caused the conflict been caught?" Horn wondered.

"Qi Yan will not lie to us. The Tara people who have defected to Shenchi may cover the entire Xiaoqiu County." ACE said firmly.

horn:"……"

While the two were talking, Hamilton had already completely taken control of the situation, and had no qualms about using force to intimidate these people into revealing the mastermind.

Baron Bolton, the host of the banquet, was trembling with fear at the moment. He shook his head with all his strength to deny everything and tried to extricate himself from it.

Unfortunately, the military's actions were far more ruthless than these powerful people could imagine.

Not long after, Adjutant Hill brought a terrified young man to Hamilton and reported loudly:

"We caught this guy in the corridor outside. He was trying to escape through the window. He must be an attendant of someone present, and he was preparing to tip off someone!"

Hamilton immediately drew the sword from his waist and put it directly against the young man's neck.

The sharp blade sank into the young man's skin, leaving a trail of blood on his neck. Although it was not fatal, it frightened the young man so much that he lost his mind and collapsed into a puddle of mud.

"On the count of three, you must reveal your accomplices and where those people from Deep Pool are."

Hamilton said coldly: "Otherwise I will randomly select one more person from you. Now, three... two..."

The young man was so frightened that he couldn't even utter a complete sentence. The once elegant ladies in the banquet hall were frightened and screamed, and those dignitaries who were once high and mighty were pale.

Horn and others all frowned.

If things develop like this, they will have to take action.

At the critical moment, a figure suddenly walked out of the crowd.

"Colonel, please take me away and don't embarrass this poor, almost unconscious guy."

Williams looked compassionate and walked up to Hamilton calmly: "If you want to ask anything, I think I should know more than this attendant."

Hamilton frowned at the plainly dressed guy in front of him and said irritably:

"Who are you *Victoria swears* and what news do you have?"

"Seamus... Seamus Williams, a poet."

"Oh it's you."

Hamilton obviously knew Williams, and said coldly: "Very good, I thought that a fool like you who kept on using poetry to incite the people of Tara deserved to die, and you just happened to fall into my hands today.

Hill, take him away!"

Williams did not resist, but stretched out his hands and let Hill come forward to put handcuffs on him.

Until this moment, he was still thinking about his unfinished poem.

He finally figured out how to end his poem.

The horns in the crowd could no longer hold back and rushed out to stop Williams' self-sacrifice.

At the same time, there was a crisp sound from the banquet window.

The glass fragments reflected a bright luster under the light, and a stone tied with an Originium bomb flew in and headed straight for Hamilton and Williams.