roccoschili 83. Fulton's Fool
83. Fulton's Fool
Dugan glanced smugly at Gris and Ken.
Gris and Ken, on the other hand, were filled with jealousy.
"Let's enjoy this sumptuous meal!" Dugan could only change the subject.
Gris was also from a wealthy family, so the ingredients for the dinners he arranged were never bad.
The Scottish roasted lamb ribs, with their crispy, juicy skin, are not only tender and succulent, but also sprinkled with special herbs and black pepper.
The French-style pan-seared foie gras, slow-cooked at a low temperature, is soft, tender, and smooth. Paired with handmade fig jam, its sweetness balances the richness, resulting in an exceptional taste.
In addition, there are exquisite dishes such as cream of mushroom soup, roasted quail with herbs, crème brûlée, and fruit mille-feuille, with a mix of meat and vegetables, hot and cold options, and exquisite plating. Each dish is of the standard of the head chef.
The fruit platter was piled high with fresh fruits such as grapes, figs, and cherries.
The alcoholic beverages are also quite expensive.
Chilled French champagne has fine, dense bubbles, and its sweet, fruity aroma fills the air as soon as the bottle is opened.
Aged Bordeaux red wine has a rich color, strong legs, and a smooth, lingering finish.
There are also top-quality British malt whiskies and brandies, neatly arranged on gilded shelves for anyone to take as they please.
On a gilded tray in one corner of the dining table are items of pastime that are quietly becoming popular in London's high society at the time: refined opium paste and tincture.
Unlike the crude products of the lower classes, the opium used by the aristocracy was finely purified, with a delicate and smooth texture and a clear color. Paired with exquisite silver spoons and ceramic utensils, it was regarded as an elegant pastime to relieve fatigue and enhance the evening banquet.
In 1804, this was a tacitly understood way of enjoying life among the British aristocracy—secret, extravagant, and exclusive to the top echelons.
During the meal, Gris secretly slipped a small bottle to Dugan.
"Brother, you'll find this useful." Gris winked. "A genuine ancient Egyptian secret recipe."
"No, I don't need it." Dugan shoved the bottle back in; who knows if this so-called ancient Egyptian recipe actually contained dried mummy powder.
Ken thought Dugan was just being shy, so he handed Dugan another glass bottle, saying, "This is a secret recipe from the ancient Roman emperors; it's definitely more effective than any ancient Egyptian remedy."
Dugan was speechless, thinking to himself, "How old are you guys? You need this to upgrade your equipment?"
Without a second thought, Dugan shoved the bottle back into Ken's hand. "Thanks, but I really don't need it."
"You'll regret this!" Gris and Ken took their secret recipe back.
After a few rounds of drinks, Nina and Scarlett could no longer contain themselves, and Griss and Ken had also secretly upgraded their equipment.
Only Dugan, after taking a shower, leisurely changed into a loose velvet bathrobe before coming out.
That night was a chaotic battle.
Dugan was surprised to find that his many days of yoga practice had indeed improved his abilities in certain areas.
The first to back down was Fatty Ken, who cursed the quack doctor and vowed to smash up his shady clinic.
Next to withdraw from the fight was Gris, who, despite performing much better than Ken, was still panting heavily from exhaustion.
Dugan alone, fighting two opponents at once, held his own against all odds, and was full of energy, charging forward fiercely.
Nina and Scarlett initially shouted defiantly, "Come and teach that bad girl a lesson!"
But later it turned into calling him "Dad," and in the end, under Dugan's relentless attacks, he could only beg for mercy.
Finally, the two ladies had to send their maids into the fight, which barely allowed them to hold off Dugan.
Gris laughed and cursed from the side, "You damned bastard, did you get some secret formula in India?"
Ken, who had long been able to only watch, also said, "Good things shouldn't be kept to oneself. For God's sake, please, tell me quickly."
Covered in sweat, Dugen simply said nonchalantly, "There's no secret formula. It's just that I'm physically fit."
Then, they took Nina and Scarlett to take a bath, one on each side of them.
"Shit, fuck." Gris pointed at Dugan's smug back and laughed as he cursed, "That damn donkey, if Nina and Scarlett both get pregnant with your kids, I'd like to see how you explain this to your family and their old men."
"Then let's marry them both!" Dugan turned his head, grinning wickedly as he looked back, and gave Gris the middle finger.
"Really?" Nina and Scarlett asked excitedly.
"Of course it's fake." Dugan pinched both of them hard.
Nina and Scarlett screamed and laughed exaggeratedly.
Gris and Ken both burst into laughter.
Dugan did not leave Griss’s mansion until the early hours of the next day, just as he encountered a streetlamp worker smothering the streetlights with a wet burlap smother.
"Aldo, let's go home," Dugan yawned. "I have to be back in my bedroom before my parents wake up."
"Yes, young master." Aldo, still wrapped in his clothes, had spent the night in the carriage and was now half asleep.
Aldo cracked his whip, and the white horse snorted, its hooves making a crisp clattering sound on the cobblestones.
Dugen was resting with his eyes closed when the carriage suddenly braked sharply, causing him to stumble and fall flat on his back.
"Fuck you, shit, rotten asshole, are you blind?"
Dugan, still half-asleep and lying on the carriage floor, heard Aldo start cursing.
Dugan got up from the carriage floor and then pushed open the carriage door and walked out.
They saw the carriage they were riding in stopped in the middle of the road, its wheels barely wedged between the stones in the road, and the carriage slightly tilted.
Not far ahead, an inconspicuous horse-drawn carriage lay overturned by the roadside, its wheels wobbling in the air, its shaft broken, scattering tiny wood chips everywhere.
Aldo was standing next to his own carriage, hands on his hips, glaring menacingly at the other man.
Upon seeing Dugen emerge, he quickly explained in a low voice, "I'm sorry, young master, this carriage suddenly rushed out from the roadside, and I had to swerve to avoid it."
"Ugh..." Dugan yawned repeatedly, then his gaze fell on the overturned carriage.
Judging from its appearance, this is an ordinary horse-drawn carriage, which is equivalent to a taxi in this era.
The driver was forcefully prying open the carriage door to pull the passengers out.
The luggage inside the carriage was scattered all over the floor, but fortunately the carriage body protected the interior, and the people inside were unharmed.
Two passengers crawled out from the gap in the carriage door, brushing the dust off their clothes. Their hair was disheveled, but they did not appear to be injured.
Before the situation could calm down, the coachman rushed forward, his face flushed red. He pointed at Aldo and shouted angrily, "Do you even know how to drive?! This road is so wide, if you hadn't been driving recklessly, my carriage wouldn't have overturned! It's all your fault!"
Aldo was taken aback at first, then laughed. How dare a stinky coachman challenge the Earl's coachman?
Aldo was also angry, but he simply pointed to the lavishly decorated carriage behind him and said, "Open your eyes and look."
Only then did the coachman take a serious look at the carriages behind Aldo. Not only were the two carriages luxuriously decorated, but the carriages also bore the coat of arms of the Connaught family.
The coachman immediately fell silent. Although he didn't recognize the coat of arms of the Connaught family, he could at least tell that this was a nobleman's carriage.
People who ride in these carriages are either rich or noble; they're people that a lowly coachman like myself can't afford to mess with.
The driver was immediately embarrassed. Should he chase after the person for compensation? The other party was someone he couldn't afford to offend.
But shouldn't we avoid compensation? The whole family relies on my income from driving the horse-drawn carriage to make a living.
Repairing the car alone will cost a lot of money.
"Sir!" At this moment, two passengers approached. They had also seen the luxurious carriage and apologized first: "Sir, we are so sorry, this accident was our fault."
Before the coachman and Aldo could continue arguing, one of them spoke first, his voice calm and gentle, with a highly recognizable American English accent, and his tone sincere.
Dugan glanced at them; both were dressed in suits and looked quite respectable, but Dugan could immediately tell that their suits were made of ordinary fabric and were poorly made. They were nowhere near the quality of the custom-made suits he usually wore from Cork Street, Condit Street, and Old Bond Street.
"Poor bastards!" Dugan had already labeled them in his mind.
Dugan raised his head, practically snorting his nose at their arrogant attitude, and said, "I almost broke my arm, and my servant almost died. Do you think this is something to be settled so easily?"
"..." The older of the two men was silent for a few seconds, then said helplessly, "Sir, we are willing to take responsibility. Please name your price..."
Dugan didn't really care about compensation; he just wanted to experience the feeling of bullying others.
"Hmm..." Dugan pretended to think, then looked down and saw pieces of paper scattered all over the floor, which seemed to be blueprints for something.
"Aldo!" Dugan winked at Aldo.
Aldo immediately bent down and picked up the few still-clean drawings that had been blown to his feet by the wind, then handed them to Dugan.
"Are you an engineer?" Dugan asked casually, glancing at the blueprints.
These drawings are made of high-quality paper and are very detailed.
It is covered with fine and precise lines, complex mechanical structures, clear dimension markings, and many handwritten English annotations.
"Hmm?" Dugan frowned, looking up at the other person. "This is a steamship? Did you design it? What's your name?"
The older man replied, "My name is Robert Fulton. I'm from the United States and I'm a mechanical engineer. These are my newly developed steamship design drawings."