Make France Great Again

"I suspect this guy has mob ties! Arrest him!"

The arrival of the reinforcements brought the whole battle to a clean end. The fat police chief once again resumed his domineering posture. He pointed his halberd at Jerome Bonaparte and asked the police to arrest him.

Several police officers who fought side by side with Jerome Bonaparte looked at each other but did not move.

"You... are you trying to disobey my order?" The fat police chief was furious against the disrespect for his life.

Later, he pointed at several police officers who were not familiar with Jerome Bonaparte to arrest him.

"Mr. Stalin is not a mob! Mr. Stalin just helped us!" George John stood up and spoke up for Jerome Bonaparte. Jerome Bonaparte showed a gratified smile. This kid still has a bit of conscience.

"I said he was a mob, and he is a mob!" The fat police chief took advantage of his privilege and said nonsense: "Who knows if he is the collusion of the mob just now! Maybe he is the insider of the mob!"

"You..." George John was so angry that he couldn't speak.

"Okay! Son!" Jerome Bonaparte patted George John on the shoulder lightly and said kindly: "There is no reason to talk to this kind of scum!"

"You..." The fat police chief rolled up his sleeves and wanted to beat up Jerome Bonaparte.

"Are you sure you want to fight me?" Jerome Bonaparte kindly "reminded": "If it's a private duel, it will kill you!"

The fat sheriff suddenly realized what Jérôme Bonaparte had done just now, and pulled his cuffs up again angrily.

Fat Sheriff's fear of death deeply aroused the contempt of his subordinates and fellow police officers.

In the 19th century, when the dueling spirit of nobles had not yet completely declined, private duels were undoubtedly a thing for all ages.

Those who dare not fight will be tried to be cowards, and they will not be able to hold their heads high in the noble class.

Therefore, many nobles and civilians will choose duels for momentary grievances. In Britain, the number of people who die due to duels every year is no less than that of car accidents.

"Quick! Catch him!" The fat sheriff yelled angrily.

Although the fat police chief knew that he couldn't do anything to the guy in front of him, he still wanted Jerome Bonaparte to taste what it was like to live in a detention center.

Several police officers surrounded Jérôme Bonaparte, and one of them smiled apologetically and said, "Sir, do you have anything else to say to the family?"

What the police officer meant was to allow Jérôme Bonaparte to find his family members for bail.

After all, the prisons in London can only hold the poor, not the gentlemen of the United Kingdom.

After Jerome Bonaparte explained the location of the Louis mansion to George John, he handed Hamm and the cane to George John: "Be sure to bring what I said to the people in the mansion!"

"I see!" George John nodded in understanding.

When parting, Jerome Bonaparte seemed to think of something, and he shouted at George John again: "Let the people in the mansion tell my family that I was sent to prison by the people of the United Kingdom! They will sue me as a worker Please die!"

George John didn't understand Jerome Bonaparte's meaning, but he still decided to tell the people in the mansion what Jerome Bonaparte said word for word.

With more than 200 policemen "intimately" sending each other off, Jerome Bonaparte and McGrath came to the detention center in the Metropolitan Police District of London.

"Sheriff, it seems that this is not a prison!" Jerome Bonaparte said to the fat sheriff with a smile.

"You..." The fat police chief didn't say a word, and ordered two police officers to lock Jerome Bonaparte and McGrath into the same detention center.

The detention center is not very big, but it is better than cleanliness.

Two small wooden beds, a wooden round table, and an extinguished kerosene lamp on the square table are all the decorations of the detention center.

Sunlight penetrated into the room through the square iron window, which was the only place in the room that could see through. The door with the iron window completely cut off Jérôme Bonaparte's connection with the outside world.

There was nothing important right now, so Jerome Bonaparte could only lie on the cot and wait for Pessini's rescue.

Even if George John hadn't passed the news to Persini, his angel investor, Lionel Rothschild, would have rushed over to bail him out.

Jerome didn't enter the detention center randomly, and sometimes the influence of staying in it would be much stronger than staying in it.

A certain South African "great man" of later generations inspired Jerome.

Besides, the situation outside is so chaotic, the prison is the best way to get out of the vortex.

Just as Jerome Bonaparte was about to close his eyes while lying on the bed, McGrath's voice woke him up.

"Huh?" Jerome Bonaparte opened his eyes and looked at the tangled McGrath and asked, "What's the matter?"

"That..." McGrath reorganized the language and asked: "What are the answers to those questions you just said in that place?"

"What questions?" Jerome Bonaparte scratched his head and asked.

"Overthrow by what? What..." McGrath repeated Jerome Bonaparte's original question again.

"This..." Jerome Bonaparte looked at McGrath with interest, and continued to turn over and lie down.

"You bastard!" McGrath hesitated for a long time, then gritted his teeth and said, "Say it! Tell me what you want!"

Jerome Bonaparte got up again, looked at McGrath, shook his head, and said, "Mr. Karl Marx and Mr. Friedrich Engels are obviously more authoritative than me on this question. You should go to them! As for Say, my question just now..."

Jerome Bonaparte gave McGrath the fragment of the dragon slaying technique in his memory in the form of dictation.

After all, Jerome Bonaparte concluded: "Sometimes revolutions may not appear in places where imperialism is strongest, but those places where imperialism is weakest are more revolutionary! Especially those areas with sharp contradictions !"

"You mean Ireland?" McGrath seemed to understand something.

"I didn't say anything!" Jerome Bonaparte showed a look of "I'm not, I don't have one" on the surface, but in his heart he was looking forward to the sharp conflict between Britain and Ireland, whether it can be catalyzed by the dragon slaying technique. Come out with a big enough bomb.

"The future is up to you!" Jerome Bonaparte said to McGrath in the tone of someone who has experienced it.

After all, Jerome Bonaparte lay on the bed with his eyes closed, leaving McGrath alone to chew and digest the knowledge taught by Jerome Bonaparte.