Chapter 285: A Heart Still as Water

"..."

Zhao Bai fell silent for a moment, then laughed awkwardly. "Am I the only one in all of St. Freya Academy who can't speak French?"

"No."

Bronya stated an objective fact.

But then again, that slogan wasn't provocative in the slightest. It didn't resemble a unified protest slogan at all; it was more like the drunken grumbling of a fifth-rate poet between hiccups, with little poetry to speak of.

It seemed this trip to Paris would not offer the romantic spring sunshine he had hoped for.

Chapter 285: A Heart Still as Water

Paris in autumn had its own unique charm.

The night sky was filled with faint firelight, thick black columns of smoke rising into the air. Red-and-white police barricades lay scattered along the roadside, a byproduct of the protest, all crooked and battered beyond recognition.

"Cough, cough."

The environment could hardly be called pleasant.

The main demand of this public protest was opposition to the Ministry of Finance's proposal to further cut pension spending, reducing it to a mere thirty percent of its original amount. It had done more than stir public dissatisfaction—it was practically a knife driven straight into the people's hearts. No wonder it had led to such disastrous consequences. But those were merely surface appearances. Beyond the chaotic protest zone lay a strange place, filled with a profound sense of division.

The drinking continued, and so did the dancing.

The golden bars remained open, the exchange had only just closed for the day, and the glittering theaters were staging Victorian Era plays, as if nothing outside had affected them at all.

On reflection, the clientele of these high-end service industries had never been the poor people participating in the protest. Even if the protesters won, it would not benefit them in the slightest. On