The situation on the battlefield was dire, and the situation at home was even worse. Opposition parties, parliamentarians, scholars, experts... there was no one now who was not cursing the government.
If this had been peacetime, protest marches would probably already have surged toward the government to demand an explanation.
There was no need to worry tonight, though. Everyone was busy moving house and had no time for settling scores with them.
There would probably be no trouble tomorrow either. Judging from the current situation, as long as there was no raging storm tomorrow, enemy aircraft would come calling again.
No matter how much resentment people harbored toward the government, they would not march in protest with bombs hanging over their heads.
If they truly stirred up a commotion, they would be living targets. These days, there was no such thing as not harming civilians. Everyone's favorite thing now was to drop bombs wherever people were gathered.
Of course, the bombing of London this time was an exception. Limited by natural conditions, the Holy Roman Air Force had been forced to carry out indiscriminate, haphazard attacks.
Though they had temporarily escaped disaster, no one felt the slightest joy. The longer they bottled it up, the more violently it would erupt in the future.
After a long while, Chancellor of the Exchequer Asquith broke the silence. "The people are watching the government. The enemy has already dropped bombs on our heads. If we still fail to take concrete action in retaliation, I'm afraid we won't be able to answer for this."
Feeling the expectant gazes upon him, Attilio became even more awkward. He wanted revenge too—the problem was that their strength simply did not allow it.
Seeing that he could not evade the issue, Attilio said helplessly, "Don't look at me.