Holy Roman Empire

Late into the night, within the office building of The Times, Editor-in-Chief Kangles put down his work and stretched wearily.

It couldn't be helped, to ensure the timeliness of news, overtime was the norm in the newspaper industry.

By the time news collected from various places was organized, typeset, and verified, it was already late at night. After overnight printing, it was almost dawn.

Generally, the time news editors finished work was when ordinary people started their day.

Kangles had clawed his way up in this industry for more than a decade, from a basic proofreader to a news editor.

Time spared no one; the long-term reversal of day and night successfully made Kangles part of the balding ranks.

The most critical issue was that his body was struggling to keep up; after working just two or three hours, he felt tired.

He made himself a strong cup of coffee and was about to enjoy it when a familiar voice sounded.

"Mr. Kangles, we've just received some big news."

Looking at the young man with a face full of joy, Kangles seemed to see his younger self, full of youthful vigor.

"Out with it, Rodman. What have you found?"

Frankly speaking, Kangles did not like big news at this time. Today's layout work had been completed, and they were in the middle of the final check before sending it to print.

Receiving big news now would mean all the previous work had been for nothing, and everything had to be redone.

The Times was already Great Britain's top newspaper, and increasing sales was extremely difficult, unless there was particularly big news that could boost sales.

Everyone's income was tied to the newspaper's sales; without an increase in sales, receiving big news wouldn't raise anyone's income.

Rodman happily said, "There's big trouble in Central Asia. Our mission sent to Afghanistan was attacked by locals, resulting in three staff members killed, including Captain Walters, and two injured."

Upon hearing this news, Kangles's face changed dramatically; this was not just any big news, it could even spark a war.

Kangles asked anxiously, "Where did this news come from, has its authenticity been confirmed?"

The Times was not a street tabloid that could publish anything; such political news had to be verified to avoid damaging the newspaper's credibility.

Rodman confidently said, "Rest assured, Mr. Kangles, the news came from the telegraph office.

Just now, Foreign Minister Sir George even went to the Prime Minister's residence overnight, which corresponds with this news."

The Times had become a leader in the newspaper industry for good reason, they were top-class in terms of intelligence.

Although they hadn't gone as far as eavesdropping on Cabinet meetings, the whereabouts of the government elite were well known to them.

The telegraph office, a critical battleground for news media, had long been infiltrated; unless for particularly sensitive news that needed to be kept secret, there were essentially no secrets from them.

Without any hesitation, Kangles made a decisive call, "Everyone stop what you're doing, we need to redo the layout for tomorrow morning's paper."

He paused, looked at the clock and it was already three-thirty in the morning; there was no time left to change the edition.

Kangles immediately decided, "Never mind, no need to change the edition. We'll do a special issue on this news, starting right now with the assignments:

Tom, you're responsible for writing Walters's biography, you can glorify it a bit;

Allen, you're responsible for writing the assassination details, make sure it's emotive;

Michael, you're in charge of writing on international relations..."

As a news editor, Kangles had significant authority. This had to do with The Times' audience, which mainly consisted of society's elites who were concerned with current events.

These customers had deep pockets and didn't mind subscribing to an extra newspaper; what mattered more to them was the reading experience and whether the news content interested them.

In this regard, The Times did exceptionally well.

They were not the only ones who received the news about Walters's assassination; if it was merely a simple introduction, there was no way to stand out from many competitors.

Kangles, seasoned by years in the field, naturally understood this and suddenly decided to do a special issue; their readers loved the inside stories of such events.

...

Every player has its own game. Big newspapers could directly get news from the telegraph office, and small newspapers had their own ways to gather information.

It so happened that the British Empire Times, lurking in the back alleys, also received the news, but Editor Endry, also a news editor, didn't have time to verify its authenticity.

Looking at the article brought by his subordinate, Endry immediately rejected it, "All the content at the front is void, everyone make an effort to produce as much new content as possible.

Remember our core, we must highlight novelty, the content needs to be compelling."

The young man said with difficulty, "But Mr. Editor, we only know about Walters's assassination, we have no idea about the specifics!"

The question came from the intern Karina, who was favored by Empire Times of Great Britain to reduce operational costs by recruiting newcomers.

Of course, since they're newcomers, there are various issues. Due to the salary, they generally don't stay for more than a few months before resigning.

But this is not a problem, for street papers like Empire Times of Great Britain, whether they can survive for a few months is a question in itself.

Endry, the owner and editor-in-chief, frowned but, considering it wasn't the time to lose his temper, patiently explained: "If you don't know, just make something up!

Don't forget, your job title is editor, and the core of your job is in the word 'edit'.

If you knew everything, what would we need you for?

Use exaggeration to focus on portraying the bravery of our fallen heroes, who chose death over betraying the interests of Britannia, and highlight the enemy's ruthlessness and wickedness..."

The truth?

What is that, can you eat it?

For an obscure paper with no reputation like Empire Times of Great Britain, the priority is to attract public attention and increase sales at all costs.

Reputation, credibility, these journalistic luxuries are not something they can afford to expect.

"Dong dong dong..."

The knocking interrupted everyone's work, Endry's brow furrowed, and as the newcomer, Karina was the first to get up and open the door.

"Sir, it's so late, who are you looking for?"

The man in gray spoke slowly: "Is Mr. Endry here? I have a business deal to discuss with him."

When he heard that business had come to his door, the displeasure Endry felt from being disturbed instantly vanished.

You see, a street paper like Empire Times of Great Britain didn't have much advertising revenue; it relied almost entirely on the small profits from selling newspapers.

The biggest extra income came from these under-the-table deals. For Endry, as long as there was money, there was no news he wouldn't dare publish.

This was evident from the various aliases he used: one day it was Empire Times of Great Britain, the next it could be Empire Times of England, and the day after could be something else...

Karina was the first to respond: "Here!"

Before the voice settled, Endry greeted the visitor with a full belly of smiles: "Old friend, long time no see, please come in."

"Karina, make us two cups of our best coffee."

...

The two men had only worked together; there was no personal relationship between them, and Endry didn't even know the name of the man in gray.

But this did not affect their collaboration, as Endry always prided himself on the bottom line of a journalist, always after money, never inquiring about the identity of his employer.

This was why, despite publishing numerous secret news stories over the years, he had not been silenced.

The man in gray took out an article with a check attached and slowly said, "Publish the content on this as soon as possible, and these fifty British Pounds are yours."

Endry didn't respond hastily but read it carefully instead. Like any industry, the street paper business had its rules, and different news messages had different prices.

Generally speaking, the more sensitive the content, the higher the price, and of course, the greater the risk involved.

Conversely, ordinary content was nearly the same as advertising. A street paper with only a few thousand copies in circulation like Empire Times of Great Britain didn't make much from ads.

After a moment, Endry answered with a furrowed brow: "The content is not sensitive so it can be published, but isn't this title a little excessive?

'The Prelude to Russians Invading India,' just from a single assassination case, with no substantial evidence, you're stretching it too far, it seems too much.

If we publish this, it will affect our newspaper's reputation, and it must be modified, for instance to: 'Beware of the Russian Invasion of India,' or 'Russian Conspiracy.'

After all, the result is the same, the suspicion of Walters's assassination will point to the Russians."

Ignoring Endry's request, the man in gray simply countered with a cold: "55 British Pounds!"

Although Endry was very upset by the man's indifferent attitude, he couldn't afford to show arrogance in the face of a cash cow.

In those days, the purchasing power of the British Pound was strong enough—one Pound could buy 100 pounds of black bread in London (about 45 kilograms).

55 Pounds, that was the equivalent of two months of newspaper operation profits for Endry, enough to make him lower his standards.

After hesitating for a while, Endry tentatively countered: "60 Pounds, I must be responsible for the newspaper."

The man in gray smiled faintly and briskly took out 10 Pounds to hand over. Without waiting for Endry to object further, he turned and left.
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