Chapter 343: Protest

A little earlier.

The victims of the fire in the South Bank Industrial Zone, the factory owners who lost their industries for no reason, watched helplessly as the surviving factories still standing on the burned ruins rumbled around the clock, producing a large number of fresh and hot goods to take away the orders and money that should have belonged to them.

Taking money from others is tantamount to killing their parents.

The factory owners who had repeatedly asked Scotland Yard to give the results of the fire investigation but did not get any follow-up were getting more and more angry.

So at a gathering of victims, under the moving speech of a victim whose face was difficult to recall, they decided to unite and march in protest.

They demanded that the industrial factory owners who were still standing on the ruins, or the British government, or any other person who took the blame... In short, a culprit must be found to compensate for their losses, their equipment costs, lost wages and workers' pensions.

What? You said that this was most likely caused by our failure to pay attention to safety regulations. If we had paid attention to fire prevention and damage prevention, this would definitely not have happened.

"Yes, as long as we take precautions, the fire will not spread as badly as the night before yesterday - ah, don't hit me in the face!!!"

The person who made this statement was beaten up by the angry victims before he could finish his words. He was beaten up and bruised, and he never dared to say such cowardly words again.

The factory owners called together the employees who lost their jobs, relatives and friends of the victims who died in the fire, and united into a large team of hundreds of people. They resolutely held up a series of eye-catching slogans such as "Give me back my job", "Expose the truth of the fire", "Down with the evil aristocracy", and "Blood debts paid with blood", and marched towards the city center like an indestructible team.

This passionate parade team shouted touching words along the way, attracting the attention of many passers-by, and some of the words obviously touched some citizens who felt the same way.

Especially some young people who have nothing to do after eating, their blood vessels are full of male hormones that have nowhere to go, and they are worried that the numb labor life every day is really boring.

Seeing this group of passionate marchers holding banners and slogans and shouting words of establishing a government, especially seeing the ladies dressed up in the team, the passionate young people resolutely threw themselves into this enthusiastic march and protest.

But in fact, these ladies holding up placards such as "Prostitutes' lives are lives too!" "We need the truth!" "When can the Ripper be arrested? ! ! ! "Is London still safe? ! ! ! " "East London is also London!" are not victims of the South Bank Industrial Zone fire, but potential victims of another horrific case.

They are all prostitutes who sell their bodies near the Whitechapel area in East London.

Due to the recent series of Ripper cases - because the terrible murderer prefers to disembowel prostitutes, the frightened residents in the Whitechapel area now call this person the Ripper.

As of this morning, six sisters have been killed by the Ripper. The horrific sight of the sixth body found in the muddy alley this morning has deeply pierced the hearts of the people in the Whitechapel area.

Any prostitute who witnessed the murder scene could not help but think of the scene of her own disembowelment. They were so scared that their legs went weak and trembled, as if there was a fishy, ​​smelly and hot liquid flowing down their skirts.

This group of flesh workers gathered together privately and discussed in a low voice.

"Fuck, this pervert... every time he arranges the victim's body to look like Saint Mary with her belly ripped open... is he mocking us? Don't we want to be chaste women? Don't we want to stay at home and take care of our husbands and children? Are we willing to sell our bodies to those dirty guys?!!!"

"Hey~ If it's not for survival, which woman is willing to sell her dignity?"

"Alas... If it weren't for my little Connor, I wouldn't want to do this job... Maybe I would have jumped into the Thames to end this painful life..."

"No, we can't continue If we continue to stay in this place...if we stay any longer, maybe the next victim will be one of us."

"Should we run away? Should we go to other areas to work? I heard that the pub in the next area is doing well and needs people like us to solve the problems of drunken guests."

"Good idea, shall we all go together?"

"Okay! Since the Whitechapel area is so dangerous, why don't we all go to other places to work...so that no more sisters will be sacrificed."

This suggestion was agreed by all the ladies, and they were determined to evacuate the dangerous Whitechapel area collectively and stay away from the cruel Ripper.

However, at this time, a sister who had joined in at some point poured cold water on them, "But if we all leave the Whitechapel area, the Ripper will no longer be able to find a suitable target for crime, and will he directly move his target to other areas...won't we be in danger as well? And the Ripper is very likely to follow us. If we set out in a group now, wouldn't it be more convenient for him to kill us all at once? ? ? "

"The most important thing is that although you sisters can go to work elsewhere, don't your families all live near Whitechapel? So as long as we still live here, we will definitely not be able to avoid the danger of being attacked by the Ripper! "

This basin of cold water was poured on the heads of this group of miserable women who had just regained hope, making their faces once again covered with a thick layer of gloom and sorrow.

An angry woman questioned, "Then what do you think we should do? No matter where we go to work, we will never escape the danger of being disemboweled?!!"

The sister, whose face and experience were slightly blurry in the memories of the prostitutes, smiled as charming and sweet as ever, and suggested: "Why don't we hold a march to protest against Scotland Yard? Ask them to immediately increase their investigation and patrols. At least the police should be arranged to patrol near Whitechapel at night, so that we can all be safer when we come back in the morning."

This whimsical idea was ridiculed by other prostitutes on the spot. They all laughed and asked this sister, have you forgotten who we are? We are not aristocratic ladies in London, we are just prostitutes living at the bottom of London society!

We are few in number and our demonstrations and protests have no power. How can the gentlemen of Scotland Yard listen to us? !