Chapter 641

White walls, crimson desks, gilt lamps with dark green lampshades, and the beautiful marble fireplace opposite. From here, you can see a tall mirror. When you are not calm occasionally, it can be used to objectively examine yourself.

If you need a breath of fresh air, it's even simpler - push open the next window and you can see the drizzle and cool sky. This is the most beautiful scenery in London.

If you have to say, on the wall opposite and behind, there are several emotional oil paintings, which are actually good.

Of course, you have to get rid of the one in the corner, because it's estimated that no one will want to see a bald guy staring at you with only eyes and teeth every day, don't you think?

This is 10 Downing Street, an old house full of stories.

"Jingling bell -"

Suddenly a burst of telephone ringing broke the already silent room again. To be honest, it's not a good phone. The bell always makes some rough noise. It's uncomfortable to listen to it. But that's OK. I've heard it for so long, and I should get used to it.

The man sitting at the table sighed slightly, and then grabbed the receiver of the phone. He knew that even if he didn't answer, the bell would go on forever.

"Hello, please pay attention to a call around 2 pm. The policy group may convey the latest discussion results, and the press office will follow up at the same time. I will transfer the call to you at that time."

"OK, I see."

With a simple and clear answer, the receiver returns to its original place again.

Here, efficiency is always the top priority. The guys below seem to have no need to rest in their life. But the man complained secretly, but he didn't remember that it was not a virtue when he was still struggling for this chair in the past?

The man sighed again, then pulled aside all the documents and papers at hand, and leaned back heavily on the back of the chair, making a "creak" sound.

He drooped his eyelids, took off his eyes on the bridge of his nose and squeezed them between his eyes.

In last year's year, too many things happened. Although those events were over, the remaining sequelae have not completely dissipated until now. These include many headless cases all over Britain. Although there are no dead, the injured and missing people actually exist, and even some unexplained explosions and building collapses.

In the final analysis, these messy events will be involved with him. As long as he still sits in this seat, he can't escape the disaster of heaven.

Perhaps many people have seen his scenery, but behind the scenery, there is more endless fatigue and toil day and night.

Seriously, the man felt that he was really tired.

He was half lying and half sitting on the back of his chair, feeling the cool wind blowing in from the window. At present, it is raining outside. It is beating the window edge. Vaguely, there is a little misty rain flowing across his forehead, which can just cool the swollen skull.

It's still some time before two o'clock in the afternoon. Take a break! The document can be read after the phone call. Anyway, I definitely need to work overtime here tonight. There's no need to keep busy now.

But just as he took a nap and tried to soothe his tired spirit, a voice suddenly rang.

"To the Muggle prime minister," the voice spread across the room without warning, "ask for a meeting at two o'clock in the afternoon. Please reply immediately... Your faithful, Rufus scrimger."

Oh - yes! He knows, he knows the scrimger guy! Yes, there are only three people who call others by the strange name of "Muggle Prime Minister", and this skinger is the only one that has appeared recently.

Needless to say, the oil painting in the back corner began to move by itself again - what a hell!

Of course, he certainly didn't want to respond, not at all. Because he knew that every time the portrait began to speak and every time he asked for a meeting, the result would always be bad. But can he not speak? Trying to pretend you're asleep? No, even if he doesn't answer, the other party will still come as soon as time comes, from the damn fireplace opposite!

"Cough, um..." he cleared his throat and said vaguely, "two o'clock? No, I had an important phone call at that time... Yes, very important... It was from a president..."

God forgive me, it really needs a lie to raise the importance of things, so that maybe we can shut the guy up - I hope!

Unfortunately, for the man in the picture frame, this lie is obviously meaningless.

"It doesn't matter. You can rearrange it," the portrait replied without any hesitation. "If it's inconvenient for you, we can adjust it for you. Mr. President will forget to call... What do you think of tomorrow morning?"

This is certainly not what he wants to hear, but somehow, he just feels that these words don't have any sense of conflict from each other's mouth, as if they were born - even if they are talking about the president of a country!

"No, no... I'll arrange it myself," said the prime minister dryly. "OK... Oh... I mean, OK, two o'clock in the afternoon? I'll see Mr. scrimger."

Hearing the prime minister's positive reply, the portrait stopped moving immediately, and the whole office was quiet again.

The prime minister raised his neck, looked at the clock, subconsciously glanced at the fireplace and sighed his third breath this afternoon.

"Click, click."

He pressed twice on the phone and dialed the Secretary's internal number.

"At two o'clock in the afternoon, I have important arrangements to postpone the call of the policy group to three o'clock - no, three thirty! What... No, it's very important. Just let me know."

"Click."

After that, the receiver returned to its place again, and the phone was hung up by the prime minister.

The prime minister can't forget when he last met slinger.

It was an emergency meeting. The ugly little man in the portrait disappeared and was replaced by the black skinned bald head. It was a cold winter night. Yes, it was the last few days of a series of chaotic events.

Cold, a thick male voice sounded in the office, startling the prime minister who was still working overtime. At the moment when he just promised to meet, the green flame in the fireplace suddenly rose, and a straight faced man came out like fudge before.

That man is Rufus slinger. According to his own introduction, he is the guy who replaced fudge as the new ruler of the "that world" - well, maybe a similar identity and position. Who knows?

When he arrived, he not only told him a lot of bad news immediately, but also admitted that something worse might happen later, so that he could be ready for emergency treatment at any time.

However, fortunately, the established bad news can not be erased, but his so-called "worse event" seems to have not happened, which is a blessing in misfortune.

However, bad things are bad things after all and will not become good things. I'm afraid when he comes here this time, he will tell him the reason for a lot of numbing Events... No, it seems that no major events have happened recently?

Just between the prime minister's hesitation, half an hour easily turned into the past. When he caught a glimpse of a large area of green rising from the corner of his eyes, with a light sound of "bang", he quickly sat up straight.

Before he could raise his hand and straighten his slightly skewed tie, the slightly thin figure immediately strode out of the green flame. I saw the other party raise his legs, step over the iron fence in front of the fireplace, casually pat his strange robe, and then walk straight towards the desk.

To tell the truth, even though he had seen this scene several times, he still felt a burst of panic every time he saw it. Of course, as prime minister, he is not lack of concentration. No matter how much vibration there is in his heart, his calm on his face will not be lost

Well, it's just a little stiff at most! I mean it!

"Prime minister," said scrimgeor, who was still in a hot mood. After walking quickly to his desk, he immediately stretched out his hand and squeezed out an awkward smile on his face, "good afternoon. I'm glad to meet you again."

"Oh, um... Hello!" the prime minister shook hands with him hurriedly, then made a gesture of invitation to a back chair in front of the table, "is there anything... Can I help you?"

He really didn't want to say this, but he also knew that what should come would come. Instead of being upset by the other party's rude request, it's better to take the initiative to speak.

"Yes... It's a long story," scrimger simply sat down in his chair and took off his hat. "In the second half of this year, a world-class event will happen over there --"

"What!"

The prime minister's feigned calm face could not be tensed.

Originally, he was ready to listen to troubles, but the word "world-class" broke through his inner defense line - world-class troubles? What deadly organization is coming to bomb the prime minister's office? Or did a big mushroom crash to the ground and bloom the spark of life?

"... huh? Oh... Relax," scrimger grinned, but the prime minister looked like a sneer. "That big event is actually a good thing! It's a great good thing!"

"Boom!"

Before he said this, a flash of fire suddenly flashed in the distance, frightening our prime minister.