Chapter 640: Good thing

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White walls, ochre desks, gilt table lamps with dark green shades, and the beautiful marble fireplace opposite. From here, you can see a tall mirror when you look sideways. When you are not calm occasionally, it can be used to objectively examine yourself.
If you need to breathe in the fresh air, it is even simpler-you can open the window next to you and you can see the drizzle and cool sky. This is the most wonderful view of London.
If you have to say something, there are a few emotional oil paintings on the opposite and behind walls, which are actually good.
Of course, the one in the corner must be left out, because no one would want to see a bald guy with eyes and teeth staring at you every day, right?
Here is 10 Downing Street, an old house full of stories.
"Jingle Bell--"
Suddenly a phone ringing broke the once silent room again. To be honest, it's not a good phone. The ringtone always has a rough noise, which sounds strange in my ears. But even if this is the case, after listening for so long, it is time to get used to it.
The man sitting at the table sighed slightly, then grabbed the handset of the phone. He knew that even if he didn't answer, the bell would keep ringing, endlessly.
"Hello, please pay attention to a call around 2pm. The policy team may communicate the latest discussion results and the press office will follow up at the same time. I will then forward the call to you."
"Okay, I know."
With a concise answer, the handset went back to where it was.
Here, efficiency is always the highest priority, and those guys below are like no rest in this life. But while this man complained secretly, he didn't remember that when he was struggling for this chair in the past, why wasn't it a virtue?
The man sighed heavily again, and then flicked all the documents on hand, leaning back against the chair, and made a "creak" sound.
He squeezed his eyelids, took off the eyes on the bridge of his nose, and squeezed between his eyes.
Just last year, too many things happened. Although those incidents ended, the remaining sequelae have not completely disappeared till now. These included multiple headless cases across the UK. Although there were no dead, the wounded and missing people actually existed, and even some unexplained explosions and building collapses.
And these messy events will ultimately be related to him. As long as he is still sitting in this seat, he can't escape the scourge of heaven.
Perhaps many people have seen his scenery, but behind the scenery, it is more endless exhaustion and day and night toil.
Seriously, the man felt that he was really tired.
He was half-lying and leaning back against the chair, feeling the cool wind blowing in from the window. There was a light rain outside now, and Leli banged on the edge of the window, and there was still a slight mist of rain flowing over his forehead, which could just cool the painful brain.
There is still some time before two o'clock in the afternoon. Take a break! Documents can be viewed after the call. Anyway, I definitely need to work overtime tonight, there is no need to be busy now.
But as he took a nap and tried to soothe his tired spirit, a voice suddenly sounded.
"To Prime Minister Muggle," said the voice without warning, spreading in the room. "Ask for a meeting at two in the afternoon, please reply immediately ... you, faithful, Rufus Scrimgeour."
Oh yes! He knows, he knows the guy named Scrimgeour! That's right, calling someone by the strange name of "Mr. Muggle" has only three in total since he took office, and this Scrimgeour has only recently appeared.
You don't need to look at it, the oil painting in the corner behind it started to move by itself-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 the opposite side asked to meet, the result would always be bad. But can he not speak? Try to pretend you are asleep? No, even if he doesn't answer, the other party will come over as soon as the time comes, from the fireplace opposite!
"Ah, uh ..." He cleared his throat and said vaguely. "Two o'clock? No, I had an important call at that time ... yes, very important ... from a president ..."
Please forgive me, there really is a lie here to increase the importance of things, so that may be able to shut that guy up-I hope!
Unfortunately, this lie is obviously meaningless to the person in the picture frame.
"It doesn't matter, you can rearrange it," the portrait replied without hesitation. "If you are not convenient, we can adjust it for you. Mr. President will forget to make this 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 have no sense of disobedience from the other person's mouth, as if they were born by nature-even if they are talking about the president of a country same!
"No, you don't have to ... I'll arrange it myself," the Prime Minister said dryly. "Okay ... oh ... I mean, okay, two o'clock in the afternoon? I'll see Mr. Scrimgeour."
Hearing the Prime Minister's positive response, the portrait stopped moving immediately, and the entire office regained its former tranquility.
The Prime Minister lifted his neck and looked at the clock, and then subconsciously glanced at the fireplace, sighing for a third breath this afternoon.
"Click, click."
He pressed twice on the phone and dialed the secretary's extension number.
"I have an important arrangement at two in the afternoon to postpone the phone of the policy team to three o'clock-no, three thirty: What ... no, that matter is very important, you can just follow the notice I said."
"Crack."
After all, the handset returned to where it was supposed to be, and the phone was hung up by the Prime Minister.
When the last time I met Scrimgeour, the Prime Minister naturally couldn't forget.
It was an emergency meeting. The ugly little man in the portrait had disappeared sometime, and was replaced by the now dark-skinned bald head. It was a cold winter night, yes, the last days of a series of chaos.
Coldly, a thick male voice sounded in the office, startling the Prime Minister who was still working overtime. The moment he promised to meet, the green flames rose in the fireplace, and a man with a stern face came out from the inside like the former Fudge.
That man was Rufus Scrimgeour. According to him, he was the guy who replaced Fudge as the new governor of "that world"-well, maybe a similar identity, who can figure it out?
As soon as he came, he not only immediately told him a lot of bad news, but also frankly, after that, maybe something worse was about to happen, and he was ready for emergency treatment at any time.
Fortunately, the established bad news cannot be erased, but what he called a "worse incident" does not seem to have happened, which is a blessing in misfortune.
However, bad things are bad things after all, and they never become good things. This time he came over, I'm afraid he was going to tell him a bunch of irritating incidents ... No, nothing seems to have happened recently?
Between the prime minister's rude contemplation, half an hour easily turned into the past. When he glanced at a large green burst in the corner of his eye, he quickly sat upright with a squeaking sound.
Before he could raise his hand to a slightly skewed tie, the slightly thin figure immediately strode out of the green flames. I saw the other man lifted his leg across the iron fence in front of the fireplace, patted the strange robe casually, and walked towards the desk.
To be honest, even if he had seen this scene several times, he would still feel a throbbing heart every time he saw it. Of course, as the Prime Minister, he does not lack the determination. No matter how much shock there is in his heart, the calmness on his face will not be lost ...
Well, at most, it's a little bit stiff! I'm serious!
"Prime Minister," Scrimgeour still looked fierce, and after walking quickly to the desk, he immediately stretched out his hand, his face awkwardly smiled, "Good afternoon, very Glad to meet you again. "
"Oh, um ... hello!" The Prime Minister shook hands with him in a hurry, then moved to a back chair in front of the table, "Is there anything ... need me to help you?" "
He really didn't want to say this word ~ ​​EbookFREE.me ~ but he also knew that it would always come. Rather than have an upset stomach when the other party's uncivilized request arrives, it's better to take the initiative to talk.
"Yeah ... that's a long story," Scrimgeour sat down sharply in the chair and took off his hat. "In the second half of this year, we will have a world-class product there. The big thing happened— "
"what!"
The pretended calm face of the Prime Minister couldn't even hold it.
Originally, he was ready to listen to troubles, but the word "world-class" still broke his inner line of defense-world-class troubles? What terrible organization is coming to bomb the Prime Minister's House? Or is a large mushroom crashing to the ground, sparking the spark of life?
"... Huh? Oh ... Relax," Scrimgeour grinned and grinned, but Mr Prime Minister looked sneer at everything, "That big thing is actually a good thing! Great thing!"
"boom!"
Before he said this, there was a flash of light in the distance, scaring our Prime Minister.