Rome, western suburbs cemetery.

Carlo Azelio Ciampi was wearing a black suit and a black tie, and solemnly holding a bouquet of white flowers, standing in front of a newly built grave in the cemetery.

A black and white photo was hung on the dark tombstone, with a name written on it.

Giova Nifaconel!

Looking at the familiar face on the tombstone, Qianpi silently squatted down and placed the flowers on the altar. He opened his mouth several times, but he didn't know what to say.

Self-blame and regret passed by. If he hadn't handed over the list of bribery and crimes of the Casio family to his friend, perhaps his friend would not have encountered that assassination.

Why?

Why can the mafia be rampant so much that it is placed in broad daylight? Why can those criminals be so lawless? Why can those bastards who hold taxpayers’ hard-earned money become helpers of the mafia and bully taxpayers in turn.

Rome, the holy city.

But in such a sacred place, why is sin more rampant than in other countries?

Is there any axiom in this world?

"Jova. Tell me. Is it they were wrong, or we were wrong, or is it the country wrong?"

“…”

The ashes lying in the cemetery were impossible to answer Qianpi's doubts, but looking at the familiar smiling face, he seemed to hear a familiar voice.

"We are right! No matter how dark the sky is, the sun will eventually break through the dark clouds and shine in the world!"

He stood up and gently patted the dust on his knees. Qian Pi silently recited his friend's answer in his heart, and took big steps out of the cemetery. If the sun could shine in this country again, it would be worth it no matter what the price was paid.

It's seven o'clock in the evening.

The night fell to the ground, and with a gust of autumn wind swept, blew the curtains hanging on the door.

Yulia Sidorov and Qina Kanoski walked in with a step. The two looked at Shen Jiannan who was leaning against the TV watching TV, and looked at each other and walked over.

On the TV, a tall and burly middle-aged man was waving his fists as if he was giving a passionate speech. His yellow and white hair looked particularly eye-catching in the middle of the enlarged screen.

"Oh, you bastards always want to make big news, right?"

"I recently had an idea to travel to space. Do you want to go with me?"

"I really want to stuff all of you bastards into the Rockets and let you visit the sky for a while so that I can calm me down."

“…”

Looking at Norman Lamont's story on the TV, Qina Kanoski showed an exaggerated look of astonishment on his face.

"God. Is this guy really a Chancellor of the Exchequer?"

"I feel like he is an idiot. He always says he knows everything, but he doesn't seem to understand anything." Yulia Sidorov took over and said.

Shen Jiannan just smiled at this.

"In fact, in some ways, Lamont is a qualified Treasury Secretary, at least, the most powerful Treasury Secretary in the UK in thirty years."

"Shen. Are you serious? Every time I see this guy, he understands Germans best and economics best, I doubt whether he is a spy we sent. Look, since he took office, he has made Britain a mess."

"In fact, Lamont cannot be blamed for this issue. He is a real British man. This is at least stronger than many British people. Since supporting Major to join the European Community, Lamont has been working hard to gain more initiative in Britain. If you have to say something, probably... he is just a little unlucky."

“…”

“…”

Seeing Shen Jiannan sitting there and giving advice, Yulia Sidorov felt deeply intoxicated. Even his father had just admitted that in terms of wisdom, this guy Chen was already the best in the world.

Taking off his high heels, grabbing the red wine on the table and pouring a glass of it. Yulia sprained Shen Jiannan's body as if she was drunk, and looked at the eyes that were shining with wisdom.

"What about money? Why did he agree to cooperate with us?"

“…”

The silent answer made Yulia Sidorov laugh charmingly. What she liked the most was Shen Jiannan, a hooligan attitude that would be cheating at any time, which gave her a deep satisfaction.

After taking a sip of red wine, Yulia raised her arms and wrapped herself around Shen Jiannan's neck, raised her fair neck and brought her red lips to the big mouth that was close to her. The four lips were intertwined, and as a stream of cold liquid flowed into her throat, Shen Jiannan's throat wriggled, and the dryness caused by her just now disappeared.

"Nifakonel's death has caused the Italians to be deeply enraged. It is undoubtedly a good opportunity to change the status quo in Italy. But the Catholic Democratic Party and the Mafia are closely related to it, and they are in the same position as the grassroots guy like Monkey. The Socialist Party is the biggest corrupt official."

"He has no choice, unless he doesn't want to change the status quo unless he watches his friend die in vain."

“…”

The Promise, founded by Sir Henry Wood in 1895, is aimed at presenting the most diverse music and attracting more audiences with first-class music.

As one of the most popular classical concerts in the world, it is loved by the British. As a true British man, Norman Lamont likes this concert very much like the ordinary people.

At 8 o'clock in the evening, at the invitation of BBC TV station, Lamont appeared at the concert on time.

The vast auditorium was filled with audiences. With the classical and exciting music scores, Lamont, who was a guest, stood on the stage.

The pair of curious, admiring, and admiring eyes looked at themselves, cheering, greetings and blowing kisses made him lift his chest and wave his fist.

"I love my last night of happiness. I am very honored to attend this concert. Thank you for your support!"

"Mr. Lamont. I wonder what kind of song you want to sing?"

What song should I sing?

Lamont had already thought about it.

Italy, a second-rate country, has completed his mission. With the collapse of the lira, the German central bank has cut interest rates as he expected. The depreciation crisis of the pound has been eliminated and will become stronger.

All of this is because of one's own wisdom, because one's own knowledge of the economy and the Germans.

At this time, how to express your greatness without singing a passionate music.

Holding the microphone, Lamont waved his fist.

"Oh. In this unique moment, in this exciting moment, in this most glorious moment in our UK, I think there is no more suitable for the atmosphere now than the Navy Song."

"Mr. Lamont. Are you going to sing a naval military song?"

"Of course. Long live Great Britain!"????

Waving his fists, Lamont roared.

“when        britain        first,        at        heaven's        and

arose        from        out        the        azure        main;

this        was        the        charter        of        the        land,

and        guardiahis        strain:

“rule, britahe          waves:

“britons        never        will        be        slaves.“
Chapter completed!