Rome, cemetery in the western suburbs.

Carlo Azeglio Ciampi stood in front of a newly built tomb in the cemetery, dressed in a black suit and tie, and solemnly holding a bouquet of white flowers.

On the dark tombstone, a black-and-white photograph hangs with a name written on it.

Jova Nifa Connell!

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

Guilt and regret crossed his heart, if he hadn't given his friend the list of Casio's bribes and crimes, maybe his friend wouldn't have suffered that assassination.

Why?

Why can the mafia run rampant to plant bombs in broad daylight, why can those criminals be so lawless, why, those bastards who take taxpayers' hard-earned money, but unscrupulously become mafia helpers, in turn bully taxpayers.

Rome, the holy city.

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

Is there an axiom in this world?

"Jova. You tell me. Are they wrong, or are we wrong? Or is it the wrong country?"

“......”

The ashes lying in the cemetery could not answer Champpi'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 on the world!"

Standing up and gently patting the dust on his knees, Champi silently read his friend's answer in his heart, and strode out of the cemetery, if he could let the sun shine on this country again, it would be worth the cost.

Seven o'clock in the evening.

The night sank into the earth, and with a gust of autumn wind, it blew the curtain hanging from the door.

Yulia Sidorov and Qina Kanovsky walked in with a step, and the two glanced at Shen Jiannan, who was leaning on the TV to watch TV, and walked over in unison.

On the TV, a tall, burly middle-aged man, waving his fists as if giving a passionate speech, his yellow and white hair stands out in the middle of the magnified screen.

"Oh mma. You bastards, you always want to make big news, don't you? ”

"I recently had an idea to go on a trip to space, would you like to come with me?"

"I'd like to put all of you bastards in rockets and let you go to the sky for a while, so I can be quiet. ”

“......”

Looking at Norman Lamont's account, Kina Kanovski's face was exaggerated with astonishment.

"Oh my God. Is this guy really a chancellor?"

"I feel like he's an idiot, he always says he understands everything, but he doesn't seem to understand anything. Yulia Sidorov took over.

In this regard, Shen Jiannan just smiled.

"In some ways, Lamont is a qualified finance minister, at least, the best finance minister in Britain in 30 years. ”

"Shen. Are you serious? This guy, every time I see him say that he knows the Germans best, the most economics, I wonder if he is the spy we sent. Look, since he took office, he has made a mess of Britain. ”

"Lamont can't really be blamed for this problem, he's a real Englishman. This is at least stronger than many Britons. From supporting Major to join the European Community, Lamont has been working for Britain to gain more initiative. If anything, it's probably ...... He was just a little unlucky. ”

“......”

“......”

Seeing Shen Jiannan sitting there and directing the country, Yulia Sidorov had a deep sense of fascination, even his father just admitted that in terms of wisdom, this guy Shen is already the best in the world.

Taking off her high heels, grabbing the red wine on the table and pouring a glass, Yulia slammed Shen Jiannan's body as if she was drunk, and looked at the eyes that shimmered with wisdom with admiration.

"And what about Champi? Why did he agree to cooperate with us? ”

“......”

Yulia Sidorov laughed coquettishly at her silent answer, and what she liked the most was Shen Jiannan's hooligan attitude that would play tricks at any time, which made her feel a deep satisfaction.

Taking a sip of red wine, Yulia raised her arms and wrapped her arms around Shen Jiannan's neck, raised her white neck and brought her red lips to the big mouth that was close at hand. The four lip flaps were intertwined, and as a cold liquid flowed into his throat, Shen Jiannan's throat squirmed, and the dryness caused by what he had just said suddenly disappeared.

"Nifa Connell's death has made the Italians deeply enraged and want to change the status quo in Italy, and this is undoubtedly a good opportunity. But the Catholic Democratic Party has a close relationship with the mafia, and is on the same page as a grassroots guy like Ciampi, and the Socialist Party is the most corrupt official. ”

He had no choice, unless, he didn't want to change the situation, unless, he watched his friend die in vain. ”

“......”

The Proms, founded by Sir Henry Wood in 1895, aims to present the most diverse music and attract a wider audience with first-class music.

As one of the most popular classical music concerts in the world, it is loved by the British people, and as a true Englishman, Norman Lamont is as much of a concert as the average person.

At eight o'clock in the evening, invited by BBC television, Lamont appeared at the concert on time.

The vast auditorium was filled with audiences, and Lamont, as a guest, stood on the stage as a guest of honor, as the classical music was composed.

A pair of curious, adoring, admiring, and admiring eyes looked at him, and the cheers and greetings and flying kisses made him raise his chest and wave his fist.

"I love the last night. It is a great honor to be here at this concert and thank you all for your support!"

"Mr. Lamont. I don't know what kind of song you want to sing?"

What song to sing?

Lamont had already thought about it.

Italy, a second-rate country, has fulfilled its mission, with the collapse of the lira, the Bundesbank has cut interest rates as he expected, and the crisis of the depreciation of the pound has been eliminated and, in general, will become stronger. At this time, how to express your greatness without singing a passionate song.

Holding the microphone, Lamont shook his fist.

"Oh. At this unique time, at this exciting time, at this most glorious moment for our Britain, I feel that there is nothing more suitable for the current atmosphere than the naval anthem. ”

"Mr. Lamont. Are you going to sing the naval anthem?"

"Of course. ”

“When Britain first， at Heaven's command

Arose from out the azure main;

This was the charter of the land，

And guardian angels sang this strain:

“Rule， Britannia! rule the waves:

“Britons never will be slaves.“

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