Huge, white, ring-shaped MRI machines are running all the time.

Finally, the red light on the machine went out, the green light turned on, and the machine was still running, but the white mobile bed still moved out of the machine, and on it lay an old white man about sixty years old in a simple patient gown, who slowly sat up from the bed.

Two beautiful, well-built blonde female nurses greeted him, helped the old man put on his slippers, helped him out of the MRI room, and let him sit in a white and soft wheelchair.

Next to the wheelchair was a middle-aged white man in his forties, wearing a crisp suit and glasses, he waved his hand, and the blonde female nurse stepped back, and he pushed the wheelchair and led the old man down the corridor.

At the end of the hallway was a white, glass-walled room, one after another, very high-end looking instruments, and seven or eight doctors in white coats were busy in the room.

One of them, a slightly older grade, in his sixties, looked like a professor, and an old white man in a lab coat was taking a report from a machine, and when he was done, he looked through it.

The wheelchair continued to push into the room, interrupting his flipping through the room.

"Mr. Carnegie." The old man in the white coat put down the report and bowed slightly.

"How's it going?" Sitting in a wheelchair, Mr. John Carnegie, an oil tycoon from the Sevils of Millican, looked up and asked a little weakly.

The old man in the white coat had a deep apology on his face: "I'm sorry, Mr. Carnegie, the report shows that your condition is very bad, the cancer has spread again, and it has ......"

"Fack!" The old white man in the wheelchair, who had a weak face, suddenly let out a huge roar and interrupted the report of the white coat: "Fake! Fack! I've already paid you nearly 1 billion meters of gold, and you even told me that it spread again? With so much money and so many resources, what exactly have you been researching? ”

"We have been working very hard to study ......" the old man in the white coat said faster: "But cancer is a worldwide medical problem, only a small number of cancers can be completely cured, and most of the others can only choose conservative treatment, try to suppress and delay the spread of cancer cells, so that patients can ......"

"Butler ......" The old man in the wheelchair lowered his voice a little: "You are a Nobel laureate, an authority on cancer, I have always trusted you very much, and established this fund, providing more than 120 million meters of research funds every year for you to conduct related research...... I don't want much, the average life expectancy of our people is 78 years old, I'm not greedy, I just want to live to this age, is it difficult? ”

"This ...... This ......" Obviously, such a flat and straightforward tone made Bai Da Coat more frightened than the previous anger, and he opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak.

"Say it......" Mr. Carnegie in a wheelchair closed his eyes, "how long will I live in this situation?" ”

"The most optimistic estimate...... Nobel laureate in medicine, Mr. Butler, bowed his head deeply: "There is almost a year and a half to ......"

"A year and a half?" The old man in the wheelchair let out a chuckle: "Heh, I'm only sixty-four years old, but you tell me that I only have a year and a half to live?" ”

"Yes...... Yes......" The coat continued, "This time the cancer cells have spread very widely, and it has already affected the pancreas......

"Why?" The old man in the wheelchair spoke louder again: "I have been treating according to your instructions!" Take the medicine seven times a day! Get into that damn machine every day! For the sake of efficacy, painkillers are not hit! The last time you told me it was eight years! Why is it only a year and a half now? ”

"The spread of cancer cells is irregular, easy to ......find," the white coat lowered his voice, and his tone trembled: "We didn't expect it to spread so ......"

"There's really no way?" The old man in the wheelchair stared at the life-saving straw in the white coat in front of him, his fingers tightly grasping the armrest of the wheelchair, but his tone was full of pleading.

The lifesaver shook his head with difficulty: "With the current level of medicine...... There's really no way around it......"

Hearing the final verdict, Mr. Carnegie let go of the armrest, as if he had lost all his strength, and his body sank back into the soft wheelchair, his eyes darkened, and his voice was far weaker than before: "Push me out......

……

After changing his clothes, returning home, and being wheeled into his study by the servant, Mr. Carnegie began to look through several reports on his desk.

In any case, before he died, this vast oil empire must still be controlled by him, and he is not at ease about handing it over to his son.

The maid next to him was helping him prepare the potion.

Although the dream of living for another eight years was shattered, he would never give up for the only year and a half left, so when it was time to take medicine, he still had to take medicine.

However, just after taking the pills specially made by the private research institute with the cooperation of the maid, there was a knock on the door of the study, and the secretary with glasses walked in.

He reported, "Mr. Carnegie, Pastor Frank wants to see you. ”

Pastor Frank? What did he come to do?

Mr. Carnegie frowned.

He is not very enthusiastic about religion, but for reasons such as expanding his network and showing his identity, he will go to church several times a year and donate some to show his religious piety.

And after getting sick, in order to seek solace for the soul, I also went to church many times, knelt in front of the cross, and prayed heartily many times.

But, as we all know, God's mercy has not been shown for too long, and no amount of prayer or wish will help his illness.

However, he still liked Pastor Frank, who was very good at comforting people as the presiding officer of a cathedral, and in his depiction of heaven was so beautiful. After talking to him, it was clear that Mr. Carnegie could feel that the fear of death had lessened in his heart.

But that's about it.

He didn't want to see anyone now, he just wanted to take it quietly like this.

So, Mr. Carnegie waved his hand: "Tell him that I am very busy right now and do not have time to see him, but I will arrange for him to pay him the donation for the renovation of the church that I promised him last time, and that's all." ”

The secretary nodded, left the study, and went down to pass the word.

However, after a while, the secretary came up again: "Mr. Carnegie, he still wants to see you." ”

"Why?" Mr. Carnegie frowned.

The secretary paraphrased: "He said, 'God loves the world, and God will save every devout believer.'" ”

What do you mean? Reverent? Save? Another fundraiser?

Frowning and thinking for five seconds, Mr. Carnegie said, "Forget it, let him come up." ”