Eight Hundred and Ninety Serious
The weather in Ireland Hill is already very cold, and there has been a light snowfall in Serris City, which is relatively north.
For the residents of the Magic Continent, they have never experienced such a warm winter: the residents of the city did not even feel the biting cold that they remembered.
The towering buildings, like thick city walls, kept the cold out of the city, and the first snow on the streets had long been crushed into black mud by countless wheels.
On the asphalt road, cars are still coming and going, and pedestrians are wearing colorful fashions, showing the bustling and hustle and bustle of this city to the world.
At both ends of the street, neon lights are flickering, squandering the surplus electricity to their heart's content. The energy that is still in short supply in other places seems to have reached an incalculable amount in this city.
Even the Mansgar Mingshi cars, which are rare in Serris City, galloped on the spacious main road with three cars in a row, attracting passers-by to stop and watch.
This scene is rare to see, there must be some important person traveling by car to have such a spectacular scene.
In the capital of the empire, there is no shortage of knowledgeable experts. A policeman on the side of the road saw the license plate hanging on the front of the car passing by, and immediately stood at attention and saluted.
The license plate starting with alxr-1 represents the car of the most senior official of the imperial government. Under normal circumstances, the person who can get the license plate starting with alxr-1 is at least a senior official at the ministerial level.
And the license plate alxr-10001 is used by the prime minister of the empire. This license plate represents endless glory and supreme power.
Des, who was sitting in the car, had a more gloomy expression on his face. He just got the news that Mr. Gurlo's hand was already showing signs of a stroke, and he began to tremble.
This is not a good phenomenon, at least it shows one problem, Mr. Gurlo's condition is developing in the direction of aggravation.
So, after hearing the news, Des put down his work and immediately rushed to Gurlo's mansion to visit the Minister of Economy of the Empire.
It wasn't a good day for Des. He looked at the flickering neon lights outside the window, at those luxurious nobles going in and out of the resplendent entertainment venues, and he didn't know what he was thinking.
He just felt that he was very irritable, and he was so irritable that he wanted to find some unlucky ghost to vent. It's a pity that he is the prime minister of the empire, and he can no longer rely on his own emotions to decide the direction of a matter.
Along the way, he has been conscientious and conscientious, and has long forgotten the original goal of making the Long Taite family the richest man in the world.
As the first minister of the Alan Hill Empire, what he has in mind now is the entire universe, the inexhaustible wealth of the entire universe!
...
In the sky battleship flying smoothly, Chris hadn't slept yet. His mental strength can ensure that he will not sleep for several days, but this state of no rest will also hurt his body.
Therefore, the royal family's personal team of doctors does not recommend that Chris stay up late or work for several days in a row. The emperor's life must be regular, which is also for the stability of the entire empire.
The desk lamp beside his bed was on, and he was holding a memorial that had just been delivered not long ago. This memorial was copied by Wagron, and what was handed over to Chris was a deliberately printed paper.
Chris loves paper products because he has so many "images" in his head, and he prefers the feeling of paper in his hand.
"You can try..." He picked up the pen next to the pillow, wrote four words on the memorial, and then looked at the door of his room.
Luther knocked lightly on the door of Chris's room, and then pushed the door open with permission. He walked gently to Chris's bed, lowered his head and reported softly: "Your Majesty, the news just came that Mr. Gurlo is seriously ill..."
"What's going on?" Chris frowned, and the little sleepiness that had just come up suddenly disappeared, and he asked with some dissatisfaction.
"I heard that it was caused by a slight intracranial hemorrhage... His consciousness is still very clear, but his hands are shaking all the time." Luther reported according to the facts.
"What do those doctors do?" Chris didn't know whether he was scolding, or he was asking, "Didn't you ask you to find the best doctor?"
"The best doctor in the Alan Hill Empire, except for the medical team that accompanied you on a visit, the rest are already with Mr. Gurlo." Luther explained with some embarrassment.
This kind of intracranial hemorrhage is not easy to treat, and Mr. Gurlo's body is not suitable for craniotomy. In this case, the effect of conservative treatment can only be described as mediocre.
The human body is inherently complex and fragile. Naturally, doctors cannot be blamed for this kind of thing.
What annoys Chris is that some people smoke and drink and do everything, and they can live a long life, but his important minister, Mr. Gurlo, who doesn't smoke or drink, ended up suffering from the most difficult disease for no reason. Cerebral hemorrhage...
"The old man's body is very fragile. The tide of magical energy did not strengthen his physique, but caused problems with his already aging body..." Luther comforted: "The doctors are consulting, and they will find a way of."
"Let the magic department, the research institute, and the medical department think of a way! So many technologies, so many experts, how can there be no way at all?" Chris ordered: "Especially the magic department, tell William, this It's an order!"
"Yes! Your Majesty!" Luther bowed slightly, and persuaded, "The fleet can return to Serris tomorrow morning. Your Majesty should take a rest."
"I see." Chris waved his hand, indicating that Luther could go out: "Send this memorial to the secretariat, and let them send it to Wagron!"
"Okay." Luther took the paper memorial and exited Chris' room. Chris, who had finished processing all the memorials, lay on his bed, looked at the ceiling made of steel, and reached out to turn off the bedside lamp.
Even the room where the emperor lives, the decoration can only be described as ordinary. This is a real warship, everything inside is ready for war.
Chris's room is an independent space protected by a special steel plate. Even if the sky battleship is sunk, this independent space can protect Chris from harm with a high probability.
In the dark night, only huge black shadows remained in the entire sky fleet, and the various lights above these shadows echoed each other, twinkling like stars.
In the distant night sky, a long shining bridge divides the sky. That is the ring of Alan Siris, the most charming scenery in the sky.