The second volume is full of glory and splendor in the capital, and the spirit is full of energy in the foggy city. Chapter 220 I, the Holy Grail (End)
Subtitle of this chapter: The SCP Foundation's various aspects
“Clatter…”
“Huff, huff, huff…”
The warm current not only keeps New York's annual average temperature above 10 degrees Celsius, but also brings an annual rainfall of 1,000 mm, with as many as 123 days of rain, accounting for one-third of the year.
So it’s not surprising that it rains in New York. What is surprising is that an inexplicable rain suddenly fell at the end of April, when it rarely rains.
In addition to the rain, there were gusts of unknown wind blowing from nowhere. The evil wind with uncertain direction and mixed with cold rain made people feel cold in their bodies and hearts.
This couldn't help but make the guests from the East have an inexplicable feeling of "harmony between heaven and man"... Perhaps God was also crying for a peerless genius who was about to die young.
"Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel, you can see there are so many people in front of us. Our car can't get through."
Yoshisaburo Nomura and Isoroku Yamamoto knew that what the driver said was right. They also saw that a large crowd of people had gathered downstairs of the luxurious apartment where Yuan Yanshu lived. Of course, most of them were reporters.
The two looked at each other, and had no choice but to get out of the car, open their umbrellas, and squeeze into the crowd.
"Look, here come two Chinese people!"
These white reporters naturally didn't know that the people who came were Japanese and not Seres. When they saw the two yellow faces, they immediately surrounded them and asked in a flurry:
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Yuan's friends?"
"Excuse me, do you know how serious his condition is?"
"Is he really dead?"
If these two "maritime men" had not spent a long time on ships and had a relatively stable lower body, coupled with their short stature and low center of gravity, they would have been squeezed down by the swarm of reporters.
“No comment!”
“No comment!”
“No comment!”
The two of them exchanged the most common phrases used by diplomats and finally struggled to the door of the apartment. But now it was like they were facing a great enemy. Not only were the doormen and managers of the apartment all dispatched, but there were also several NYPD patrolmen, and even Yuan Yanshu's driver was standing at the door.
They worked together to set up a roadblock.
Yamamoto Isoroku, who had met Xiaokang several times, took a step forward and shouted across the roadblock: "Driver, do you remember me? I am..."
"I remember Mr. Yamamoto from Japan." Kang Erduo nodded with a sad face and said to the two sides: "These two are Mr. Yuan's Japanese friends. Please let them in."
In this way, the two Japanese were let in, and the reporters who followed them were still kept out.
As soon as Ba Maoqian came in, he asked anxiously, "Mr. Driver, how is Mr. Yuan?"
Xiaokang shook his head with a painful expression and said, "Sir, you're not feeling well..."
Nomura Kichisaburo couldn't help but ask curiously, "Why is this happening? I remember Mr. Yuan was fine a few days ago and even gave a speech in Princeton. How could he suddenly..."
"Gentlemen, he is here for..." Kang Erduo hesitated and swallowed the second half of his words, "You should go upstairs first. If the gentleman wakes up, he will see you. I won't see you off."
"Thank you very much. Please do as you please."
The two Neon Golds looked at each other with strange expressions.
One reason was, of course, suspicion. How could a healthy person suddenly collapse? Although tuberculosis was considered a terminal illness, it was a chronic disease after all, and it wouldn't kill the patient instantly.
Secondly, it is indeed a pity. No matter what, Yuan Jun is the light of Greater East Asia, giving face to the yellow race, and he is really talented. Even if they are Japanese, they still think it is a pity that this Chinese man died like this.
The third one, however, was secretly delighted. After all, they were Japanese, and intelligent and knowledgeable. They always felt that having a Chinese person as outstanding as Yuan Jun would be a blessing or a curse for their Great Japanese Empire. Going to Kudanzaka like this might not be a bad thing; at least it would reduce many variables.
With such complicated feelings, the two got on the elevator and arrived at the floor of Yuan's apartment.
“Tap, tap, tap.”
"You are..." It was naturally Sister Lian who opened the door. She identified you two and said, "I remember you two are Japanese gentlemen. Please come in..."
The two neon golds followed the cook into the living room and immediately found themselves walking into a huge cloud of gloom, a cloud of gloom filled with a strong and pungent smell of disinfectant.
There were quite a lot of people in the room at this time. If the living room wasn't big enough, it wouldn't be able to accommodate so many people.
They knew several of them, such as the grandson of the president of New York Life Insurance Company, the daughter of the president of New York University Press, the grandson of the "Wall Street Miracle", and the daughter of the editor-in-chief of Le Monde.
After meeting these people, they both began to admire Yuan Yanshu. His network of contacts was really deep...
Well, this connection is still not deep enough. Because although these rich second-generations also looked worried, they were the four calmest people present.
What they didn't know was that these Major Arcana seemed so relaxed because the clever "Emperor" had figured out a little bit of the situation and secretly told his three closest friends, so they were not as desperate as others.
Speaking of despair, it's like Mr. Ai Shuoyi standing alone in front of the fireplace and sighing.
Among the members of the SCP Foundation, "Mr. Magician" has truly benefited a lot from "Mr. Fool".
In the original timeline, he was an unsuccessful loser until his death. If it weren't for the fact that the Cthulhu mythology had a bit of postmodern flavor and suited the appetite of postmodern humans, thus becoming , who would know who he was.
And in this timeline, because of Master Yuan's "appreciation", he jumped from a dependent living with his aunts to a successful person with a high income, which naturally made him very grateful to the Chinese man.
Besides, when it comes to horror novels, they are close friends. That's why the craftsman looks so devastated.
Not far from this melon-faced man, two tall men were discussing something.
One of them is naturally Mr. 10 of Swords, and the other old man is even taller than him, and is the true "Lord of the Tower".
However, the great inventor did not seem to be very sad. Instead, he asked with great interest, "Mr. Aiden, are you telling the truth?"
General ZOD, still unshaven and looking exhausted, frowned and said impatiently, "Mr. Tesla, of course it's true. I saw it with my own eyes. At that time..."
He suddenly realized that two strange short guys were staring at them, so he immediately stopped talking. With his eyes narrowed, he nodded ferociously at Neon Gold.
Nomura and Yamamoto had no choice but to bow awkwardly in return and turn their attention elsewhere.
The three people on the other side were the strangest presences in the room. The one who looked like the mother was horribly thin, like a skeleton wrapped in skin. If she hadn't been in good spirits, Nomura and Yamamoto would have thought she was the one dying.
She clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and moved her lips constantly, as if praying devoutly.
Sitting at her feet were two adorable teenagers, presumably their son and daughter. However, the two children, seemingly sensing the heavy atmosphere, defied their instincts and sat obediently, even following their mother in prayer.
As for whether Jehovah and Mary of the Catholic Church will bless Yuan Yanshu who worships Guan Erye and Mazu , only they themselves know.
If the two children didn't have any Asian features and were a little older, the two Japanese people would have thought they were Master Yuan's illegitimate children.
There were four young Seres men sitting around the coffee table, discussing something intensely. Nomura Kichisaburo, whose Chinese was quite good, heard them say:
Camel Xiangzi said with a gloomy face, "Mr. Huang, it's like seeing a big-headed ghost in broad daylight! How can Old Yuan be sick just like that?!"
The Six-Fingered Lute Demon didn't know who he was angry with, and angrily said, "I'm going to piss him off! How could someone who was still full of life the day before yesterday now have tuberculosis?!"
"Damn it, What's Fxcking Up?" Perhaps because he has been teaching mahjong to foreigners for a while, Xiao Yang Shengjian's English has become more and more fluent, especially his ability to use swear words skillfully.
Huang Zongyi also said with a bitter and confused look on his face: "My three brothers, I really don't know. The night before last, my uncle said he was going to Maine and asked me to go back to New York to find him, but when I came back, he..."
He glanced at the tightly closed bedroom door and sighed deeply.
"Hey!" Luo Puxiang suddenly slapped his forehead, his expression first became clear and then he laughed ecstatically.
"Hahahaha... Hehehe... Hahaha..." Then he smiled and said to the other three people: "Brothers, do you still remember what Lao Yuan said to us that night..."
