Chamberlain struggled to climb out of the wreckage of the car, and he found a church not far away.

There is no end to it, the church will have simple medical facilities, and the priests and nuns have some first aid training, so if you succeed in going to the church and asking for help, you will definitely survive.

Chamberlain would not allow himself to hang up in such a place, he had climbed to the position of prime minister, and then he would be able to gain power comparable to that of old Pete if he married the queen and any of the children of any noble family in his small group.

When the old Pitt deceived the Indian god who longed for Western civilization, and then poisoned the old Indian god with the support of the Indian god, provoked the Indian princes to split the civil war, let his East India Company take the opportunity to make profits, and finally laid the foundation of the British Empire in India.

Chamberlain dreamed of emulating old Pete.

Now, it looks like he's one step away from that goal.

How could he die at such a time?

After crawling a few steps on the ground, Chamberlain struggled to his feet, covering his wound with one hand and holding on to the stone wall by the side of the road with the other, moving little by little towards the church.

Some people around looked at Chamberlain curiously, but most of them looked at it a few times and looked away without looking back.

After all, this is Swan Lane Lane, one of the most chaotic neighborhoods next to the River Thames. Chamberlain never knew the situation in the neighborhood firsthand, but he heard from the small businessmen who ran the business when he played bridge at the club that several corpses sank into the Thames every day in the neighborhood. Especially the smoke houses near the Thames, where people who smoke to death are brought out almost every day.

The little merchant also said that there was no justice at all, that robbery and murder were justified, and that any well-dressed and beautiful woman who appeared alone in the neighborhood would be stripped naked the next day.

Chamberlain didn't believe that there was such a dark and lawless place in London, but he later told him that the body of this small businessman was in Black Duck Lane, not far from Swan Gate Alley, with his clothes stripped and his lower body slashed several times.

From that moment Chamberlain knew that England, the country of gentlemen, could still have such a barbaric place.

Chamberlain moved and looked nervously at the onlookers.

These people are all bad guys, they must be thinking of taking advantage of the fire, the woman over there with patches on her dress must be the one who helps the robbers sell the stolen goods, judging by her strong size, she must have been doing illegal things, and her calloused hands must have been because she was playing with knives too much.

At this moment, Chamberlain would never follow the normal train of thought, thinking that calluses are because he has worked in a textile factory for a long time, and his strong physique is because he can't earn enough money even if he works in a textile factory all day, so he must go to the dock to help unload goods to earn piece-rate wages.

Chamberlain was still a dozen steps away from the church.

At this time, someone behind him asked, "Sir, do you need help?" ”

Chamberlain gritted his teeth, turned around sharply, and pulled out the small pistol in the inner pocket of his jacket with the hand that had been holding the wound in his abdomen. This is a small self-defense pistol that is very popular among the aristocracy, with only two bullets in two barrels, and it can only serve as a purely psychological comfort. Chamberlain now held the gun tightly and pointed it at the young man who was about to approach him.

"Don't come here!"

It seemed to Chamberlain that the young man must have had a bad intentions, and he thought that the young man looked like a loaf, and must have spent his days wandering the streets, looking for opportunities to make a fortune, as is the case now, and that after making money this fellow would certainly go to the big smokers, and look at his skinny appearance, and his yellowed teeth, he must be an old smoker.

At this time, Chamberlain would not have thought that the young man was skinny because he was hungry and full, and his teeth were yellowed because he had no money to buy brushing utensils and tooth powder.

The Prime Minister of the British Empire had no idea what kind of life was being lived by the people at the bottom of the Empire.

In fact, he can't be blamed for this, he was born in a wealthy family, went all the way to college, worked in an accounting firm for a period of time after he came out, and then used the family funds to invest in plantations and metalworking companies. He was truly born with a golden spoon in his mouth, and then he has been raised under the protection of money and power, and he was born destined to be a superior person.

How could a naturally superior person know if the people at the bottom were eating grass or something else? For people like Chamberlain, the people at the bottom have always been just a series of numbers - before deciding to go into politics, Chamberlain thought that he might have to get along with the people at the bottom in the future, but then he realized that most of the people at the bottom did not care about elections at all, and they did not have the right to vote.

Later, Chamberlain further learned that even if the election results were available, the queen and other powerful people could tamper with the results as they wished, after all, the real votes were buried in the shadows, and the process of counting votes was completely free from the so-called supervision.

So why should Chamberlain care about what kind of life the people at the bottom are living? If he needs the support of the people at the bottom, he just needs to give a tearful speech when necessary, it's as simple as that.

Chamberlain, while guarding the man who had just tried to help him, continued to move towards the door of the church, as he removed the hand that was pressing the wound, and the blood was pouring out of his wound and dripping to the ground.

At last, Chamberlain felt the iron door on the outer wall of the church, and he looked once more at night-covered streets, and suddenly he saw several young men gathered not far away under the dim street lamps, who were obviously more well-dressed than the others, and whose expressions were full of vitality, not as dull as the others.

But what attracted Chamberlain the most was the portrait badge on the chest of these young people.

Chamberlain swore that he was not mistaken, and the portrait chapter was a big portrait of Lin Youde.

- It was them!

Chamberlain thought.

- Damn NERV! They want to emulate France in Great Britain! They want to divide Great Britain and plunge into civil war! That's why they want to assassinate me and mess up British politics! I'm not going to let them get away with it!

Thinking so, Chamberlain reached into the railing of the iron door as quickly as he could, opened the unlocked latch, and the moment the iron door opened inward, Chamberlain fell into the courtyard of the church.

"Anyone, I need help!" He shouted at the church, "I'm hurt, I need help, there's people out there trying to kill me, I ask for shelter!" ”

At this time, the door of the church opened, and the dim candlelight leaked inside.

Chamberlain was relieved for a moment, and he nervously looked back at the street, relieved a little when he was sure that the pan-humanists under the streetlights had no intention of chasing him.

At this time, he was dragged from the ground with strong hands.

By the time he could react, the others had already entered the church.

He sat on the marble floor of the church, gasping for air.

The unbelievably tall priest closed the door under Chamberlain's gaze.

Chamberlain let out a long sigh of relief, and he turned his head to look inside the church, only to be stunned by what he saw.

The bodies of the elderly priest and the middle-aged nun are hung from the altar at the end of the chapel, just at opposite ends of the statue of Jesus, both of whom appear to have just died.

Chamberlain raised his finger to the scene and turned to look at the priest by the church door.

The tall priest turned around slowly, and said as he turned around: "The order I got is to find a way to get Her Majesty the Queen to abandon you and replace Churchill from power, I have studied it and found that the fastest and most concise way is to kill you." ”

As he spoke, the priest's body was completely turned, and the round glasses on the bridge of his nose reflected the candlelight, which, together with the cross on his chest, became the most luminous part of his whole image, and the other parts were almost hidden in shadow against the background of these two high-gloss objects. Still, Chamberlain could see the priest's eyes with a fierce light.

"Of course, it's not enough to kill you," said the priest, laughing maniacally, "so you have to die in this neighborhood full of pan-humanists, Winston Churchill will definitely take advantage of it, and my mission will be accomplished, what a perfect plan, but it's a pity for those two good servants, but the merciful God will definitely accept their souls." ”

"Who the hell are you!" Chamberlain asked something unremarkable.

The priest drew his two guns, but his pistols were fitted with bayonet-like blades.

"I am Judas of Iscariot, with poison and daggers in my right hand, and straw ropes and silver coins in my left back, and I am an apostle and not an apostle, a believer and a non-believer, a traitor and not a traitor."

As the priest whispered as if chanting a mantra, the words on his clothes lit up.

"We sing praises of the Lord's lovingkindness, we crusade against the enemies of the Lord, we wield daggers in the night, we throw poison into the supper, we are dead apostles and apostles, we are Judas Scariot, exercising the will of the Lord in darkness. When the Lord's will is carried out, we throw the silver coins into the place of God and end this life with straw ropes. Amen. ”

The priest's robes were already full of incantational words, and he raised his sword and cut off Chamberlain's head.