To be a good prime minister, I first became the leader of a secret religion.

Chapter 39 Unfinished Business

Viscount Hammond's voice was indeed very young and pleasant to the ear, not at all like someone in their fifties or sixties. His unique voice reminded Winston of an accordion, with a strange metallic quality in addition to its intonation.

Winston sat down on the simple wooden bench, his cane resting across his knees. The cramped space and the piled-up bricks created a depressing stillness, as if everything happening outside the attic was isolated in another dimension.

"When did the Viscount recognize me?" he asked, feigning curiosity.

"Everyone's particle composition is unique, Your Excellency. Just as an experienced fisherman can judge the best time to fish by the weather, I can also discern the unique charm of power from the movement of the air."

Viscount Hammond's metallic voice rang out again, "The ever-present shadow of the Prime Minister's residence, the decaying smell accumulated over centuries, and the material vibrations tainted by a vast and corrupt power... The aura of '10 Downing Street' emanating from you ignited in my senses the moment you stepped into this apartment."

He paused, then changed the subject: "So, Your Excellency the Prime Minister, what brings you to visit a reclusive viscount so late at night?"

Winston paused for a moment, the four questions he had intended to ask the Viscountess flashing through his mind again, but in the end he uttered a casual, perfunctory question:

Why did you decide to hold a book club?

Viscount Hammond chuckled softly from behind the curtain:

"Many people have asked me this question. The answer is actually very simple. In my opinion, humanity in this era is terminally ill. What you are infected with is not a physical disease, but a spiritual degeneration—that is, the loss of curiosity."

"There are so many unknown, strange and mysterious things in this world, yet people are indifferent to them. Whether it is a prime minister in a high position or a poor person in dire straits, they only care about the bread in front of them, the factory reports and the votes in parliament, but never look up at the starry sky or look down at the abyss under their feet."

"Aren't you really curious?"

How could I not be curious?

Winston almost immediately recalled the clear, bright moon over his homeland, the unknown void scattered across familiar planets beyond Great Britain, and the alien species, magic, ancient gods, and human history over the past seven hundred years, which, though slightly deviated, seemed to still be rumbling forward along its predetermined trajectory…

At that moment, he understood Viscount Hammond: "You hold salons to collect anomalies?"

"That's right. Among those who come to see me are liars and the mentally ill, as well as genuine extraordinary individuals and those troubled by extraordinary powers."

Viscount Hammond replied with a calm and matter-of-fact tone, "I have spent my whole life pursuing things that are rejected by common sense, because my very existence is the greatest anomaly in this mundane world."

Winston: "You are the heir of God."

The Viscount readily admitted, "That's right. My mother never married, yet she conceived and gave birth to me. On the day I was born, all the mosquitoes in the yard fled, and the corpses of ants, cockroaches, and earthworms that couldn't escape covered the entire street, leaving no place for the midwife to even step."

Winston listened in silence, and the dark attic grew even colder with each word of Viscount Hammond.

"The local priest noticed something was wrong immediately and sent me from the countryside to London. The day after I was born, the royal family granted me the title of viscount. When I was fifteen, my mother, who had gone mad after giving birth to me, died."

"Her death removed a certain barrier that had been blocking my view, and from then on I began to have a deep interest in the starry sky above and all things in the world."

It sounded as if his mother's death had stripped Viscount Hammond of his human instincts for self-preservation. Winston followed up by asking, "So, did you approach that prime minister, or did the prime minister notice you?"

"The latter, of course. I have no interest in power, and I have never once glanced at Downing Street with either eye," the Viscount replied. "But I still remember that day... Ah, poor Jacobs, his hair white, thin as a skeleton, dragging his dying body to beg for my help. He had been driven to desperation by His Majesty."

Winston's brain instantly recalled the identity of "Jacobs".

This person was my predecessor... who served as prime minister for one year and six months, a rather long tenure.

However, according to Viscount Hammond, Jacobs had not found a way to deal with the Queen and was simply stubbornly holding on through sheer willpower.

To be able to persist for a year and a half without cheating, that takes an iron will!

Winston was amazed.

"Viscount Hammond, I must live. Is there any way you can make me live?"

"He said this to me, grabbing my hand, his eyes bulging outwards, like a dying fish washed ashore and exposed to the scorching sun."

"I still have unfinished business, and I must remain in this position. Please save me, for the sake of this country, for the future of this land and its people!!"

"That was the first time I had ever seen such a pure thirst for power."

Viscount Hammond said to Winston,

"You power-driven animals are the complete opposite of me. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if his desires could overcome his physical limits. I told him, 'I can try several methods to prolong your life, but you must understand that this violates the fundamental laws of matter, and you will pay an unimaginable price.'"

"And Jacobs agreed without even asking what the price would be."

Winston tightened his grip on his cane and said frankly, "I don't think I have any attachment to this position, far less than Mr. Jacobs..."

The Viscount remained noncommittal: "Then why don't you resign and instead come to me? You've only been prime minister for a week. We can discuss this again in six months—if you're still alive then."

"Sorry, going back to the story, Jacobs and I tried many methods, and without exception, they all failed."

"He died, unsurprisingly, and the whole thing made me, at 15, very angry and confused."

Winston could imagine that the fifteen-year-old Viscount, like Margaret, was at an age where he felt he could save or destroy the world.

"So after that, I deliberately approached each prime minister, tried to get closer to them, and tried to figure out how to resolve this, well, let's call it the 'situation' for now. I tried to figure out how to resolve this 'situation' that happened to the prime minister."

"However, to be honest, things didn't go well. My relationship with them would occasionally get good, but most of the time it was terrible because I couldn't understand what politicians were thinking every day. They seemed emotionally stable, but in reality, they were as unpredictable as my mother."

"I also cannot understand you, Mr. Wheeler. You probably still don't know why Jacobs died. He never paid attention to newly appointed prime ministers. In his eyes, you were probably no different from the pigs, dogs, cattle, and sheep in this country. If that's the case, why are you in such a hurry to see me?"

Winston's expression suddenly became subtle.