The day Su Ming raided the lab, Brooklyn, New York.
There is an old building about five stories high, and every window and red brick tells its history.
It's like an old man who has witnessed everything New York has to offer.
At this moment, in a window on the fourth floor, an old man was looking out of the window, and he tried his best to prop himself up from the hospital bed, trying to see the location of the Brooklyn antique store.
But the small building wasn't the Empire State Building, and four stories weren't tall enough for him to see that far a few blocks away.
It is a sanatorium, the hallway is full of urine and the smell of decay, and many elderly people who have no one to support are arranged here.
Receive a little more professional treatment and care, or wait quietly for death to come.
"When I got old, they sent me back."
The old man leaned on the head of the bed, talking to the doctor next to him, his hair and teeth were gone, and his loose skin was covered with age spots, but his eyes were still bright: "Not in Texas, not in Boston, cough cough" The doctor and nurse came over and held him up, and the mustachioed doctor patted him on the back and comforted, "Relax, Mr.
Hawke, it's all right." ” In reality, however, the old man's condition was not optimistic at all, he was suffering from cancer and had been in a coma for several days.
He woke up suddenly this morning, regained consciousness, and if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't move, he planned to take a look a few blocks away.
Dr.
Holloway, who also lived in Brooklyn as a child, was familiar with the surrounding streets, and he knew what the old man called the Brooklyn antique store, and he also knew that the owner was an old lady with a good temperament and charm.
But old man, now that I have seen more of this situation as a doctor, you should take the opportunity to say what you should say, eat more if you want to eat, and don't worry about your sister.
Mr.
Hawke calmed his breath and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth: "It's okay, anyway, it all started in New York, and I hope I can see it all with my own eyes." ” "Witness what?"
Dr.
Holloway sat at the head of his bed, the first time he had spoken to this patient since he took over it.
"Witness the beginning of the future."
So Dr.
Holloway sat quietly on the edge of his bed all afternoon, listening to the old man tell him about the future.
In the old man's description, he tells about gods and monsters, masked heroes, and the man with a shield.
The doctor writes these down in his notebook, because listening to the patient's last voice is also a kind of hospice care.
This was supposed to be what the priests were supposed to do, but now the priests are also on the battlefield, chanting the name of God, shooting at each other or throwing grenades, just like the German priests.
But God often favors trained murderers over devout believers at such times.
Dr.
Hollerway recorded these stories, which at first were only thought to be unrealistic babbling, but the old man had clear eyes and clear logic, and he told the story of what was to come.
A web that can connect everyone, a ship that can leave the earth, and a stone that can destroy the world in an instant.
Holleway could only admit that it was all true, and the old man was not confused at all, and this was his extremely serious last words.
Doctor, he likes the stories of these heroes doing chivalrous deeds, and if it weren't for this bad era, he would definitely do chivalrous deeds like Zorro.
But now, he is the last doctor in the sanatorium, and he can't leave here.
That evening, the young nurse walked into the doctor's office and told him that Mr.
Matthew Hawke had died.
He came to the old man's ward again, and in the faint yellow light, the old man's face was pale and he lay calmly on the bed.
"Can you sign a death certificate?
Doctor.
The nurse asked him.
"Uh, okay, it's a shame he's a nice guy."
Holleway nodded, this is the most important duty of the nursing home doctor, to sign the death certificate.
The nurse also nodded sympathetically: "He passed away in a dream, kind old man, by the way, doctor, before he went to bed, let me give this to you." ” The black-haired female nurse said, turned around and picked up a small wooden box from the medicine cart on the side, which had beautiful lines on it, and it looked very weighty.
"Before bedtime?"
"Yes, he seems to know that he will never wake up again" In the wee hours of the morning, Holiday returned to his home on the Upper East Side, with a warm den, plush carpeting, and ready to enjoy some of Skywalker's best booze.
He was the best surgeon in New York before taking over the susarium, and he would have gone to the battlefield if it weren't for the fact that many high-ranking officials and dignitaries needed his services and forcibly kept him.
But his medical skills could not cure the cancer.
The Egyptian papyrus of 3000 B.C. recorded eight cases of cancer, but until now there is nothing to be done about it.
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Under the lamp of his desk, he opened the wooden box that the old man had left for him.
Inside was a pair of revolvers, a Zorro-style blindfold, and a small piece of letterhead.
"Gift, Dr.
Thomas Hollerway."
Without looking at the letter, the doctor already knew what it was, and he beat his head and complained about his carelessness.
Matthew Hawke, a lawyer from Texas and Boston, is just a pseudonym for the old man.
And Matt Hawk, is his real name, he is a two-gun man.
He is from the West and is a masked knight who was active in the Old West decades ago.
He had a black fast horse, a black blindfold on one side, and a pair of peacemaker revolvers.
His marksmanship is extremely accurate, brave and fearless, one person can fight against hundreds of bandits, and he has guarded the peace of those gold mining towns for nearly ten years.
Until his enemies were all destroyed, and then he also disappeared in the yellow sand and gales on horseback, and his name was known afterwards, and his whereabouts are unknown to this day.
If what he says is true, then he has gone to the future.
Holloway grew up reading his story, and the name of the Twin Gunslinger exists in almost all of the West, and many Americans know about his deeds, and the old man used to be a symbol of heroes.
The doctor kept complaining to himself that he should have told the deceased hero what his story meant to him, that it was the Man of Two Guns who inspired him and inspired almost anyone who was chivalrous.
When he opened the small note in the box, it clearly read: "For the next hero." ” He knew that the old man had noticed his thoughts that had not yet been put into practice, perhaps by the way he looked at him, perhaps by the way he spoke or walked.
The doctor wanted to be a hero, a hero like in the western story, but all kinds of practical factors made him never take that step and couldn't make up his mind.
But today, there is an aging hero who has passed his weapon into his hands.
Suddenly feeling a little stuffy in the study, Holleway's heart was beating fast, he drank the wine in his glass and walked to the window behind him.
Even on an early spring evening, he needs to open the window to breathe in and think about the future.
Looking at the city outside the window, the light of the neon lights reflected the tall black shadows, and he felt that the world that the old man described to him, the world full of heroes, did not seem so far away.
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