Ninth class citizen

Chapter 160 The Express Arrives
In the abandoned servants' room in the southwest corner, the scene was quite different at this moment.

Master Hans lay on the bed, looking even weaker than in the past few days, his chest rising and falling weakly, and not a trace of blood on his pale face.

Old Martin stood behind a man in a doctor's uniform, anxiously watching him carefully examine Master Hans' body with a small instrument he carried with him.

As soon as the other party stopped, he couldn't wait to ask: "Doctor Monet, how is my young master?"

Doctor Monet did not answer immediately. He silently put all the instruments into the medical box, stood up and walked out.

Old Martin understood and quickly followed him out, closing the door.

"It should be in the next two days." Doctor Monet said, "I think you are mentally prepared for this."

"Didn't you say last time that you could hold out for another week?" Old Martin reached out and pressed Doctor Monet's shoulders, his eyes reddened. "Why did you suddenly..."

Doctor Monet let him shake, raised his eyes, looked at the beautiful patterns changing in the air not far away, and sighed softly.

"I don't know either. The patient seems to have been stimulated by something and has lost the will to live."

Old Martin suddenly realized: "Yesterday afternoon, Miller came to see the young master and talked a lot. After that, the young master vomited blood. This is not the first time that he has belittled Mr. Hans in front of the young master to stimulate the young master."

A hint of sympathy flashed across Doctor Monet's light grey eyes.

"Mr. Miller has become the new darling of the media and social circles recently. Even I, who rarely watch the news, have heard about it."

"He is a complete villain! He used to fawn on Mr. Hans every day, but now he has taken over the young master's property and sent him here to die."

Dr. Monet was not too concerned about these details.

"Excuse me, but the first-order B-level gene optimizer that the patient needs is quite rare even in the capital star circle. It is not something that can be bought with money. Maybe Mr. Miller is just powerless."

"He did it on purpose! Otherwise, why would he apply to freeze all the assets under the young master's name on the grounds of a contract dispute?"

"That's enough, Martin." Master Hans' voice came out.

The soundproofing of the servants' room was poor to begin with, and Monet's entire conversation with Martin reached his ears.

"Send Doctor Monet away," he ordered weakly.

After Monet left with a lot of gossip, old Martin walked in dejectedly.

"It's all my fault." His weathered face was full of regret.

"If I hadn't bought the medicine from that store for cheap, I wouldn't have put all my money into it."

Master Hans had already used up most of his energy when he raised his voice just now. He took a long time to speak, "It's okay."

He forced a smile and said, "If the goods are not delivered within 10 standard federal days, the money will be directly refunded. You won't lose anything."

"But we don't care about the money. We just hope you can get better." Old Martin's eyes were moist.

"Everyone has to accept their fate." Master Hans stared at the roof.

A long and narrow crack had appeared on the alloy wall there, with drops of water condensing on the edge of the crack, one drop falling every few seconds.

"Look, sometimes life is no more noble than a drop of water. It is the same when it falls, being absorbed, trampled, mixed into the filthy mud, and then evaporating silently and sublimating again."

As he said this, he raised his right hand with great effort and drew a few strokes in the air.

But in the end, he was too weak, his arms fell down, and his expression became a little strange, like a mixture of joy and sadness.

"Master?" Old Martin had served Hans and his son for many years and immediately guessed what he was doing.

"Did you come up with an idea for a new pattern?" he asked.

"Yes." Master Hans smiled faintly, but there was no trace of smile in his eyes.

"And it is the rarest life pattern. If I am given a little more time, I will definitely be able to develop it. This pattern will definitely be recorded in the Federal Pattern Museum and lay the foundation for the Hans family's immortality. It's a pity that it's too late."

"Master!" Old Martin's tears finally fell: "Let Old Martin die for you! You are still so young. If that accident hadn't happened and your genes hadn't degenerated, you would have been much better!"

"This is fate." Master Hans shook his head: "I accept it, and you should accept it too. Don't go against Miller and the others anymore. It will do you no good."

Before Martin could answer, a bright light suddenly shone in from the window, causing him to squint.

But even so, he could see clearly what was hovering in the air.

It was a small drone with the logo of Shunfeng Express painted on its wings.

Fast delivery? Old Martin felt a glimmer of hope.

"Space is boundless, and express delivery will arrive! Express delivery is dedicated to serving you!" A crisp electronic sound came into the room through the window, and a light blue light came in through the window, covering the entire bed.

"Identity confirmed. Fifth-class citizen Alvy Hans, please check your express mail."

Old Martin opened the window, let the drone in, and with the authorization of his young master, signed for a small box on his behalf.

He nervously opened the box and took out the champagne-colored metallic injection.

"Master." His hand holding the injection was shaking a little, and he walked to the bedside step by step: "Or, I'll find someone to test it to see if this medicine is real."

"No need." Master Hans took a deep breath and closed his eyes: "Come on."

The star commander's floating convoy is about to arrive. Everyone in the courtyard has lined up according to their status and is looking up at the sky, eagerly waiting.

Suddenly, someone pointed at a small flying vehicle with green light that had just flown away from the southwest corner of the manor and asked in confusion, "What is that? A drone?"

"This shouldn't happen. This airspace was designated a no-fly zone a quarter of an hour ago. How come there are still drones in the air?"

"Then it's probably a fast delivery company. They're the only ones that can ignore the no-fly restrictions."

Miller was listening to the discussions when suddenly something occurred to him. He turned his head to look to the southwest, but he only saw a tiny dot of light that disappeared in an instant.

"Here they come!" someone shouted, pointing at the empty floating fleet approaching rapidly from the southeast.

Miller immediately put aside his previous anxiety. He put on an elegant and gentle smile, took the lead in greeting the star leader, and his attitude was neither humble nor arrogant, which quickly won the other party's favor.

With this good impression as a foundation, the rest of the journey went very smoothly.

A memorial room for Mr. Hans had already been arranged in the main building, with a holographic projection of Mr. Hans placed in the middle, and several large screens around it, playing his various contributions to the Federation's graphic arts career.

The star captain bowed to the projection of Mr. Hans, and asked about Mr. Hans's health, expressing his desire to visit him in person.

(End of this chapter)