Global Movie Emperor

"Mr. Bonnie W. Rossi?"

"I am, sir."

During the interview at the airport, the staff picked up his passport and compared the photo with the old man in front of him. Compared to the photo, he looked much older. His black hair was mixed with silver threads and was neatly pressed under his hat. His face was lined with wrinkles. There are age spots appearing in every corner of his face. He is wearing a suit. Judging from the style, he must be a few years old. Even though he has been permed and dyed without wrinkles, he still looks slightly shabby due to the baptism of time. His hands with loose skin are intertwined and holding hands. Cheng placed his fist in front of his navel, and when his slightly cloudy eyes looked at the staff, he tried his best to show kindness.

"You have lived in Magnesium Country for more than thirty years, why do you want to come back?"

"I miss home..."

Looking into the sharp eyes of the staff, the old Asian man, who had already entered the age of hearing, thought for a moment and gave the answer.

The stamp was stamped on the passport, and after a ping-ping-pong-pong sound, his passport was handed out by the staff along the window. He could go home, the home he had not been to for more than thirty years.

"Welcome home, Mr. Rossi."

…

Like humans, cities also have a lifespan. The difference is that when humans die, they are buried, while when cities die, humans are buried.

As emerging neighborhoods replace traditional urban construction, a large number of traces of human survival have made the bustling streets of the past synonymous with dirt and chaos. Only a few lucky blocks will become indelible symbols of traditional style. sign, but his home is obviously not in the kind of neighborhood that can become a tourist attraction.

Passing through a commercial street occupied by a large number of refugees, every time he passed these old shops, he would always miss the beautiful scenery of this street. But now, the debris that was not cleaned up during the day has become the garbage at night, the remnants of the night's indulgence. It is difficult for people to clean up the things, and it looks like a garbage dump after coming and going. Every now and then, you can see refugees and homeless people sleeping soundly in the corner.

It has become a slum that is disliked by the locals. It is also a dangerous area where tour guides prohibit tourists from visiting at night. Violence is common and human trafficking occurs. Even the people who live here have no sense of security. Of course, this place has become A breeding ground for criminals.

How dangerous it is for a dying old man to pass by here? It’s clear from the ferocious looks in the homeless eyes of the homeless people who are still asleep. If it weren’t for broad daylight, it would be inconvenient to do it on the main road, and Bonnie doesn’t look like one. He looked like a rich man, otherwise he would have been lying on the ground and being plundered by others at this moment.

Fortunately, far away from this block in the center of the old city, you can still see the remote corners. It is already autumn, and the corners of the streets are piled with bright yellow ginkgo leaves, hiding the ugliness in every corner of the old city. , against the desolate atmosphere, it seems that this dilapidated street has a sense of quiet decay.

He walked slowly, as if time was constantly dragging his feet. He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms and walked straight to the cemetery. He chatted with the cemetery manager for a few words, briefly identified the direction, and walked towards the goal of this trip.

The tombstone in front of him must have been visited by no one for a while. The black marble was beaten by wind and rain, and there were obvious traces of dust on the surface. He squatted down gently, took out a towel from his arms, wiped the tombstone clean, and looked at the inlaid in it. The photo of the woman posted on the tombstone was older than when he left, but she still looked familiar to him.

The flowers were placed in front of the monument, and the kraft paper wrapping the bouquets was blown slightly by the wind. He opened his lips, which were shiny with saliva, and opened and closed them. In the end, he did not say a word. He could only stretch out his palms and caress them gently. The cold stone tablet, closing his eyes, missed the way he once stroked her hair.

The ginkgo tree became naughty again. After being teased by the wind, it generously gave the autumn wind its only gift. The leaves fell slowly, gently covering the woman's photo, as if she didn't want to see the man's long-aging face again. , or perhaps, she doesn’t want men to see that she is no longer charming.

The wind was cold, consistent with water, and was all-pervasive, easily penetrating Bonnie's clothes. He felt the cold, and stayed there for a while. When he stood up, he shook off the leaves on his body, and then he noticed that there were several young men standing silently on one side. , several of them did not want to look at Bonnie, and when they looked at each other, their eyes drifted around, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. Only one middle-aged man's eyes were cold, not indifferent to strangers, but with a look in his eyes. A touch of hostility.

None of the men looked like good guys. They all had tattoos of a similar style on their exposed body parts. Their clothes were informal, or very inappropriate. They looked out of place in a solemn occasion like a cemetery. Standing in front of Bonnie, Like a street gangster about to plot something evil.

Bonnie looked at each other for a moment with a fat man with a beard standing in the crowd. The man walked towards Bonnie, but he didn't look like he wanted to communicate with Bonnie. Instead, it was Bonnie with twinkling eyes. She looked a little nervous, but when she saw that the man was about to be in the same body with her, she still couldn't help but tremble and softly called the man's name.

"Andrew."

"Um."

"Is this your friend? Can you introduce me to him?"

Bonnie raised his hands to his chest, intertwined his hands, and smiled and nodded to Andrew and his companions with a kind face. This gesture also received a response from the other party. Several people smiled awkwardly in return, but still remained silent, quite a bit. He looked at Andrew with an uneasy feeling, hoping that he would introduce himself.

"They don't have to know you."

After all, they were separated. The man walked to the tombstone, gently brushed away the leaves covering his mother's photo, knelt on one knee, held the tombstone with his hands, kissed the woman in the photo gently, and took away the flowers Bonnie brought. He picked it up and threw it aside before answering Bonnie's question.

"I just want to chat with you. I really want to know how your life is going now."

"No need, I live a good life. As long as you don't appear in front of me, I will be very happy. I don't want to quarrel with you in front of my mother's tombstone. You can go."

"No, I just... I just..."

As a father and son who had not seen each other for a long time, Bonnie swallowed his words and said nothing. Now Andrew was hostile to him. Any consolation and warning would arouse Andrew's disgust and anger. In the past thirty years, he had never been in Andrew's house. He had played the role of a father in his life, but now, he was not qualified to intervene in Andrew's life. Bonnie just felt that he was indebted, so indebted that he did not dare to say a word when his son went astray.

If he were here, would Andrew go to college like other people's children and sit in an office drinking coffee and playing on the computer? Even if you don't study well, you can still live a stable life in a repair shop or factory? When I think of this, a painful feeling fills my heart. The way he dresses, it is obvious that he lives a poor life. His tattoos are obviously related to gangs. His son has become a low-level member of the Mafia. When we meet again thirty years later, , Bonnie really blamed himself.

However, he still dared not say a word. Facing a father who abandoned his wife and children before he could remember, Andrew was qualified to have a rebellious attitude toward Bonnie like a child. Perhaps not bothering him was the best thing for the father and son now. A good way to get along.

"I just... hope you're safe."

Andrew didn't answer, didn't even look back, he just waved his hand in annoyance, as if to shoo away the disgusting flies flying around him. Bonnie saw this and didn't say anything. Before leaving, he took off his hat and bowed gently to the group of friends. Bow, turn and leave.

"Andrew, please take care of me."

…

(Thirty-five years ago)

"Bonnie, I don't want to see Torres go home the day after tomorrow."

"I promise you, boss."

"Gamora owes you a favor."

The old man stood up, walked around the desk, walked gently to Bonnie, patted Bonnie's shoulder affectionately, waved to the person next to him who was about to get up to see him off, and personally saw Bonnie off.

The door was closed, the bright sunlight was blocked, and the long and narrow corridor was dim again. Bonnie stood at the door of the reception room for a few seconds before turning around and leaving. Occasionally he would meet the family members of the core people, and he would take off his hat from time to time to pay tribute until he walked out. Villa, stepped on the gravel-covered road, got into his old Cadillac, drove away from the manor, parked on the side of the road, put down the seat, put his head in his hands, looked at the roof of the car erratically, lost in thought.

He is going to be famous, if he really kills Torres tomorrow, but this is not worthy of his happiness. Ten years ago, when he was still a young boy, he might be excited, give his mortal enemy a head-on blow, and kill the old man. The godfather's son is enough to make him a famous figure in the city, and even become a new underworld idol.

But now, after being involved in gangs for so long, he gradually understands that becoming a gang member and doing dirty work for the gang cannot live in a high profile. If you live in a high profile, you will die in a high profile.

But if the task is handed over to you, you have to complete it. If you complete the job, you will have a chance of survival. If you refuse, you will really die. After thinking for a while, he straightened the back of his chair and turned Roll up the window, step on the accelerator, and drive away.

…

Shortly after sunset, large dark clouds arrived, and soon the raindrops fell to the ground. In a very short period of time, heavy rain fell. Although it alleviated the heat of summer, the rain came into contact with the ground that was still warm, causing heavy fog to rise. Like a high wall, blocking the view.

Outside the bar, someone was taking advantage of the rain to cool down at the door. He took the opportunity to touch the beautiful woman while chatting and laughing. He just heard a bang. Even the heavy rain could not cover up the huge sound. He instinctively followed the sound and looked into the distance until A few seconds later, a pair of car lights shone through the thick fog. It took another few seconds to see its shape. A boxy old blue Cadillac slowly drove to the door, allowing observation. The man driving the vehicle breathed a sigh of relief.

When the halogen bulb lights up, it is accompanied by high temperature. The rainwater evaporates when it passes through the lampshade. A light mist lingers around the light column. The vehicle is turned off, the door is opened, a black umbrella is stretched out, and an Asian man with black hair and eyes emerges from the car. He got up and down, straightened his suit again, the cigarette butt in his mouth flickered, and waved to the man at the door.

"Hey Bonnie, what was that noise just now?" asked the man standing at the door.

"I didn't see a puddle in front of me, so I drove into it. It probably hit the chassis."

"Okay, scare me."

Bonnie didn't answer any more, and went up the steps in a few steps, put away the umbrella, shook off the rainwater, handed it to the woman next to the man, and went directly into the tavern.

The heavy rain has been falling for several hours without stopping, which naturally affects the business of the tavern. There are only a few arrogant men drinking with their female companions. When they saw Bonnie coming in, they stood up and greeted politely.

Waving to them as well, Bonnie walked into the bar, opened a bottle of ouzo and took a swig. The bartender handed him a key. After taking it, he walked into the wine room. There was an iron door inside, and he pushed open the iron door. When I opened the door, a burst of hot air rushed over me, mixed with the smell of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes, it was sour and choking.

But Bonnie was already used to this smell. He listened expressionlessly to the yelling coming from inside the house. In front of him, he saw gambling tables with chips covered on green tablecloths and people serving tea and water. Young girls were wearing close-fitting clothes and wandering around various gambling tables. When they saw their acquaintances winning money, they enthusiastically hugged the men from behind and accepted the tips they handed over with smiles.

The red-faced gamblers did not notice his appearance, and the girls and dealers who could notice Bonnie did not say hello to distract the attention of the gamblers who were already on top. After just nodding, he Entering the side room, a room that is never open to gamblers.

In the house, a male lion was sleeping soundly in a cage. He was awakened by the sound of the door opening. After seeing Bonnie, he returned to his original position and lay down. It was obvious that the male lion was already used to his presence. He lay quietly with only his eyes. Follow Bonnie as he moves.

On the other side, there was an iron cage, with a naked man covered in blood curled up. His hands were hung on the iron cage, and his head was buried between his hands. He seemed to be taking a nap. Bonnie saw this and kicked him. He kicked the iron cage, waking the man up, and looked at Bonnie with fear on his face.

"I asked you to sleep here? If you don't get the money on the last day, I will really feed you to the lions."

"Bonnie, I..."

He kicked the cage again, knocking back the man's begging for mercy. Bonnie sat on the boss's chair, took a sip of wine, threw the cigarette butt in his mouth into the man's iron cage, and spit out into the dim light bulb. After a blue mist, he slowly said: "I need to be quiet, and you also need to be quiet and think about whether money or life is more important."

The man kept silent while Bonnie drank the last bit of ouzo in one gulp, took out a revolver from the drawer, loaded the bullets, stuffed it into his trousers, held a cigarette in his mouth, and left drunkenly. room.

Outdoors, the sound of rain was intermittent. After the dark clouds dispersed, there would be a bigger moon. The rainwater accumulated on the potholed and muddy road reflected the moonlight. His steps were frivolous, and he stepped in several puddles before he managed to climb into the car and kicked Throttle, splashing water, large-displacement engine roaring, and in the blink of an eye, it was speeding away.

…

Time passes, and the sun rises. The city with rapid economic development has begun to be busy, and everyone is dressed very fashionably. After all, this is Italy, the post-war economic miracle, and a fashionable country where clothing and bags are robbed by the world.

A man with yellow skin and black hair was walking against the flow of people towards the residential area. His steps were messy, he was carrying a black coat in his hands, and there were still wine stains on his shirt. Although he was dressed appropriately, he was drunk like this early in the morning. People who are smart will always avoid sober people. Without anyone to support them, they just staggered forward and entered an apartment building.

He took out the key and tried several times to open the mailbox. He took out a pistol from his coat and threw it into the mailbox, locked it, and took the elevator to the fifth floor, 503, which was his home.

"Dong dong dong... open the door, open the door!"

Putting his head against the door to maintain his balance, he made a fist with his right hand and slammed the door several times, shouting at the people in the room. Soon, the door was opened, and a blond lady wearing an apron held a rice shovel in her hand. , looking at the drunken man outside the door, he also got angry.

"Bonnie, why do you always come back drunk early in the morning! Other people's husbands go out to work in high spirits every morning, but my husband hangs out somewhere every night and doesn't come back until the morning! I'm really fed up with that. !”

"Fart, you can't stand it. You can't live without me."

Ignoring the woman's screams, he held the woman's body and lifted her up. The woman picked up a rice shovel and gently slapped Bonnie on the head as a threat, but it had no effect at all, and Bonnie easily threw her to the sofa. .

"Andrew's still sleeping, and I'm still making pancakes..."

These words reminded Bonnie. He raised his head cautiously and moved to the stroller like a thief. Looking at Andrew who was still sleeping soundly, he couldn't help but breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't coax the child. Fortunately, he didn't hurt the little one. Ancestor woke me up, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do anything else this morning.

He retracted his head, but the woman was still pressed under him, clasping her hands and looking angrily at Bonnie. Seeing this, Bonnie put his index finger up in his mouth and shushed, then lowered his voice and spoke with a volume no bigger than a mosquito. A woman's ear.

"Then let's come quietly."

"Get out of here, the pot is really going to burn! If you don't behave seriously, I will wake Andrew up."

Bonnie immediately raised his hands in surrender, sat aside in an orderly manner, took off his shirt, and wore a white waistcoat, revealing his strong shoulders. When he saw the woman slowly getting up, he couldn't help but rub her butt gently. A light kick.

"Isn't the pot going to burn? Why don't you go quickly?"

"You bastard, just drink yourself to death so that I can remarry a good man. I don't know how many wrong things I have done by marrying you."

"What's for breakfast? I'm going to starve to death."

"You eat whatever I do. You have no right to be picky! It's best to starve to death."

Having said that, breakfast was quickly brought to the table by the woman, with a cup of coffee and freshly baked tortillas. Bonnie came to the table with his hands on his hips. Seeing that he was eating this again, he frowned, pinched the round tortilla with his fingers, and turned it over. He looked at it again and threw it aside.

"I eat this kind of food every day. Am I a mule? Or a cow? It's already burnt..."

Before she finished speaking, the woman refuted: "It's not a good thing you did. You don't have to eat if you don't want to. The money you left for your family is only enough to make these things. Do you still want to eat croissants and German hot dogs? Yes." Eat and you’ll earn more money back!”

"I can't complain anymore?"

"Even if I stew shit for you, you still have to eat it for me."

"I won't eat yet! Let's see what you can do to me."

After saying that, he dived forward and carried his wife on his back in the same action as before, except this time the target was no longer the sofa, but the room. The scoldings gradually disappeared until a long time later they were accompanied by the cry of the child. She went out to breastfeed in disheveled clothes, while Bonnie lay naked on the bed and ate the cold tortillas. After the child fell asleep again, the two sides lost their temper and stared at each other for a while, feeling sleepy after drinking. It also came to him. He closed his eyes and took the opportunity to fall asleep under the bright midday sun.

…

With the arrival of a new day, he was awakened by nightmares as always. His wife was still sleeping soundly beside him. He leaned over gently, not daring to kiss his wife's forehead for fear that his actions would wake her up. He just sniffed gently like a wild wolf. After sniffing his wife's scent, he tiptoed out of the house. At the lowest temperature, the wind was strong and slightly cold. He wrapped himself in his coat, took out the pistol from the mailbox, stuffed it into his arms, and lit the car on fire.

While waiting, he lit a cigarette and looked through the car window from time to time to the unlit window upstairs. This was the gentle harbor he had been looking for for a long time, allowing him to be by the side of the woman who loved him. Falling asleep, but obviously, people like him are not qualified to live this kind of life. If you work in this industry, you must understand that many things are destined to not be what you want. He, a person who specializes in doing dirty work for the gang, wants to find a The destination of the soul is destined to be a fantasy. Even if he hid the mother and child so well that no one discovered their existence for such a long time, this man who lived a bloody life and licked blood from the knife's edge was not blessed to enjoy it. Such a comfortable life.

He is also the destroyer of the beautiful Eden he longs for.

Kill a few other people's families, then turn around and go back to your own home to enjoy family happiness with your children in your arms? Obviously unrealistic.

So I am unconsciously afraid, afraid of the dark night, afraid that one day, my mortal enemy will find this hidden spiritual paradise and smash it all to pieces with gunfire.

I want to stay away, but I don't want to leave, I want to hug, but under the stimulation of blood and alcohol, it becomes increasingly difficult to control this increasingly irritable heart.

He threw the cigarette butt out of the window, rolled up the car window, and took one last look at the home that made him so nostalgic. The morning light was slightly brighter, and the sun was rising, and his eyes became fierce, like a beast that chooses people to devour, and it will have a bloody mouth today. , kicked heavily and drove towards the distance.

And the next second after he left, a warm yellow light came on. His wife stood by the balcony and watched him leave, gently wiping the corners of her eyes with her palms.

After living with him for so long, it would be a real lie if she really didn't know anything.

The daily and nocturnal lifestyle, the fake beard and glue in the drawer, the sporadic blood stains on the cuffs, and the pistol occasionally found in the mailbox, all the clues were connected together. She knew it, but she didn't dare to mention it at all. And the silent truth.

She is the wife of a mafia member. After discovering this alarming fact, her lover also relaxed the confidentiality of his identity. The two of them knew the truth, but pretended to be ignorant to maintain the marriage, but every time When her husband went out early in the morning like today, she would always stand by the window and pray for his safe return.

After all, Bonnie is the husband of her children, the backbone of the family, and the lover she married without any regrets, even if he was a mafia.

That’s accepted.

…

As a new-style gangster, Camorra did not inherit the old-school tradition of using blood as a bond to maintain family unity and order. Instead, it carried out disorderly expansion, attracting immigrants from various countries, such as South Americans and Asians, and even Branches were established in other countries to open world routes for the gang's D-product business.

Starting from production areas such as Colombia and Mexico, passing through Europe, and finally reaching the American continent, D products costing one dollar are transported, and the final profit can be added with three zeros after the cost price. Such exaggerated huge profits make countless people jealous, and among them The fighting between mafia groups that control the huge trafficking industry chain has also become more intense because of D drugs.

Maybe you wake up in the morning, drink coffee, and look through the newspapers you ordered. You will not pay attention to the news on the main page that one or two people died in a mafia fight. But the reality is that the death toll in each fight will be determined later. Add a zero to get the true number of deaths.

Countless vendettas, unclear grievances, and several fights every week make the members of all major gangs frightened. They are constantly wandering between life and death. It is definitely not a joke. They are highly concentrated every day and the pressure is constant. The accumulation of money has caused the fights between members to become more and more fierce. The friction caused by money has gradually turned into cruel revenge between mortal enemies. This sick life has been going on for three years. As for when it will end All this bad news is still unknown to Bonnie today.

Today, he will personally add another layer of blood to the grudges between the old and new gangs.

…

In the early morning of a new day, before the sun rose, his wife was still sleeping soundly beside him. He leaned over gently, not daring to kiss her on the forehead for fear that his actions would wake her up. He just sniffed her gently like a wild wolf. He smelled the smell of his wife, and then tiptoed out of the house. At the lowest temperature, the wind was a bit strong and slightly cold. He wrapped himself in his coat, took out the pistol from the mailbox, stuffed it into his arms, lit the car, and looked up for one last time. The lights in the windows of his home were not on, so he drove away.

And the next second after he left, a warm yellow light came on. His wife stood by the balcony and watched him leave, gently wiping the corners of her eyes with her palms.

After living with him for so long, it would be a real lie if she really didn't know anything.

The daily and nocturnal lifestyle, the fake beard and glue in the drawer, the sporadic blood stains on the cuffs, and the pistol occasionally found in the mailbox, all the clues were connected together. She knew it, but she didn't dare to mention it at all. And, the silent truth.

She is the wife of a mafia member. After discovering this alarming fact, her lover also relaxed the confidentiality of his identity. The two of them knew the truth, but pretended to be ignorant to maintain the marriage, but every time When her husband went out early in the morning like today, she would always stand by the window and pray for his safe return.

After all, Bonnie is the husband of her children, the backbone of the family, and the lover she married without any regrets, even if he was a mafia.

That’s accepted.

…

At noon, on a crowded street, he made a call to an insubstantial person in a phone booth. His eyes wandered around, trying to find the killers who were also hiding around him. After all, it was impossible for him to do such a big job alone, Godfather. When a son goes out, he must be accompanied by at least seven or eight capable bodyguards. Especially in such a bad situation, the number of people accompanying him will naturally be much larger.

With such a lineup, he naturally needs helpers, and the manpower is arranged by the boss. Although they have the same tasks, they may not know each other. This is what Bonnie needs, so as not to be caught and then pull out the carrot and bring out the mud, so that he can He is also trapped. The current search for his accomplices is just to take precautions. If there is an acquaintance, he will need to disguise himself again to avoid being recognized by the acquaintance and minimize the risk factor.

In the end, the search was fruitless. He glanced at his watch. He walked out of the phone booth, holding a coffee cup in his hand. He hid next to a light box in a barber shop and pretended to look at the fashion magazine just now. The informant's information was accurate. Torres The arrival time was not much different from Bonny's calculated arrival time.

According to the intelligence, he was going to have lunch with a congressman this time. The boss emphasized that if the congressman arrived first, he would have to give up the assassination temporarily and choose to spread his manpower to intercept the three roads that Torres could go home. The result was that Bonnie What I don't want to see is that once Torres is attacked on his way home, the manpower will have to separate, and the risk factor will be greatly increased. It is easy to turn from a unilateral shooting to a large-scale fire fight. In that case, I want to It is too difficult to kill a person who is protected by layers of protection, including wearing a body armor.

Bonnie didn't want to take this risk, but the progress of the matter was not up to him. Everything depended on God's will. He could only watch silently as the restaurant, which had just been full, refused to accept new customers and gradually emptied it. The staff of the restaurant quickly cleaned up and prepared to welcome the prince and politicians.

About five minutes later, a black motorcade slowly came from the east. It was Torres. This was excellent news for the killers who were ambushing here. The whistle of Torres's motorcade was a warning to these killers. It was the death knell that sounded the death knell for Torres.

The owner of the hotel had already walked out of the door, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his distinguished guests. He rubbed his hands with a smile on his face. It wasn't until the motorcade stopped and a strong man got out of the car first to search and confirm that everything was correct, that he dared to approach the car. Lancia in the middle of the motorcade gently opened the door for the protagonist.

A thick thigh stepped on the ground. In an instant, fine beads of sweat appeared on Bonnie's forehead. The frequency of his heart beat increased. The tall and burly man finally came out of the station and shook hands with the restaurant owner with a smile. , Bonnie immediately noticed that several people on the street began to move towards the restaurant. He followed closely, holding the gun in his coat tightly, and walked forward with his head lowered.

The gunshot was not Bonnie's first attack. The gunshot came from Bonnie's right front. An accomplice ran over from across the street and shot Torres directly in the back of the head.

The gun was too hasty and not accurate enough. It only hit Torres on the right shoulder. After a scream, the accompanying bodyguards immediately reacted, hugged Torres in their arms, and ran towards the vehicle not far away, preparing to take Torres with him. He fled the scene, while other bodyguards immediately fought back. A firefight was still unavoidable. A large number of passers-by screamed and fled in all directions. Only the two sides still drew their guns and fired at each other.

But just when Torres endured the pain and opened the car door, a stream of heat flowed to the top of his head. He looked up, hugged him in his arms, and used his body to cover the bullet for him. The bodyguard was shot in the forehead, and the bullet spun violently. When it passed through the head, a huge hole was made in the back of the head. A large amount of blood mixed with brain organ residues washed onto his face. He couldn't help but look towards the direction of the bullet. There was a man with an Asian face wearing a top hat. , holding a revolver in his hand, with the black muzzle pointed at him, making him subconsciously prepare to take out his gun and fight back. Unfortunately, he was not a rapid-fire shooter. The weapon in the opponent's hand was the first to spit out tongues of fire, and there was a sharp pain in his chest. The hot bullet penetrated his sternum, the temperature could instantly cook the muscles, and then reached his heart. Finally, it drilled a hole in the left collarbone, and then on the face. He could clearly feel his pain. The eyeball was blown out, and the bullet was shot diagonally from the eye socket. The force was a hundred times stronger than a drill. In the blink of an eye, it broke through the defense of the skull and shot out from about three centimeters above the ear, followed by another gunshot. , pierced his Adam's apple, and through bone conduction he could clearly feel that the bullet had penetrated the middle of his cervical spine, causing his head to tilt back unconsciously, and a large amount of blood gushes out of his nostrils. The last thing he could see was, The man who was wearing lambskin gloves and shooting at him calmly walked into the alley, and then... nothing happened. He fell heavily to the ground, pressing on the bodyguard who died first, with a dull look in his eyes. , without closing his eyes.

Bonnie got behind the bodyguard at a tricky angle and successfully attacked Torres. He could clearly realize that Torres was dead in his hands. He put the gun back in his arms and tightened his grip. Wearing a windbreaker, lowering the brim of his hat, he walked quickly through the alley. The gunshots behind him became more and more intensive. The whistle of the Kalashnikov machine gun kept echoing. Steel, concrete, glass, and even human flesh became its targets. goal, but it has nothing to do with him anymore.

He drove away quickly, tearing off the beard that was fixed with glue at the corners of his mouth. He stepped on the heels of his shoes alternately, took off his shoes and took out the newspaper stuffed in the shoe pit. He rolled down the window and opened the window three times. A pair of leather shoes were thrown to a homeless man lying on the street taking a nap. The hard sole hit his head and woke the homeless man up. But when he looked up to see who was throwing things, Bonnie had already turned right in the car. Another block.

In the old neighborhood, this is the chassis of the Camorra. No one has the key to the dilapidated factory building that Bonnie took over as his own. This was originally the place where Bonnie tortured others, and now it no longer exists. It had no effect, so I threw all the clothes I wore today into a fire barrel made of oil cans, poured gasoline on them and burned them all.

He took off the license plate and threw it into the manhole. He changed into his old Cadillac and left here. He went straight to the port. The passenger ship was inspecting tickets. He boarded the ship smoothly with the official fake ID and stood on the plywood. , there was laughter and laughter everywhere, it was a sunny day, seagulls were circling overhead, and the breeze was blowing his hair. He turned his head and looked at the blue sea, and then looked at the direction he came from.

Thirty minutes, the journey from hell to heaven is only a few kilometers, but for the Mafia, going to heaven requires a ticket bought with blood on their hands.

No, it’s not a ticket, it’s just an experience card. Heaven is just a short vacation. He will eventually land on another continent, where blood and death are still waiting for him. The destination is Chicago, a country controlled by the five major families. The place in the hand...

The ship's whistle roared, the sails were set, and the wind became stronger. He turned his back to the sea, found a bench to sit down, looked towards the direction of home, lit a cigarette, held the cigarette butt between his thumb and middle finger and took a deep breath, and the sea breeze filled his face with smoke. For a few seconds, he covered his frown due to sadness and smoothed his hair flying in the wind with his left hand. On a sunny afternoon, he leaned back on the chair and closed his eyes to relax.

…

The stars passed, the crescent moon rose, and the bright sunshine was replaced by the dark night. On the dining table, the woman's smile was still bright and moving. A pair of wrinkled hands supported the sofa cushions to give her body a support. The man slowly stood up and said with a heavy Panting, he sat at the dining table with staggering steps. The moonlight made his white hair shine, and also made the face facing away from it fall into darkness.

Pouring a glass of water, the faceless old man was drinking. Suddenly, his movements were choked...

"Dingling bell~Dingling bell~"

Since returning to Italy, he has always been afraid of receiving strange phone calls in the middle of the night, just like when he was young, he was afraid of the door that he couldn't knock. He looked at the buzzing of the old landline phone, and the sharp ringing aroused his nerves and made him highly nervous. Stretched, he gently put the cup on the table, staggered towards the phone, rubbed his hands on the chest of his shirt, wiping away the cold sweat that appeared the moment the phone rang, slowly stretched out to the receiver, and gently After gently lifting the microphone, he did not put it to his ear. He paused in mid-air for a few seconds, then gradually moved it to his ear. He opened and closed his mouth several times before nervously saying, "Who is it?"

…

After returning to China, he only saw Andrew once, in the cemetery. His wife was buried in the ground at that time. This time, he will meet Andrew again, still in the cemetery, but this time it is Andrew who is buried. myself.

His son is dead, killed in a gang vendetta.

He was shot three times, all three were fatal injuries, two in the chest and one in the cheekbone. Before he was buried, he could not show his face to say goodbye to his relatives and friends. He was just covered with a white cloth and slept next to his beloved mother. , Bonnie stood aside and watched, not crying, not breaking down, just a face ashen as death.

There were not many guests at the funeral, and none of his friends who had been to the cemetery with him came to the scene. This is gang life. They will not mourn for a gangster. When he dies, he loses his value, but the gang only needs Bring his body back and give his family a certain settlement allowance.

The visitors were some of Andrew's neighbors. They did not cry, they were just going through the motions. Amidst the exaggerated praise of the priest's character, they presented flowers in twos and threes and left. Only one girl cried loudly when the first handful of soil was poured on the coffin.

Sarah, Andrew's daughter and his granddaughter, was only thirteen years old. It was obvious that her relationship with her father was so close that she had been preventing others from giving Andrew a decent burial.

Funerals in life are not as calm as those in TV series. There will still be people who break down and grieve, make some irrational actions, and even cry when they mention the deceased many years later. Sara should be such a person. .

Fortunately, Andrew's wife pulled her away and Andrew was able to be buried, but Sara still couldn't stop crying and sat on the ground and cried. This made Bonnie feel sad. If he hadn't killed Torres back then, maybe he would have. Will die in the subsequent gang fight, but even if he dies then, Andrew will probably cry for him like Sarah at this moment. For Bonnie, death will not scare him, a man with bloody hands The only conscience of a person is that people like him deserve to die. He just needs someone, his child to cry for him, and he needs someone to remember him when he dies. That kind of ending is enough to satisfy Bonnie. Instead of letting him watch his child die like this.

He didn't control his steps and walked towards Sara unconsciously. He leaned over slightly, took out the handkerchief from his arms and handed it to Sara. But just when Bonnie thought she was going to take it, Sara slapped her. In his hand, the handkerchief fell off and was stained by the wet soil.

"I know who you are! Get away! Stay away from me. If it weren't for you, my dad wouldn't have joined the mafia. If he hadn't joined the mafia, he wouldn't have died! I hate you! I don't need you to pity me, Get out!"

She was not a well-behaved girl, and a street gangster couldn't raise a well-behaved child. Her hair was dyed in various colors, and she kept verbally attacking Bonnie with a lot of dirty words. Even without Andrew's wife stopping her, she wanted to She stood up and beat Bonnie, an old man in her seventies. She was so aggressive, with sharp eyes like a little tiger. Bonnie looked at her eyes blankly, but instead she scolded her like a child who couldn't hold his head up, hanging down. The head kept retreating.

It wasn't until she was pulled away by Andrew's wife, and the other guests didn't know Bonnie's identity and persuaded him to leave, that the farce in the cemetery stopped.

He was driven away at his son's funeral.

Sara's words kept popping up in his mind, and the pain in his heart began to ripple like a sponge stirred up by the wind. It rippled all the way to the deepest part of his heart. He could only walk not far away to the police car that was cooperating with the burial of the body. He bent his waist, put his hand gently on the window of the police car, and asked in a weak and sad tone.

"Sir, has the murderer of my son been found?"

"Well... we will definitely catch the murderer as soon as possible and seek justice for you. Please rest assured, sir."

The police responded with a guilty conscience and pity. It is difficult to find the murderer in a gang vendetta. Even if they try hard to identify the murderer, when the murderer is found, there is no guarantee that he will be killed by others. It is such a chaos that The most troublesome cases for the police are the criminal activities of the Mafia.

But for an old man who is dying, especially an old man who has lost a child, words that are too far away may bring a greater blow to the few old people at this time. He can only make a promise tactfully, maybe When he said these words, he would feel ashamed inside.

Without further ado, he just took off his top hat, bowed gently to the police officer, and walked away like this. The police no longer paid attention to the old man, and the funeral did not require his arrival. His visit was the same as the autumn leaves falling on the water. The same thing, only causing slight waves in a certain moment.

…

It rains in summer, and dark clouds briefly cover the scorching sun. A warm breeze blows in the drizzle, blowing into the room through the half-open wooden windows, blowing up the gauze curtains and floating in the air. The room is very quiet, except for the long breathing of the old man as he sleeps. The sound is just that the breathing is occasionally mixed with some coughing, which destroys the quiet atmosphere of the evening and the tiredness caused by the white noise of the rain.

He doesn't like sleeping in the bedroom very much, and usually falls asleep on the old sofa. The sound from the TV or radio can make him sleepy, but at the same time, it won't make him feel depressed due to excessive silence.

Soon after, he woke up and took the old watch on the table and the sky to judge the boundaries between sunrise and sunset. His old brain needed more time to wake up. He sat on the sofa and pondered for a long time, then he slowly got up. He made a fist with his right hand in front of his mouth to block the droplets caused by coughing. He picked up a thin sweater and put it on his already hunched body. He couldn't raise his feet, and his slippers scraped against the floor. He walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

It has been a year and a half since Andrew's funeral. He goes to the police station every week to ask if there is any clue about the case, but he is always told that the case is still under investigation.

Even if you use your own methods to find the murderer, for an old guy who has been disconnected from local gangs for thirty years, he will basically get the same result as the police. He is old and really useless. .

Perhaps this was God's will. He did not die on the street, and his children compensated for the numerous crimes he committed. This is retaliation.

It’s just that in more than a year, he began to age at a speed visible to the naked eye. The collapse of his spiritual pillar caused him to lose the last trace of hope in life. He failed to protect his wife and son. He had completely lost his goal in life. Can't find it.

Recently, symptoms such as chest tightness, weight loss, and general weakness began to appear again, which made him realize that he seemed to be sick. After all, old people can sense their own weaknesses more quickly than young people, but he has accepted the fact that he is about to die, and has done Be fully prepared to welcome death.

When the sound of rain stopped, the dark clouds took away the last trace of light hidden behind the mountain. I changed my clothes, carried the clothes and garbage to be washed and went downstairs. I threw the clothes into the public washing machine in the laundry room and flipped through the laundry while waiting for washing. The so-called medical newspapers provided by the house peddled fake medicines and promoted leech blood-sucking therapy to cure all diseases. Occasionally, I would tear up the page in the newspaper where someone else had written the contact information of drug dealers and throw it into the trash. Gradually, my eyes began to have serious symptoms. Shadows, words were copied continuously in his sight, and he began to lose control of his body. He started swaying as if he was drunk, and finally his eyes went black and he fell to the ground.

…

In the hospital, the night is like day. He is wearing a hospital gown, leaning on the hospital bed and flipping through today's fashion magazines. It's not bad. The retro trends popular this year are very similar to the styles that were popular when he was young. They are more revealing than those in previous years. The more fashionable style is much better, it allows him to easily accept this style, just like he easily accepted the fact that he was seriously ill.

"The surgery has been scheduled for the second half of the year. I don't suggest you wait. Your illness won't last that long, sir."

"OK."

"As for the cost of the surgery, it's about four hundred thousand, which is not a small sum. I hope you can prepare as soon as possible."

"Forget it, I don't have that much money, and I don't plan to treat it."

"Well, I wish you good health, Mr. Rossi."

He put the magazine away and put it on the bedside table. He turned over and faced the window, only to find that the rain had started to fall again, heavier than at dusk. Under the illumination of the street lights, he could already see the street in general. , his eyes wandered, trying to find some breath of life by looking down at the street, but late at night, in addition to homeless tents, there were domestic garbage on the street. Drug addicts wandered aimlessly in the rain, doing things from time to time. Make some moves that ordinary people cannot understand.

He is waiting for death like these people, or accepts it calmly like him, or does not speculate about which tomorrow or accident will come first like the following guys. In short, he will die here, having never met these people, but the same soul is festering. The grass and grass together become the bones under this decaying city.

…

"Hey, Bonnie, how are you?"

Last night, the screaming ambulance made a lot of noise. The surrounding neighbors were familiar with each other after living there for so many years. They expressed their greetings to Bonnie who was walking back alone. Of course, that was all. This old man He was not a good person when he was young. Although the neighbors do not know what he has done, people who live a stable life can still feel the breath of evil people, just like a docile deer is naturally sensitive to wolves.

For so many years, no one wanted to get close to him. If he had made a lot of money in the Magnesium country and returned home in fine clothes, there might be women who would try to have sex with him for the sake of money, but he was just so destitute that he returned to this shabby place like a refugee. He is a poor old man who is struggling to make a living in the neighborhood, so he can only be lonely. There are always people who can see him from the window of the opposite house upstairs in a daze alone on the sofa, but still no one takes pity on him. This is what he asked for, but the old neighbors have heard that He had abandoned his wife and children, so when he felt the attack of loneliness, naturally no one came to help him.

After responding to the other party's words, the two of them stopped communicating and walked towards their homes. There was a payment slip for the TV service on the door. It was not expensive for an old apartment, but Bonnie, who was not rich in the first place, never had it. I paid completely, tore off the bill, and only glanced at the name. The envelope was not opened, so I crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the trash can after opening the door. The window was not closed last night, and the rain that fell in had been dried by the sun. There was an obvious water stain on the carpet.

Sitting blankly in front of the sofa, the window was behind the sofa, and the sunlight slanted in, reflecting the shadow of the dust, but cutting the front half of the living room. He was hidden in the darkness, with his back to the sunlight.

At this time, it was so quiet that even the collision between dust seemed to be heard. He closed his eyes and meditated, feeling as lonely as ever. But this kind of loneliness did not mean that no one talked, no one had dinner with him, and no one called him. A comforting phone call came from the messiness that I suddenly discovered after returning home, which I had never noticed before.

He covered himself with the blanket that had been thrown on the sofa. He wanted to fall asleep as usual, but what he was thinking about gave his old brain a hard-won vitality. The things he was thinking about included his future. life, whether to order a coffin for myself, and... On the day his wife passed away, she should be waiting for death alone like him.

He couldn't help but turn his head and look at the dining table under the window. The woman who was probably mad at him was still smiling brightly in the sun. It was just that it had been a long, long time since she was just smiling and not saying another word. .

With complicated thoughts, he held his head in his hands and looked at the ceiling. While brainstorming, there was a sudden movement on the door that had not been knocked for a long time. Subconsciously, Bonnie sat up from the sofa, but did not directly get up to open the door until there was a knock on the door. The sound sounded for the second time.

"Dong dong dong."

The sound of knocking on the door was loud and irregular, like the sound made by the annoying neighbor's child deliberately disturbing his dream. He did not respond to the knock on the door. The alertness he had maintained for many years made him walk to the door barefoot. , turned sideways and looked out of the cat's eye, until a head of colorful hair came into his eyes, and he opened the door unexpectedly.

"Why did you open the door so late at home?"

"Sarah?"

The girl who was less than 1.6 meters tall had a look of dissatisfaction on her face. She pouted and pushed Bonnie blocking the door. She broke into the silence unceremoniously and took out the worn nylon cloth in her hand. Throwing the woven bag on the sofa, he walked directly to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and rummaged through all the edible things.

She looked starving. Bonnie only drank one cup of the one-liter milk. After opening the lid, she drank the milk directly to her mouth, burped, and unladylikely wiped her mouth with her sleeve and poured the milk away. He threw the box back casually, then picked up the toast and stuffed it into his mouth.

Bonnie stared blankly at her devouring her food, and couldn't help but walk over and get closer to see her swallowing her rations for the next few days. After a while, he saw her eating speed slowing down, and then he spoke.

"How did you know I lived here?"

"My dad has your address in his notepad."

"Where's your mother?"

"She was gone when I woke up a few days ago. All the valuable things in the house were gone. She didn't leave me a cent."

She was surprisingly calm, as if she had foreseen this day a long time ago. Her cold tone seemed to be telling a tragic story that had nothing to do with her and had not moved her at all. After all, her mother was not a good family either. Women, good women, have nothing to do with mafia minions.

Chewing the bread, she looked expressionless and stared blankly at the open refrigerator. After swallowing the mouthful of bread, she continued to reach out and rummage for food. Unfortunately, there was not much food left in the refrigerator. She couldn't find anything else. Raw food, she closed the refrigerator door, sat back on the sofa, pushed Bonnie's blanket aside, took out the cosmetics from the bag she brought and touched up her makeup, saying to herself: "I I want to live here for a while, and I will move out if I make some money, and then I will pay you the room fee, and now I owe it to you."

"It doesn't matter. If you have nowhere to go, just stay here and don't ask for rent."

"Oh, that's right. My dad said you owe him. After I find a place to move, we can settle the matter."

She was so understated and nonchalant, applying makeup that should not belong to her age group on her young face. Bonnie looked at her and was speechless for a long time. He didn't understand his granddaughter at all, and at this moment he didn't know whether to be grateful that she was strong enough. , we should still lament her excessive precocity and her calmness that can only be cultivated through suffering.

Her makeup skills are not good, but her appearance is outstanding. Her white ancestry gave her clear facial features and a harmonious head-to-body ratio. Her Chinese ancestry further softened her face and temperament, allowing her to wear a rainbow shawl and long hair. It can also reveal beauty. The classic combination of red lips and snow-white skin is enough for any woman to reveal a trace of femininity inadvertently, even if the child in front of her is only fourteen years old.

She fastened the small mirror that came with the foundation box and threw it into the bag. She frowned, and the baby fat on her cheeks was squeezed to her mouth. The chubby look made this girl with heavy makeup reveal a little bit of her coquettishness and playfulness. .

"Where is my room?"

Bonnie pointed to Andrew's room. She understood and walked in with her only luggage. Bonnie did not go to help and tried his best not to interfere with her private space. He knew that this child hated him. He now All she has to do is try to avoid being disliked by her granddaughter so that she can stay here with more peace of mind. After all, she is really desperate.

…

Sorry, this article is really annoying for me. I wish you all good luck in the New Year and make a lot of money in the Year of the Tiger.