My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

Several women's bodies were trembling slightly.

No response.

Only one of the redheads slowly nodded his head to show that he understood what the other person said.

Approaching these women, Ethan examined them carefully.

Confinement, perhaps.

Or perhaps it was half forced and half voluntary. None of these women had serious rope marks on their hands and feet. Although their bodies were bruised and bruised, according to my own experience, these were not caused by violence.

They are all signs of being too rough.

Given the type of video they were filming and what they had just witnessed, some bruising was normal.

It is possible to be controlled.

Sometimes controlling a person doesn't necessarily involve a rope.

Flour, money.

These are excellent ways to control these girls, especially some solitary worms. As long as they have a suck, it will be no problem to make her kneel down and lick her toes.

Ethan stopped talking.

Although the voice is deliberately muffled, there is still a risk of recognition.

There was nothing to see in the room.

After turning around in a circle, he shook his head. This was just a shooting workshop. There would be no money or other things waiting for him to collect. The only valuable thing might be the freshly shot video tapes piled nearby.

With critical thoughts in mind, Ethan grabbed a few and threw them into the space.

"If any of you are being coerced."

Before he walked out of the room, he couldn't help but lower his voice and said hoarsely: "Just stay here, the police should be here soon."

That's what they are.

It's freezing and snowy outside, and running around is more likely to kill someone.

Might as well be safer in the room.

After confirming that no fish had slipped through the net, he quickly left the small building. After cleaning up the footprints outside, Ethan took the branch in his hand and squinted his eyes to look into the distance.

The night was dyed blue.

The siren roared, coming much faster than expected.

Ethan quickly threw it to the branch and quickly got into the old Toyota. After a roar, the vehicle quickly disappeared into the night.

Bunker had no chance to report at all.

Not long after the gunfire rang out, the police station received a call from a passerby.

A shooting incident broke out shortly after the campaign office was attacked. The angry Brock immediately notified everyone and quickly drove to the scene in a patrol car to suppress the incident.

Looking at the unanswered cell phone, Bunker felt anxious.

no way.

He put the phone away bravely.

There was a slaughterhouse in front of him, and we could only hope that the guy had left the scene and not hit him head-on.

Police cars coming from all directions gathered together.

Bunker quickly turned the steering wheel, and the patrol car rushed behind Brock, who was leading the way. Because he supported Ethan's political ideas, the police chief's behavior became much tougher now.

You can't say support verbally, but be soft in reality.

Moreover.

He is the person who will benefit the most from strengthening the strength of the police station.

"Uh-huh!"

Shortly after crossing the railway, the vehicle in front suddenly turned on its brake lights and its locked tires slid forward.

"Shet."

Bunker broke into a cold sweat and hurriedly stepped on the brakes.

With a muffled thud, Brock's vehicle was hit hard by him, and a large piece of the car's butt was instantly dented.

The sound of brakes sounded one after another.

Several patrol cars behind them stopped one after another and swerved to the side.

"Waterfa?"

Siobhan hurriedly got out of the car, looked at the two cars that collided in front of him, and quickly wiped away cold sweat: "What are you doing? Most of the police station's vehicles will almost be scrapped here."

Brock got out of the car in a hurry but had no time to talk to her.

The guy cursed, drew his gun, and rushed to the front of the car, bending down to look underneath.

The people behind hurriedly followed.

Only then did they realize that a white man was lying on the ground. If Brock's car moved forward more than ten centimeters, it could crush his head like a watermelon.

Half of the man's face was swollen and several teeth were missing.

Seeing this situation, the few people behind looked at each other.

Fortunately, the brakes were timely enough.

"Still alive."

Brock released the fingers holding the other person's neck and said with a sullen face: "Call an ambulance. If it had been a little later, this guy might have frozen to death."

"It's a fraternity guy."

Noticing the tattoo on the other person's forehead, Emmet identified the other person and whipped out his gun.

Raven pressed the intercom to call for ambulance backup.

Others took out their pistols and followed Brock as he walked towards the factory building in front.

Bunker was especially nervous.

He was afraid of bumping into Ethan. Excluding Raven behind him, there were a total of five guns here. Be sure not to injure him with random shots.

"Buzz."

At this moment, the phone in his pocket vibrated.

"What's over there?"

Cruz noticed something and quickly motioned for everyone to look in another direction.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Bunker hid behind everyone.

Quietly took out the phone.

On the floating window on the screen, a number abbreviated as M sent a smiling little yellow face.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Jesus."

Brock took two steps forward in shock, looked at the dead naked man lying on his back in the snowdrift, and exclaimed: "What the hell happened?"

"Raven."

The Sheriff grabbed his bald head hard and shouted to the back: "Ambulance, we need more ambulances."

This is already the case outside.

I can't imagine what happened inside.

Turning on the tactical flashlight, a group of people followed the shallow footprints on the ground into the corridor. There was dust everywhere in this place, and they would never miss a place where people often pass by.

Carefully follow the stairs up.

The flickering light and shadow of the tactical flashlight made them hold their breath.

His finger also quietly rested on the trigger.

"do not move!"

The figure above flashed, and Brock shouted excitedly: "Banshee Town Police Department."

"Bang~"

Under high tension, after issuing the warning, he immediately pressed the trigger and fired twice. The whizzing bullets left small craters in the wall.

"Don't shoot!!!"

A woman screamed: "Don't shoot, that person is gone."

A series of playful looks fell on him, and although Brock felt a little embarrassed, he still waved his hand expressionlessly.

The few people behind quickly ran up.

When I got to the top, I found a woman in cool clothes squatting down in fear with her head in her hands.

Arrange for Siobhan to take care of each other.

The few remaining people walked in carefully. The blood stains on the rubber curtain gave them a bad feeling.

Exclamations sounded one after another.

Being shot was already a child's play, and even though he was shocked, he could accept having his neck wiped. But when he saw the man with his stomach cut open, the male police officer Raven couldn't help but rush out of the room and hold on the corner while vomiting violently.

This scene, which looked like the aftermath of a perverted murderer's rampage, also made Bunker's eyes twitch.

He scratched his head and exhaled heavily.