My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

It's not just Brock.

Exclamations and comments echoed around. There was no way, no normal person had ever seen such a terrifying scene.

Ethan understands his current identity very well.

He stopped outside the cordon. He didn't want his domineering reputation to spread before he became the mayor. Now that he was a civilian, he still had to pay attention to certain things.

"come in."

Brock looked around and found that Ethan was not following, so he quickly waved and said: "Maybe we need your experience!"

The other person was a police sergeant in Chicago.

That was Sin City, and the complexity and difficulty of facing criminal situations were not comparable to Banshee Town.

It is equivalent to further education.

Asking him for help is actually a matter of course.

Many communities in conservative towns in the United States even have autonomous security forces. They do not need the police to intervene in their affairs at all, and disputes are resolved internally.

"Need not."

Ethan shook his head and lit the cigarette: "There is no need to check at all."

"Obviously he was dragged to death."

The man who was tied to the tree trunk by the iron chain, after getting closer, he could see clearly his appearance. He was the director of the strip club in the town who asked him to pay tens of thousands of dollars to escape.

The skin and flesh were damaged where the chain was strangled.

It was obvious that the man struggled desperately before dying.

The ankles of the next pair of legs were tightly tied with a thumb-thick hemp rope, and there was no doubt that something had dragged them into two pieces.

This was not an accidental homicide.

It's a warning.

A warning to belong to the Aryan Brotherhood.

Regardless of whether he was related to the gang that robbed the strip club or not, if he didn't work hard to protect the fraternity's property, but had other intentions, then he would be dead.

And those who dare to make decisions about the Brotherhood will also die.

It is an internal warning.

It was also a message sent to those who took action against the Brotherhood, regardless of whether those people could receive it or not.

About that.

It was also quickly deduced by Brock.

Although the tattoos on the man's body were burned to pieces with a welding torch, the swastika could still be vaguely identified. The man was the manager of a strip club, and the police chief was no stranger to him either.

After all, he still went there for fun occasionally.

later.

Bunker looked at the other party's burned skin and couldn't help but touch his chest.

His face suddenly became extremely gloomy.

After some communication, the identity of the deceased was quickly confirmed. Brock also knew that there was nothing to investigate. He knew with his ass that this was an internal punishment method of the Aryan Brotherhood.

"damn it."

He scratched his bald head and ordered Cruz: "Put the person down and restrain yourself!"

He finished explaining to the female town police officer with an ugly expression.

Brock turned around and walked toward the people standing not far away with a livid face.

Several people behind him quickly followed.

A group of people aggressively approached the location where several members of the Brotherhood were, and Ethan followed him with a cigarette in his mouth and one hand in his pocket. It was also time to meet Watts and get to know this person's character.

Facing several town police officers who were walking quickly, this group of white supremacists showed no fear.

Tattoos on the body belong to personal freedom.

Just watching.

Can you still catch yourself because of this?

This is the case in this country. Even if you know who I am, you can't take action against me without substantial evidence. If the procedures are not in place, I can still find a lawyer to sue you.

To put it another way.

The United States can also be regarded as a paradise for crime!

"Mr. Watts."

Brock tightened his cheeks and stood in front of the tall white man: "The man tied to the tree over there seems to be a companion of you guys, right?"

"Why don't I see any sadness on your face!"

"No!"

Watts spread his hands in surprise and said with a puzzled look on his face: "Master Sheriff, why are you saying this? What makes you think he is my companion just because I have the same skin color?"

"Then you are also my companion, right?"

"呲~"

Several people nearby chuckled.

As the laughter rang out, the disdainful eyes of the group of people fell behind Brock, and they all stared at Bunker unkindly.

He also raised his eyebrows provocatively at the tree trunk behind him.

The meaning is obvious.

This is a warning to him that this may be your fate.

"Farke."

Bunker excitedly pulled out his baton and rushed forward with a roar: "You bastards, you can do such a thing and you can still watch here."

"Curt."

Emmett stopped him quickly, his thick arms tightly hugging him and dragging him back: "Don't be impulsive!!!"

"I'm scared."

Watts took a step back in horror and looked at Brock teasingly: "Master Sheriff, are your men trying to beat me for no reason?"

"Believe me."

"I will sue your police department until it goes bankrupt!!!"

Brock lowered his face and waved his hands heavily: "Pull him out of here."

Pulled by Emmett and Siobhan, the angry Bunker was quickly taken away. With so many people watching, he couldn't do anything out of the ordinary, as it would only cause trouble.

"Stop the nonsense."

The Sheriff of Banshee Town firmly grabbed his duty belt and gritted his teeth: "The strip club was robbed. Are you punishing it?"

"With such a corpse here, who do you want to show it to?"

Faced with this question, Watts ignored it at all. He turned his head and looked at Ethan, showing a smile: "Hello, Mr. Morgan, nice to meet you."

"How happy are you?"

Ethan bit his cigarette and puffed out a puff of smoke.

Watts was a little stunned by Duotou's question. According to normal logic, the other party should be polite to him in the same way!

Subconsciously.

He thought about how happy he was.

"I mean no harm to you."

The guy quickly reacted and the smile on his face became very forced: "Please believe me, Mr. Morgan, there may be some misunderstanding between us."

"If you have a chance."

He spread his hands and said seriously: "Actually, we can sit down and have a good chat."

"Actually, we all have the same skin color."

"We should be friends, what do you think?"

"oh?"

Old God Ethan was smoking a cigarette on the ground and pointed forward: "The pigs in Dave's farm are quite white. I didn't expect them to be your friends. Mr. Watts, your hobby is a bit unusual."

In America, don't curse a dog when you curse people.

Maybe those guys thought you were praising him.

Pig is definitely an insult.

"Pfft~"

Brock couldn't help laughing when he saw Watts' face turning blue and white.

"correct."

Ethan looked at Brock again and asked curiously: "Did a litter of rats die last night? It seems that the death was much more tragic than that of the person next to me. Damn it, it seems that I was bitten by three of the rats."