My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

The entire large truck compartment is divided into several parts.

The area closest to the tailgate was decorated like a reception room, and the old woman just now was sitting at the front desk.

The movement in the conference room did not attract her attention at all. Any movement coming from inside was normal.

She leisurely raised a ceramic tea cup and was enjoying the charm of oriental drinks.

The door was opened and the old woman turned her head.

The delicate ceramic tea cup fell to the ground and broke into several pieces.

Looking at the black muzzle of the gun, she swallowed the tea in her mouth with difficulty: "Mr. Morgan, how can I help you?"

Ethan put the shotgun to her head and said sarcastically:

"Don't you ask me if I need something to drink?"

"Feel sorry."

The old woman felt the hot muzzle of the gun and knew that the person inside was in danger, so she apologized with a trembling voice.

Ethan looked at the monitor in front of her. There was another person in the cab in front of the truck.

He pressed the shotgun: "Call the driver over."

The old woman hurriedly grabbed the intercom: "Mr. Colin, the boss has something to say."

"OK."

I saw the man in the cab picked up the intercom and spoke, opened the door and walked towards the back.

Ethan smiled and nodded: "Thank you for your cooperation."

The old woman put down the intercom tremblingly and begged:

"I'm very sorry. I'm just an elderly lady. Can you let me go?"

"Bang."

Ethan was too lazy to talk nonsense with her and blasted her head off with one shot.

He just glanced at the account book that fell on the ground. The lines of names that were crossed out on it represented fresh lives. If he said that it had nothing to do with her, Ethan would never believe it.

On the back of the truck, they modified a small door.

The FBI agent just now was pushed out from here.

The driver quickly opened the small door and walked in. When he saw the old woman lying in a pool of blood, he quickly reached for her waist.

A hand suddenly stretched out from beside him, grabbed his collar and shook him hard.

The driver flew into the air and knocked down the off-road motorcycle parked nearby. He was then shot in the chest and died instantly.

After returning to the living room and searching it to make sure there was no one else, Ethan went to the office area.

Hood was still unconscious, so Ethan picked up the wet towel that fell on the floor and wiped his face a few times.

After some tossing, Hood finally woke up.

When he saw Ethan standing in front of him with a smile on his face, he blinked a few times in disbelief.

Seeing the body on the ground, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Hood gritted his teeth and stood up with the help of Ethan. When he saw Brantley, whose neck was pierced by a cane and nailed to the sofa, he took a breath:

"Shet, how did you do that?"

"Some luck, and some strength."

Ethan shrugged, walked to the wine cabinet next to him, took down a bottle of whiskey, uncorked it and handed it to Hood.

He took the bottle and took a few sips of it hungrily, finally regaining his composure.

"Let's go, there are two more people to deal with."

Ethan pulled out a pistol he had just picked up from his waist and handed it to Hood.

Hood unloaded the magazine, checked the bullets, and immediately fired two shots at the bearded man.

After taking a breath of relief, he staggered towards the back and followed Ethan.

As soon as they got off the car, they got into the woods on the side of the road and kept walking inside.

After walking through the trees for about two hundred meters, the sound of shovels digging was heard from ahead.

The two of them stepped lightly and slowly moved forward.

Special Agent Phillips stood in a rectangular pit about half a meter deep, panting and wielding a shovel.

"Okay, no need to be six feet deep."

The sound from behind made his body freeze.

Phillips turned around, looked at the two people standing on the pit, and said to the man with the gun in a trembling voice:

"Please, killing the federal agent will get you into a lot of trouble."

"Yeah?"

The man holding the pistol was smiling. He glanced at his watch: "Sorry, we are still in a hurry."

After speaking, he raised the pistol.

Phillips' mouth was thirsty and he looked at the gun unwillingly.

"Bang."

"Bang bang bang."

His body trembled violently, and a warm mist of blood sprayed onto his face.

The man who was pointing the gun at him had his chest exploded and threw himself into the pit. Several balls of blood mist also exploded from the other man's body.

The sound of footsteps sounded, and Ethan rushed forward quickly.

He kicked the man Hood had hit into the pit, picked up the double-barreled shotgun, and pulled the trigger.

"Bang."

The sound of a gunshot announced that all the people Brantley had brought were dead.

Ethan put the shotgun on his shoulder and patted the butt with satisfaction.

Phillips couldn't laugh at this time. Looking at the black muzzle of the gun, he raised his hands high.

Hood struggled and pointed the pistol at him for a while, then put it down:

"I didn't kill Racine."

"I know."

Phillips's racing heart calmed down and he slowly lowered his hands:

"I found Racine's body, and there was a female body with him. The gun on her body matched the trajectory of the bullet that killed Racine."

"The female corpse was confirmed to be a wanted killer."

"Then why did you come to me?" Hood gritted his teeth.

"After all, you are pretending to be the police chief, so it is only natural that I come to you, right?" Phillips shrugged again:

"But mostly out of curiosity."

"My job is to investigate missing agents, and I became interested in you after finding your file in Racine."

"Curiosity will not only kill cats, but also people." Hood's expression was complicated. He hesitated again and again, but walked to the pit and stretched out his arms.

Phillips looked at the arm stretched out in front of him and pursed his lips.

No matter who the other party is, it is always right to save one's life. The more senior the agent is, the more he knows how to adapt and will not go on a rampage like a stupid young man.

He reached out, grabbed Hood's arm, and used his strength to get out of the pit.

Ethan was relieved to see the FBI special agent accept Hood's kindness.

Others are also doing it for work. If there is no hatred or resentment, there is no need to go all the way to the dark side.

Phillips walked up to Ethan and stretched out his hand:

"Thank you, I'm FBI, Special Agent Robert Phillips."

"You're welcome, Banshee PD, Ethan Morgan."

Experiencing a life and death crisis together gave them an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

"correct."

Phillips said to Hood again apologetically: "

Before I go to arrest you, I left a copy of your file at the police station. You probably won't be able to play the game of police chief anymore. "

"I suggest you not to go back, but to leave Banshee Town directly."

Hood's expression changed drastically. He didn't expect this to happen.

Ethan was not sure of Phillips' attitude at first, but as soon as he said these words, it proved that he really planned to let Hood go.

"Are you referring to a yellow folder with a blue folder and a box of video tapes inside?"

Ethan lowered the barrel of the gun, and two empty bullet casings popped out.