My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

When he realized something was wrong, the hot muzzle of the gun was already pressing against his head.

The flower scarf trembled all over, and his trouser pockets quickly became wet.

Ethan smelled the smell of urine and frowned. He was too lazy to shoot such a coward, so he had to be more humane and send him to the prison to pick up soap.

He picked up the butt of the gun and hit it hard, knocking the flower turban unconscious.

The sound of dense footsteps sounded, accompanied by Siobhan's loud shout: "Brock, are you okay?"

Brock put away his gun: "It's okay, Ethan is here too, come in."

Emmett and Siobhan made fighting stances and walked in quickly from the entrance with pistols in hand.

The Savoie Gentlemen's Club was already in a state of disarray due to a gun battle.

There were several corpses on the ground, and empty bullet casings were everywhere.

There were bullet holes in the walls, in the equipment, everywhere.

It is estimated that without ten days and a half of renovations, the Savoyard Gentlemen's Club would not be able to reopen.

Ethan greeted Siobhan, took the handcuffs she handed over, and locked up the flower headscarf.

As for the wad of cash in his pocket, Ethan wiped it with his hands and disappeared without a trace. This was all considered as Proctor's apology for not providing him with a safe service.

After Emmett and the others were evacuated, the guests and staff in the club hurriedly left the scene.

Jiabo nodded to him and left quickly.

Ethan walked to the side of the dance floor, grabbed Tommy's face and turned it over to look at it.

The shot hit him right between the eyebrows, and he was already dead.

There's no other way, it's better to shoot faster.

An hour later, inside the Savoy Gentlemen’s Club

The shiny black leather shoe stepped on a bullet casing. After crushing it back and forth a few times, it was kicked away by the owner of the leather shoe.

The empty bullet casings clinked to the ground.

This crisp sound also echoed.

At this time, it is absolutely impossible.

The club will be noisy, packed with seats, filled with the cheers of pleasure seekers and the smiles of strippers.

But now, this place is as quiet as a ghost.

Visible to the naked eye, a large number of equipment was damaged. Not counting other losses, the cost of replacing the equipment alone was an astronomical sum.

The crooked spotlight, like a mockery, barely emitted a ray of red light.

The red light shone on the face of the owner of the leather shoes, expressionless.

"Who's taking the lead?"

A sound as cold as frost sounded.

"According to police information, it was Tommy Littlestone. He has been shot dead." Boden took a step forward and said in a deep voice:

"He's Cheton's brother."

Proctor clenched his fists and turned around, his eyes full of murderous intent:

"Even if he is already dead, I will kill him again. This is my warning. This is the price for daring to touch my things."

"clear."

Boden nodded, a flash of light flashing in his eyes.

Rebecca sat on a chair that was still intact and looked at the club quietly.

But the rapid rise and fall of her chest revealed that she was not at peace inside.

Proctor understood her feelings. She had put a lot of effort into this club since he handed it over to Rebecca.

But now all this hard work has been ruined.

"Let's go."

Rebecca raised her head, ignored Proctor's outstretched hand, and said stubbornly:

"I'm going with Boden."

After a moment of silence, Proctor nodded.

Rebecca then grabbed his hand and stood up. She looked back hatefully and left the club with Proctor.

The next day, the back entrance of Banshee Town Hospital.

A brand new Mercedes-Benz was parked under the shade of a tree on the side of the road. After waiting for two hours, Rebecca impatiently took out her cigarette.

As soon as I lifted the lid of the lighter, it was taken away by the person next to me.

Under her stunned gaze, the expressionless Boden stuffed the lighter into his pocket.

Thinking that he was a mysophobia, Rebecca shook her head helplessly.

She simply opened the door and got out of the car, borrowing a light from a passerby.

She didn't expect that going on a mission with Boden would be so boring. She wasn't even allowed to touch the steering wheel. She didn't say a word for a long time, which made her extremely bored.

Just as Rebecca was exhaling smoke, a red van slowly drove up in the distance.

She narrowed her eyes and tapped the car window lightly with her left hand.

Boden raised his head and noticed that the two Indians were driving. Their arms were covered with tattoos of the Redbone Gang. The corners of his mouth turned up.

"Bang."

The door closed, and Boden pointed to the car: "Get in the car and wait, I'll take a look."

Rebecca nodded, threw the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out.

As Boden walked toward the back door of the hospital, Rebecca walked over to the driver's seat with a smile.

She reached out to open the car door and sat in without ceremony.

A few minutes later, Boden hurried back, and the red van in front of him slowly drove out.

Seeing Rebecca sitting in the driver's seat, Boden's face froze and he looked at her numbly.

"Get in the car, what are you waiting for?

Boden squeezed his hands and scowled: "Let me drive, you don't have enough driving experience."

"Believe me."

Rebecca said no more nonsense and reached out to raise the car window.

Looking at the red van going away, Boden had no choice but to walk quickly to the passenger seat, open the door and get in.

"Are you sure they're here to get Tommy Littlestone's body?"

Rebecca asked in a deep voice and started the vehicle.

"Um."

Boden just groaned and said nothing.

With a smile on her lips, Rebecca stepped on the accelerator and followed the vehicle in front to Route 6.

This road is the only way to reach the Chino tribe's settlement, and there are no other roads for several miles.

She glanced in the rearview mirror, turned the steering wheel, and stepped on the accelerator.

The black Mercedes-Benz quickly left the red van behind and continued to drive forward rapidly.

Boden put down the gun in his hand: "What do you want to do?"

"Have some fun."

Rebecca replied casually. She slowed down the car and turned the steering wheel quickly.

The car quickly turned around following the movements of her hands, leaving a few black marks on the cement road before stopping in place.

After a while, the vehicle carrying Tommy's body came into view.

Seeing that the Mercedes-Benz that was behind him just now was now parked in the middle of the road and facing him, the red van also stopped quickly.

Rebecca thought of the club that was badly destroyed, and Mercedes-Benz roared a few times.

The tires also rubbed against the ground crazily, emitting streams of white smoke, like an angry bull.

The red van showed no sign of weakness and responded with its double flashing lights.

Boden looked at Rebecca, who looked excited, and silently fastened his seat belt.

After a period of crazy friction, the two cars rushed toward each other like arrows.

Rebecca gripped the steering wheel tightly and grinned.

The two cars were getting closer and closer, and Boden could even see the pimples on the face of the man driving the opposite vehicle. He nervously held the armrest.

At the critical moment, the driver on the other side could no longer face his inner fear.

His hands moved the steering wheel uncontrollably, and the two cars passed by each other, bringing out a wisp of sparks.

"Bang."

The van suddenly lost control and flipped up out of thin air.