My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

"You can't do this, I'm the one who was attacked."

Proctor was immediately furious. He was almost beaten to death and even arrested. Is this what these bastards did?

Brock ignored him and used his hands hard.

"Click."

The handcuffs were securely locked around Proctor's wrists, restraining him.

"Oh oh oh."

Jackson stepped forward quickly and looked at Brock in disbelief: "Lost, Walter?"

"Hood started the attack and my client was acting in self-defense."

Seeing Hood's bruised nose and face, Brock replied in a fierce tone:

"You go to court and say these words. Now stay away from me, or I will cuff you too."

Jackson knows that those in uniform have their own blue wall rules and will support their colleagues almost unconditionally when on the scene.

He wisely took a few steps back, took out his cell phone and called the district attorney. This was what he should do now.

"Do not be afraid."

After Proctor glared at Hood viciously, he looked at Rebecca, who was wearing a white dress: "You stay here, keep an eye on the renovation progress, and take care of the business."

"Call Boden to come back as soon as possible. I'll be fine soon."

Rebecca nodded silently, taking Proctor's words to heart, and cast a hateful look at Hood.

She couldn't understand why her uncle was arrested despite being the one who was attacked.

Proctor was quickly escorted away, and the club that had been filled with gunshots just now became quiet, even quieter than last night.

Rebecca looked around at the club, which was full of debris and looked like a construction site, and her body swayed.

Soon she stood firmly again, her eyes becoming firm.

At Banshee Town Police Station, Ethan came out of the toilet, washed his hands and returned to his seat.

Emmett and Siobhan also finished their patrol for the day and returned to the police station.

"Ethan, I thought you went there too?" Siobhan loosened his belt.

"where to?"

Ethan was confused and took out two tissues to wipe his hands.

"Sava had an accident again. Brock passed by and we thought you were with him."

Emmett replied and grabbed the radio:

"Brock, what's going on now? Do you need support?"

"nailed it."

Brock said in a strange tone: "We are on our way back to the police station."

"us?"

Siobhan raised his finger and pointed at a few people present to see who else could be with him.

"Okay, drive carefully." Emmett shrugged and put down the radio.

Ethan picked up the cup and took a sip of coffee.

On the bench outside the Sheriff's Office, there were several people sitting. These people came to the police station to handle related matters. He didn't pay attention at first.

But after seeing one of them, he got up and walked over.

"I remember you came here last time to interview for the position of police officer, right?"

The man in front of him was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, sitting upright, and had a mohawk on his back. Ethan was still somewhat impressed by him.

He sat alone in the corner of the bench. The reason was simple. The swastika tattooed on this man's face made people afraid to approach him.

"Yes, Officer Morgan."

The man with a resolute face stood up and said unhurriedly: "My name is Curt Bunker."

"Sit down."

Ethan waved his hand: "How do you know my name?"

"This is a small town."

Bunker nodded and sat down; "And many people in town know about Officer Morgan."

"What's the matter with you coming here?"

Ethan took another sip of coffee: "It's still about job hunting."

"Yes, officer."

Bunker's eyes were firm: "I will prove myself. Although it will take some time, I am mentally prepared."

"Okay, just wait."

Ethan shook his head and was about to turn around and leave. He didn't even know if Hood would come to the police station again.

"Bang."

The glass door of the police station was pushed open, and Brock grabbed Proctor's arm and brought him in.

Proctor's nose was bruised and his face was swollen, and the white shirt underneath his clothes was stained with blood.

Hood, who was still talking about it just now, followed closely behind.

He looked even worse than Proctor, the corners of his mouth were swollen, and he was holding an ice pack on his cheek.

Ethan and the others looked at each other, and all looked at Brock with questioning eyes.

Brock shook his head, opened the temporary detention room, pushed Proctor in, and then slammed the iron door shut.

Wait a minute, isn't Sava being attacked? How to lock up Proctor.

Siobhan's mind was a little confused, and Proctor kicked the bed inside with an angry look.

"It is clear."

Emmett rubbed his nose and said, "It was the Sheriff who had a conflict with Proctor in Savoy."

Not knowing what was going on, Emmett cleverly used the word conflict to describe it.

Soon, the glass door was pushed open again.

"This is much more serious than harassment. I have many witnesses who can prove that it was you who shot my client."

Jackson walked in waving his hands and roared throughout the police station:

"You're committing murder."

"Shut up, or I'll throw you out." Hood didn't want to do it anyway, so he went up to him unceremoniously.

"Is there something wrong with your mind?"

The roar this time belonged to District Attorney Alison Medin. It was hard to imagine that such a huge voice could erupt from such a small body.

Alison walked straight to Hood, her anger visible to the naked eye:

"What on earth are you thinking, do you know how detrimental this is to our prosecution?"

Although Proctor was released on bail after paying a huge bail in the previous case, other charges could continue to be filed against him in the future.

Now that Hood has done something like this, Jackson can easily invalidate all the evidence previously searched by the Banshee Town Police Department.

Hood naturally understood what she was thinking, but he also didn't care.

As long as everyone else left, he would shoot Proctor in the holding cell tonight.

So he shrugged and said to Alison, "Whatever you say, I don't care."

He left Alison stunned on the spot, threw away the ice pack, and strode to the detention room, holding the iron cage with both hands, with no concealed murderous intent in his eyes.

After a few simple conversations, everyone now understood what was going on.

Brock spread his hands towards Ethan and shrugged.

At this moment, a car engine roared and it quickly approached the police station.

The dim street outside was brightly illuminated.

Ethan looked outside through the window glass, his pupils contracting sharply.

The sound of brakes sounded one after another, and more than a dozen cars of various types surrounded the police station.

The people in the car jumped out one after another, all with guns in their hands.

Ethan's eyes quickly glanced at the red button on the glass door. He used his arms to slam the cup in his hand towards the red button.

While throwing the cup, he roared:

"Everyone get down."