My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

the next morning.

A knock on the door woke him up, and Baz's voice came from outside the door:

"Ethan, my friend will be here soon, please prepare."

"OK."

Ethan looked at the window, the sky was bright.

He yawned and rolled over to get up. He slept too late last night and was a little depressed.

After taking a shower, I finally woke up.

Since he was going to cross the border illegally today, he put on his boots.

He was also wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a blue shirt. He also took out a peaked cap from the space and put it on his head. Everything was kept low-key.

Diamonds, watches, and the gold-plated M1911 have all been thrown into space.

I didn't bring much luggage, just a backpack with a few changes of clothes.

Carrying a light backpack and walking downstairs, Jabo, who always liked to sleep in, was waiting for him downstairs. When he saw Ethan coming down, he stood up and handed over the mineral water and bread he had prepared in advance.

Stuffing the food into the bag, the two shook hands and bumped shoulders.

Jiabo looked at his appearance with a wicked smile on his face: "I'll wait for you in Oceanside. Don't worry, I'll let Baz and the others arrange the beauty."

"Get lost."

Ethan threw the backpack on his back angrily and stuffed the Glock 17 into his belt.

Outside the house, there was the light of car lights.

Ethan pulled his shirt over his pistol and strode out.

Buzz was standing next to the courtyard, his face looking tired.

After all, they stayed up very late last night and got up early today.

He always had good intentions. Ethan calmed down and bumped fists with him: "Thank you for your hard work."

"fine."

Baz smiled and waved his hand: "Compared with the help you provided, this is not worth mentioning."

Just then, a shabby van stopped in front of them, and a middle-aged Mexican man with a mustache and a straw hat jumped out of the van.

"Buzz."

The Mexican man who got off the van took off his straw hat and hugged Buzz hard.

The two patted each other on the back, and Baz turned around:

"Ethan, this is Sonny."

"Sonny, this is Ethan, a friend of mine. Please help me take him back."

"No problem at all."

The Mexican man named Sonny touched his mustache and stretched out his hand to Ethan: "Baz and I have been friends for a long time, and you will be my honored guest today."

"Thanks."

Ethan shook his hand and nodded his thanks.

"Let's go, time is tight, I saved you the best seat." Sonny said nothing to Baz, turned around and walked towards the car, patting the passenger door.

"I've saved his life several times, don't worry." Baz patted Ethan on the shoulder.

"I understand, thank you."

Ethan waved goodbye to him and Jabber who was standing at the door, and walked towards the shabby van.

He opened the car door and looked at the stained seats and rusty doors, his eyebrows twitching.

At this point, he had no choice but to keep reciting 400,000 in his mind, gritting his teeth and sitting down.

The van quickly started and drove forward.

At this time, the sun has not yet come out, and a flash of fish belly white appears on the horizon.

There was a cough from behind, and Ethan quickly turned around.

The sight before him made his expression change slightly.

What Sonny said was true. The seat that he hated so much was already the best seat.

Inside the van, all the seats had been removed.

Twenty people were tightly packed in the carriage, holding packages in their hands as the carriage swayed.

There were men, women, old and young, all huddled together. On the faces of these people, some were excited, some were confused, but they were all full of yearning for a new life.

Compared with them, where I am now is simply super first class.

The driver, Sonny, held the steering wheel with one hand and picked up a small wine bottle with the other hand. After taking a sip of strong liquor, he lit a cigarette without taking a moment to rest.

Ethan turned around and turned the handle to roll down the window, letting in the fresh morning air.

"Would you like some?"

Sonny glanced at him with a cigarette in his mouth and handed him the bottle.

"No thanks."

Ethan took off the backpack from his back and put it at his feet. The mineral water bottle inside was too irritating.

Anyway, fresh air has been poured in, so Ethan simply took out a cigarette.

"Ding."

The lighter cover opened and a crisp sound sounded.

He lit the cigarette and slowly blew out a puff of smoke out the window. The smoke was quickly blown away by the Mexican morning breeze.

Sonny has been observing Ethan's every move with the corner of his eyes. He knows what kind of person Baz is and who he associates with.

When the bag was put down, it was light and it should only contain some clothes.

Either he offended someone or he was a desperado. After all, he was right. Sonny secretly made a judgment.

After taking a few puffs of cigarette, Ethan slowly got used to the smell in the car.

He pulled out the Glock 17 from his waist and threw it on his backpack. It felt uncomfortable even with the holster on, let alone without the holster now.

One is to make yourself sit more comfortably, and the other is to remind the other person not to have any bad intentions.

Although this man named Sonny has a simple and honest smile, there are a few people who can be smugglers who don't carry human lives. Although he is Baz's deceased friend, Ethan only believes in the gun in his hand.

When Sonny saw the gun, his eyebrows jumped.

But he didn't say anything. He also had that thing, so there was no need to make a fuss about it, and the other party was not an ordinary stowaway.

"Mr. Sonny." Ethan chewed his cigarette:

"Are all these friends going to cross the border like me?"

"Yes, they are all going to cross the border."

Sonny glanced at him and continued: "But they are different from you."

Ethan turned sideways: "Why do you say that?"

Sonny wiped his beard and said with a smile: "At least none of them can afford a good Dupont lighter."

"And without clean clothes like yours, all they have is a slim hope."

Ethan took a look at the clothes he was wearing. Although they looked ordinary, they were exactly what Sonny said. Compared with the people behind him, there was a big difference.

"Don't worry, I was just joking."

Sonny looked at him again and flicked the cigarette ashes out of the window: "They are already very good like this."

Ethan frowned, the people behind him were already like this and still cheering.

Driving was boring, so Sonny simply started talking.

From his mouth, Ethan learned that these latter people were indeed very good in comparison.

Every year, more than one million people travel to Mexico from Honduras, Guatemala, El Salvador and other places to prepare to be smuggled into the United States.

Those people had to spend several days in a dark, damp, smelly smuggling boat before they could reach the southern coast of Mexico.

After they landed, most of their belongings had been confiscated by smugglers.

This was just the beginning. They were still thousands of kilometers away from the U.S.-Mexico border, so taking a train secretly was their only option.

Traveling thousands of kilometers along the way, those people not only had to face gangs and bandits, but also law enforcement officers.

Robberies, fights, and shootings occurred one after another.

The vast majority of people have lost all their belongings before reaching the border and are like refugees.

The people behind the van are ordinary Mexicans. At least they still have their own belongings and do not have to go through the same experiences as those in Central America.

Ethan also nodded. He didn't know anything else, but Salvador knew it very well.

Within the police system, Salvadoran gangs have a great reputation.

After the dilapidated van drove on the road for more than two hours, Sonny turned the steering wheel and led more than 20 people into the mountains.