My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

Daily necessities at home need to be replenished, and food and drink are also in short supply.

After a crazy shopping trip, the two of them walked out of the supermarket pushing a full shopping cart.

Looking at the long shopping list, Rivera was stunned by the summarized prices.

After a trip to the supermarket, one or two thousand dollars is gone.

"Not only do you not act like a town policeman." Rivera put the things in the trunk and asked curiously: "When it comes to consumption, you don't even act like a town policeman."

"Mother Lan, are they paying you well?"

"Enough to eat and drink." Ethan said with a smile: "A little more than the money in your backpack."

Looking at the tiny gap made by his thumb and index finger, Rivera expressed strong disbelief.

Fill the trunk and close the tailgate.

Ethan looked at the Starbucks cafe next to him: "Let's go, take a rest and have something to drink."

After shopping in the supermarket for more than half an hour, Rivera was tired and quickly nodded in agreement.

As he approached Starbucks, Ethan narrowed his eyes.

He slapped Rivera's butt: "I want a regular cup of coffee with less sugar. Please order it for me and wait for me inside."

"I met an old friend, let me say hello."

Rivera plans to settle here in the future, and is full of freshness about everything: "Aren't you going to introduce me to him?"

"People from the FBI." Ethan glanced at her:

"Do you want to get acquainted?"

Rivera shook her head quickly and walked faster into Starbucks.

There were several tables set up facing the street.

A man in a black suit and a man in a gray jacket were sitting under a green parasol, drinking coffee comfortably.

Ethan walked straight to the side, pulled out the chair and sat down.

Seeing the stranger sitting down, the white man in a gray jacket cast a wary look.

The man has short hair and looks to be in his forties.

His temples are already gray, and when he looks at people, his eyes are full of scrutiny.

Ethan smiled at him, then turned to look at the man in a black suit and stretched out his arm: "Special Agent Phillips, long time no see."

The man in a black suit is FBI Special Agent Robert Phillips.

He was the one who found Hood's painful foot before and took Hood away, but was almost buried by Brantley's men.

After Ethan rescued him, he also gave him the credit for destroying Brantley.

The two exchanged phone numbers and everyone was considered acquaintances.

"Ethan Morgan."

Phillips' face was still pale, and his nasolabial folds were particularly obvious. He shook hands with Ethan and said, "It's been a long time indeed."

The same arrest as last time on vacation nearly cost me my life.

The young man in front of him who saved his life and gave him a great contribution left a very deep impression on him.

"What brought you to Banshee Town?"

Ethan let go of his hand and asked curiously: "Did anything happen to any of your agents?"

"No."

Phillips shook his head: "I'm tired of being in the Internal Investigation Team, now I'm going to the Violent Crimes Division for a change."

Although the words are short, the amount of information is huge.

This is also a man with deep connections. It is not easy for everyone to be an old special agent in these positions.

Last time, Brantley's matter was solved quietly, which also proved his strength.

But this is none of Ethan’s business. He rolled his eyes:

"Violent crime? Are you the one who came here to investigate the serial murder case?"

Phillips scratched the bridge of his nose and acquiesced: "A small town police station is like a colander, nothing can be kept secret."

"But based on your previous status, it's not surprising that you know."

Ethan smiled and knocked on the table: "Sorry to bother you, I just came over to say hello."

"It doesn't matter."

Phillips waved his hand to show that he didn't care.

He looked at Ethan who had already stood up: "Sorry, I checked your information."

"I found that you have resigned. Are you interested in coming over to work with me?"

"Thank you. I just left my job not long ago, so I don't have this idea for the time being." Ethan nodded to the two of them, turned around and left.

Whether it hurt him or saved him.

As an old agent, he would definitely investigate his own information. This was human nature, and Ethan didn't take it to heart.

Phillips watched Ethan walk into Starbucks before looking back.

Noticing his old friend staring at him, he picked up the coffee cup:

"Walter?"

"Working with you instead of working for you?"

The white man with gray temples looked at him and asked with interest: "I have never seen you recruit a person like this. What is so special about him?"

Phillips did not answer his question and asked him instead:

"Do you know Special Agent Racine?"

"certainly."

The middle-aged white man nodded: "Although I am in Chicago, I have heard of his name, the legendary agent. It's just a pity that it ended."

Phillips continued, "What about Brantley?"

"What do you want to say?"

The white man raised his eyebrows. Brantley had also committed many murders in Chicago, but he was caught by the old guy in front of him. It was impossible for him not to know that notorious thug.

Phillips took a sip of coffee, put the cup down and said cheekily::

"Racine also recruited the young man just now, and we are all old friends. I am not afraid to tell you that it was with his help that I could successfully kill Brantley."

The white man's curiosity increased and he asked again:

"What's so special about him?"

Phillips raised his finger and circled around: "In this small town, Ethan Morgan has been killed more than 30 times, all of them violent criminals."

The white man smacked his tongue and scratched Lazha’s beard:

"Well, he's a killer, what does that mean, good marksmanship?"

Phillips put down his hand: "Did you look at him just now like a killer?"

"She looks like a college student who has just graduated. She is still very popular with women." The white man thought for a while and made his own judgment.

"There are too many skilled people in the FBI, but people with a heart like his are still rare and are almost unaffected by killing."

Phillips knocked on the table and continued to laugh:

"Could you have achieved such results when you were his age?"

"Hank, I have investigated all his cases and found that he and you have a lot in common."

The white man, Hank, sat up straight and looked like he was listening.

Phillips said seriously: "He is just like you, informal."

"He is evil and evil."

"You don't do things according to routines, and you still have extremely strong combat capabilities."

"Although the ability to analyze intelligence has not been demonstrated, judging from the ability shown so far, he is an extremely good hammer."

"I trust your judgment."

These comments were undoubtedly talking about himself. Hank smiled and continued:

"From what you say, he is an excellent combat police officer."