In front of the bar, the neon lights flashed, and the word "BEER" could be vaguely seen, and the two glass doors were tightly closed, dirty as if they had been picked up from a garbage heap, and all kinds of small advertisements were plastered.

Paul pushed open the glass door and walked down a narrow, gray corridor in a dim light.

At the end of the hallway, there is a rotten wooden staircase, with firefly-like lights, stepping on it, making a "crunching" sound, and the handrails are full of greasy dust.

The corridor on the third floor is the entrance to the bar, which is dark and deep, and there is a faint sound of singing and cheering from inside.

Paul walked into the entrance and stood there, trying to adjust his eyes to the environment.

Under the innermost curtain, a male singer was singing a western country song, his eyebrows thick as paint, his freshly dyed red hair as if it were a flame of fire, and his mouth was so wide open that he felt like he was about to swallow Mike.

The bar is close to the door, and there is a woman standing inside, dressed in a colorful T-shirt, with a cigarette in her mouth, settling accounts at the bar, her eyes looking at the customers who walk in at the door from time to time. A black man with a tattoo on his chest, leaning back on the bar, big brown hands, clutching a large glass of beer, tongue licking his lips, never taking his eyes off the woman.

Holding a tray, the waiter in charge of delivering wine swims quickly in it, like a catfish, and his eyes can always find a glass that lacks wine. A woman with heavy makeup, a cigarette between her thumb and forefinger, was busy accosting a guest, wearing a green dress and a large cheap necklace with a slit low enough to see where she shouldn't.

It was dim and smoky, and Paul stood in the doorway, looking left and right, trying to find a suitable spot.

When he found the empty platform in the corner of the wall, and was about to walk over, a man with an Asian face beckoned to him, with a smile on his face, as if it was very familiar.

Paul hesitated for a few seconds, then walked over to him and sat down across from him.

The man who beckoned to him was of medium height, with black curly hair, thick eyebrows as if they had been painted, a scar under his ear, a plaid shirt on his upper body, and a blue tattoo on his arm, which looked like a child's graffiti.

Seeing Paul sit down, he half-got up and beckoned to the waiter, "Hello, Mr. Paul, I'm Grace." What do you want to drink?" the voice and tone were exactly like an old friend.

"Soda with whiskey, thank you. Paul said, immediately knowing that the other person must have seen his photo. "Where's Jenny?"

"Don't worry, take a look at this first. Grace picked up the glass, touched Paul's, drank it dry, and put it down with a relaxed expression. Then, he turned around and took his bag, pulled out a piece of paper, placed it on the table, and gently pushed it to Paul.

Paul picked up the piece of paper and looked at it in the dim light. He was immediately stunned, this was the top-secret data he had delivered to Jenny.

Seeing Paul's expression, Grace was not surprised at all, "Is it fun?"

Paul stared at Grace and whispered angrily, "What the fuck are you trying to do?"

"I miss you and making friends. Grace said.

"You trash!"

Haha, I'm not your average garbage. Grace raised an eyebrow, "If you hand it over to the prosecutor, according to federal law, you will eat no less than ten years in prison." He smashed his lips and continued, "Give it to Ole and you'll be fired in no time." Haha, you're garbage. ”

"I'd rather go to jail than cooperate with garbage. ”

"Nobody is forcing you, baby! Think about it, I don't have much patience. "Think of Jenny, she said she loves you so much, it's better to live than to die now." Annoyed Lao Tzu, click. Grace's palm sawed twice on his neck.

Hearing Jenny's name made it feel like a knife had been plunged into Paul's heart.

"This is my business card, I have it in mind, you can contact me at any time. Grace pulled a business card out of his jacket pocket and tossed it to Paul from the table.

Paul was furious, his face flushed, he slammed to his feet, grabbed his business card, and brushed it away.