"I'm a businessman, not your personal driver......"

From the moment he got into the car, Joe Tasker was full of complaints. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info Patrick knew he was going a little too far, but he had paid him a lot of money, and it was madness that called him instead of him, so he wasn't going to listen to Joe's complaints.

"It's dangerous for you guys to do this," Joe warned again, it seemed that two people in the passenger seat had violated his bottom line, "If you are stopped by the traffic police and have an accident, you will be responsible." ”

"Shut your mouth and just drive well. ”

"Please, who's begging who......" Joe wasn't going to listen to him, "So, what are you doing in the slums?"

"Think for yourself, you don't know well. Patrick ruthlessly put an end to the conversation.

"Cut ......"

They didn't talk any more along the way, and when they reached their destination, Joe didn't stop.

The second time I came to this place, it was still different if I paid close attention. In the seemingly lively and laughing market, you can see some people with blatant guns. The kind of person with tattoos on his entire arm is undoubtedly the lowest thug in the gang.

No sudden shootouts or anything like that were already counted, Patrick thought to himself. Probably the gangsters in the slums have divided their respective areas, although they are opposed to each other, but it is not good to take the lead, after all, there are many competitors, whoever tears the skin first, who will take the loss, and face the danger of being surrounded and suppressed by other gangs every minute.

"On the right, we have to go to 1928 Street. ”

A long staircase with a stone floor that has an Italian feel to the street. The name of this street in 1928 is not a government name, nor a street that has existed since 1928, but the name of the gang leader who governs the area.

In addition to the flowery girls standing at the corner of the street, there are also people in black suits, each armed with a short assault rifle of active modification, it is hard to imagine what these people can be other than gangsters, but as a gangster in the slums, it is a little more extravagant.

Patrick was thinking about whether he should first remove all the weapons from his body in order to avoid unnecessary trouble.

"Stop," and sure enough, they were stopped, "who are you?"

"Friends. Patrick replied that it was too late to lay down his weapon.

The black man who stood in the way glanced at Patrick, then at G41, and nodded thoughtfully. After making eye contact with his companion, he turned his head and motioned for Patrick to let them in.

"Hah, we've got our own passes. Maniacally laughed.

Patrick touched G41's head knowingly, and the latter was still in the dark, blindly enjoying the compliment of his master.

Following the madness, Patrick and G41 walk into a nondescript old-fashioned pub named Moses' Bar, which doesn't seem to have any special meaning. But even in the middle of the day, the business of this bar is good, and there are many young ladies and ruffians in the shop, telling meat jokes and drinking in large gulps.

Their intrusion seemed too abrupt, and the bar fell silent all at once, all eyes locked on the two of them, and several strong men who were drinking had already quietly reached for the rifles on the table.

They're not here to make trouble. Patrick patted G41 on the shoulder and shook his head.

"Put all the guns away, and we'll lose," dissuaded a fat man with a full beard, who looked more sophisticated than anyone else drinking, "This kid has a tactical human form, and I'm afraid we're all going to be finished if we just make a move." ”

After listening to the words of the seniors, the juniors of the gang all took their hands back again, but their eyes still stayed on these two uninvited guests.

"Face, a drink?" asked the fat uncle, who was sitting alone at the bar, and asked the bartender for another beer.

Patrick wanted to refuse, he had never drunk in his life, but Madness secretly told him that it was better to accept the wine, and he was not willful here.

"Thank you. Patrick picked up his glass and drank it down.

"May I ask what your Excellency is visiting, what are you doing?"

"Is your boss here?"

As soon as this remark came out, it was particularly harsh in the quiet of the bar, and Patrick immediately realized that he had said the wrong thing.

"Don't move!" the fat uncle shouted again, this time not only to stop the gang, but also to warn Patrick.

That's why I hate, damn socializing.

"Big sister, you're looking for you!" shouted the fat uncle.

Footsteps coming downstairs immediately sounded on the wooden staircase, and it seemed that the person they were looking for had been listening upstairs for some time.

There was a "whoop", and no one was seen, and the minions in the bar all stood up neatly.

The orange-and-yellow fingerguffed hand pressed the hat and a cigarette in his mouth, but Patrick could still see the gray-haired red-eyed tactical humanoid from the bottom-up view. The M1928 Thomson submachine gun, the famous Chicago typewriter, and its mafia background, both in appearance and behavior, reveal a crisp and hearty underworld killer style.

"Keep drinking yours," Thomson pushed his sunglasses, "I'll be more eye-catching the next time I see them, you know?"

It was more of an order than a permit, and the people in the bar sat down again and resumed their conversation.

"G41 and her master? Let's go upstairs and say. ”

Thomson led them to a conference room-like room, where a very large log table was clearly not suitable for a mere three people, so they sat down on the couch. One of the gangsters brought a glass of whiskey with a whole block of ice and placed it on the coffee table in front of Thomson.

"Welcome to the territory of the 1928 Union, I am the Acting President, Thomson. ”

"Agent?"

"Yes, I'm not fit to be the boss, and the title of Acting is more suitable for me. "The union is mainly to maintain order in the territory, and then to do something about the olive oil business." ”

So the boss or the commander?

"Long time no see, Thomson. ”

"The voice is...... Crazy?"

"Yo ho, you haven't forgotten that I've become an AI. ”

"Of course, I liked you kid a lot at the time, how could I forget it casually. Thomson smiled, "So, if you don't have anything to do, what do you want to ask for here, boss?"

"We're looking for a guy named Visa Kakinovski, and we're going crazy to find out that he's hiding in some gang in this ghetto, do you know something?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know," Thomson said, "the news between the gangs is that the blockade is dead, and we don't know the inside story of the other gangs." ”

Tut...... Is the clue broken again?

"Then let's set up a bureau and catch this big fish!"

"It's too troublesome to set up a bureau or something, so it's better to go to war directly. Thomson said.

"War?" asked Madness, his tone excited.

"yes, you might as well make a deal, madness. Thomson said, tossing the cigarette butt into the ashtray, "You want the guy named Visa, and I want to rid the other gangsters in the slums." ”

Is it a war with all the gangsters? This big sister is really straightforward enough, but it also saves Patrick the trouble of investigating one by one.

"Deal. ”