Touch.

When Weekend and Derek closed the door and sat back in the car, the two of them fell into silence, and that silence suppressed anger, at least judging by the faces alone, the two of them were likely to find someone to fight in anger.

"Who can tell me what happened?" Christina asked.

Derek leaned on the car window and leaned on his head and said, "Evan Busdale's criminal syndicate actually used a seven-year-old girl to sell drugs, and the person who introduced this little girl to the drug trafficking organization turned out to be an eleven-year-old boy. She doesn't know even the most ordinary arithmetic problems, but she can casually tell the price of a complex drug deal. ”

“WHAT？” Christina stared at Qiē in disbelief, even though he lived in a black neighborhood.

"What's even more outrageous, you know, the reason this little girl joined was just because her parents didn't fulfill her desire to buy a Barbie doll, and when we asked her why she counted it, she replied, 'Because she won't get beaten.'"

Empty.

Christina leaned forward and leaned back against the backrest as if she had lost control, as if she had been evacuated by someone.

"A Barbie doll can make a child think that this is the trajectory of an adult's life and think that they are beaten because they have done something wrong." Derek grieves for the present of these children.

Christina thought for a long time before she spoke: "Who is responsible for their future?" Having experienced this at such a young age, how can they step into this already unfair society to earn $10 an hour, a salary of about $3,000 a month when they grow up? ”

Gangsters, not only the community, but also every member of the gang has lost the possibility of returning to normal society, maybe the wages that the gangs give to their subordinates will not make these people wear gold and silver, but the money is enough for him to show off in front of other migrant workers.

This is a money society, in which money is used to destroy people's will and the instinct to move towards the light.

"Send me back to the bureau." Derek leaned back on the back of his seat as well, thinking something that no one knew.

After opening the car door and going home on the weekend to change into his police uniform, he started the car, and his mind began to change for the first time.

Is it really a life?

Without dreams, can you really do anything for the money in your pocket to thicken again and again?

So what does the world want the truth for? What is the purpose of pursuing the truth?

There is no faith on the weekend, and I don't think that the mystical faith can solve any problems, and the pale reality always makes people think painfully in powerlessness, and in the end, all ideas fall through.

Dropping off Derick at the police station, he drove the car to District C on the weekend, and whenever he passed by the streets with the most gangsters in District C and saw the crowds of black people doing nothing on the side of the road, his brain, which was still thinking about philosophical questions, suddenly understood why the police in the United States were so violent. Because sin doesn't grow in the sun, the world seen by the cops who commit violence against gangsters is not the world seen by ordinary people.

The weekend didn't say that it was right to do this, he just figured out why the police in the United States appeared in the statistics of the number of cases fatality rate as high as '400 people/year', it is this kind of gloomy life that wears out the hope in the eyes of the police, in the eyes of the police, these people have no hope, even if they are caught in prison, they will just become more powerful criminals after they come out.

"Zhou, stop."

The car was parked on the street, and Christina sat in the car and said to the weekend, "We have to talk." ”

"Don't."

Christina didn't let Cristina continue on the weekend, and she spoke first: "Don't spoil my last good impression of you." ”

"Don't talk about how hard your life is, how hard it is to be a mother."

"Believe me, I thought about these questions for you yesterday. But...... I've always had a concept in my head that I can't break, Christina, do you know what your charm is? ”

Christina smiled and asked self-deprecatingly, "Do I still have that thing?" ”

"You have."

Weekend turned to look at her: "You reveal an open-minded outlook on life, with this outlook Christina can make jokes and swear with rough men at the police station, but this will not affect the quality of a person." Maybe when you are at a low ebb, you will also want others to tell you that you lack money, lack of time, and lack of your own life, but you will always make people feel that it is better to add this, but the old lady is still awesome without this. ”

"Right now, you're looking at what you're doing? You've made a mess of yourself. Worst of all, you implicated me without knowing it. Don't call me selfish, everyone will be the first to think about themselves. ”

Christina waited for the weekend to finish all the words, she looked at the weekend and didn't know how to shake the words and said a classic sentence in ordinary language: "Wow, I didn't think you were such a good talker, but Zhou, I'm just an ordinary person, a human being, I can resist anything but temptation." ”

Next, Christina recounted a thing that she didn't know about the weekend without any personal feelings, and when she saw the money, she felt like she saw Daxter who could communicate with her naturally in the future.

Listening on the weekend, listening to how Christina was threatened at her doorstep, listening to Hans's address, she had countless opportunities to kill the other party, but finally chose to give up......

"We're sorry for dragging you in."

“FUCK－YOU。”

It is very strange that when he listened to these words over the weekend, the scolding was not as straightforward as the first time, and in the absence of any fault on his part, this scolding was unbearable to smash out, but seemed weak.

“YE，FUCK－ME。”

Two policemen sat in a police car on the street of the black neighborhood, silent.

Tick, tick, tick.

On the streets of the black quarter, the priest, who had just walked a few steps out of the fried chicken restaurant, suddenly heard the phone ringing, and when he took it out, the other party only said one word.

"Die!"

The priest looked up vigilantly, and on the streets of the black quarter, two Latinas were pulling something out of his arms, and at that second, the priest's first reaction was to lower his body and shout at the same time: "Omar!! ”

Touch!

Touch!

Touch!

Two Latino Mexicans took out their pistols and ignored the flow of people, aiming at Evan Busdell, who had just walked out of the store, and fired directly, the bullets made a muffled 'bump, bump' on the body of the car on the side of the road, and the glass of the fried chicken shop appeared bullet holes under the shuttle of stray bullets, and the street crowd began to bend down to find cover or lie directly on the ground at the same time as Bruno once said at the police station, and for a while, the streets were extremely chaotic.

The suicide attack of the two Mexicans ended quickly, and the magazines of the two guns were almost instantly depleted, at this time, the two Mexicans did not change their magazines on the spot like mercenaries and continue to attack, but turned around and ran.

"They're out of bullets, don't let them run away!"

Omar shouted, and several black men ran forward with pistols in their hands, and five or six black people also emerged on the back street corner and near the church, and these black men were actually chasing in the same direction with guns.

Omar stood in the street and shouted at the priest who had not yet straightened up and was still holding his body down, "What am I talking about?" What do I say!! ”

"We should take advantage of the Mexicans to sweep them down under the pressure of the police, instead of waiting for them to kill you."

"Father, if you say a word, as long as you say a word, I will immediately lead people to rush into the Spanish-speaking area and tell them that if you make up your mind to move the king, you can't miss it!"

The priest is also a human being, and he straightens his waist with a wooden face at such a moment, how can he make a decision immediately.

"Omar, huh?"

The person who was still squatting on the ground just now and trembling turned around, there was no panic in his firm eyes, and even the turn from squatting to kneeling looked so militar, almost when the soles of his feet twisted his body hard, he had already pulled out his pistol and appeared there in a kneeling position.

Omar, whose name was called, turned around and turned his pupils dilated, and he saw a man crouching across from him, holding a gun with a black hole in the muzzle.

Touch.

The black hole spits out tongues of fire.

Burst.

Before he died, Omar heard a very strange sound, when the skull bones were cracked, and then there was a strong impact, and he didn't even have a chance to stumble backwards, and fell directly to the ground.

Empty.

The mountain-like body lay on the ground, and the blood hole in the head was gushing blood, and the blood flowed from the high to the low-lying tear ducts, and finally dripped down the earlobes on the cheeks.

Omar is dead, and the last image in the visual cache and the mind of the not fully dead brain is - a clear sky, white clouds drifting into the distance.