That's right.

Two fists are hard to beat with four hands, and heroes can't stand up to many people.

The people in Andreas's bar believed that there were so many of them that if each of them spat on them, they could drown these two Chinese guys.

How can the Chinese be allowed to run rampant on the territory of Germany?

But they forgot that there were always only a few people who really fought against Dewey and the old donkey.

In the face of the swarming crowd, Dewey and the old donkey did not change their faces, and the two of them punched and kicked the left and right, but everyone who attacked them was beaten to the ground.

No one is one-size-fits-all.

"Shoot, shoot!"

Stephen shouted loudly, but his voice was drowned out by the loud shouts and the sound of passionate music, and few could hear it.

Even if he could hear a few people around him, he didn't dare to actually shoot.

Everyone is mixed together, they can't shoot at all, and if they don't get it, they will accidentally injure their own people.

"Get out of the way, I'll come!"

A tall, burly white man rushed up, his fists clenched in front of his chest, and his feet changed his steps, looking like a professional boxer.

Those who frequent the bar know him, a professional black boxer who has won eight straight games in Germany's most famous underground boxing stadium.

"Mark is here, he's sure he can do it!"

"Mark, what did you do just now, why did you come here?"

"Mark, get rid of that Huaxia guy!"

There was a cheer from the crowd, and the black boxer, Mark, jerked back, and then a sharp and swift straight punch, with a whistling fist, blasted towards Dewey.

As a professional black boxer, the timing of Mark's punch is very accurate, just as Dewey has just knocked down an opponent, and his center of gravity is still unstable, whether it is a hard block or a dodge, he will stand unsteadily and fall.

And Mark believes that this little Chinese sissy, even if he stands firmly, he will definitely not be able to block his 400-pound punch.

Sure enough, Dewey didn't take it hard, and dodged sideways, and just as Mark had imagined, he couldn't get to his feet and fell to the ground.

"Haha, see you're not dead!"

Mark was overjoyed and ready to use his unique stunt to jump and strike.

This move, which is unrivaled in the underground boxing arena, uses the power of the jump, combined with his whopping weight of up to 100 kilograms, all of which is concentrated on the knees, and only one blow can crush the opponent's chest.

However, just as he was about to jump, Dewey on the ground slammed the bar, slid out against the ground, and kicked Mark on the left ankle.

Even if it is strong, the lateral malleolus is one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body, with little muscle protection, and the fibula, which is attached to it, is thin and long, making it difficult to resist heavy blows.

Click.

There was a subtle cracking sound, and Mark only felt a pain in his outer ankle, and even if he was as strong as him, he couldn't help but snort.

Fractured!

Mark knew something was wrong, and his years of martial arts experience had taught him that if he fell at this time, he would probably be greeted with death.

He tried to grit his teeth to hold on, but Dewey didn't give him a chance, and his palms rolled over violently, taking advantage of the momentum, and slammed his fist on Mark's temple.

Mark is a heavyweight fighter with his body on the sway, and this punch didn't knock him out as Dewey imagined, but it also made him stunned.

Dewey didn't give him another chance, and another fist slammed into his jaw.

Mark's body shook, and under the incredulous gaze of everyone, he fell backwards and hit the floor hard.

Hiss –

A gasp sounded.

No one thought that Mark, who was known as the best player in Andreas's bar, would be knocked down by a bang.

The people who had just been shouting to rush forward all stopped, and instead of continuing to rush forward, they retreated.

It's a good thing for Stephen, who finally has a chance to shoot.

He hid in the crowd, raised his pistol, and aimed it at Dewey.

Bang!

The gunshots rang out suddenly, but Dewey stood unharmed, while Stephen clutched his hands and screamed miserably.

Blood was pouring from his palms, and there were two severed fingers on the ground, one of which was still unconsciously hooking.

The sound of gunfire alerted the Germans, who reached into their arms.

It's the biggest speakeasy in Düsseldorf, and almost everyone pulls out a gun.

Seeing that the situation was not good, Dewey and the old donkey quickly jumped up and climbed over the bar.

Just as their figures disappeared under the bar, chaotic gunshots rang out, and the bar was all shot holes, and the wine on the wine rack was shattered into pieces.

Paul and another bartender, also hiding under the bar, saw the two of them jump in, and hurriedly reached out and touched their waists.

Before they could take out their guns, Dewey first took out two pistols from his arms and pointed them at their heads, and the two immediately did not dare to move again.

The old donkey crouched over, knocked one down with one punch, and seized their guns.

The gunfire outside the bar finally stopped, and the old donkey and Dewey exchanged glances, and suddenly stood up at the same time, and opened their bows left and right with both hands at the same time, and opened fire on the men who were shooting in front.

The screams were accompanied by the sound of gunshots, and when the two of them shot empty bullets and retracted back to the bar, the people with guns in the front row all covered their arms and kept shouting, all of them were injured in their arms and could no longer hold guns.

It's still that Old Donkey and Dewey don't want to go on a killing spree, otherwise these people would be dead by now.

If too many people die, they will definitely be hunted down by the German mafia.

Although in the eyes of the hidden dragon, the mafia, which is far inferior to the terrorists, is just a rabble, and Dewey and the old donkey are not afraid, but now everything is mainly about chasing high cannons, and there is no need to provoke these unnecessary troubles.

The accurate marksmanship of the two made the mafia outside tremble, and some even retreated and quietly retreated outside the bar.

The DJ on stage was so frightened that they turned off the music, and the strippers had already jumped off the stage and ran away.

Although the others were still standing in place, no one dared to shoot again.

The purpose of the warning was achieved.

The old donkey grabbed Paul, slapped him twice, woke him up, and said in a cold voice, "Come with us." ”

Paul didn't dare to resist anymore, but said, "This is Andreas's bar, you can't leave." ”

"Hehe, where we want to go, no one can stop us." The old donkey sneered nonchalantly.

Paul certainly didn't believe that in his seven or eight years at Andrias' Bar, no one had been able to leave here safely, let alone shoot and wound so many people.

The old donkey, without explaining to him, bowed his mouth at Devenu, and the two of them, Paul and the other bartender, stopped them in front of him, and retreated behind the bar.

Paul and the bartender turned white with fright, and waved their hands desperately at the crowd, shouting, "Don't shoot, don't shoot." ”

No one fired, but not because they were afraid of accidentally injuring them, but because the gun in the other hand of Dewey and the old donkey was facing them.

No one knew if it would be themselves who would be shot next, so they just watched them and retreated to the back kitchen.

The people in the back kitchen only knew that there was a fight outside, and they didn't know what the outcome of the battle was, they were just chefs, and no one dared to go out to check the situation.

Dewey and the old donkey escorted Paul into the back kitchen, startling the people inside.

The guns of the two men were immediately pointed at them, and the people inside immediately raised their hands high, and no one dared to resist, and watched them walk through the back kitchen and walk to the back door of the bar.

The old donkey made a waiting gesture at Dewey, ordered the bartender to open the back door, and kicked him out.

There were no gunshots, and the people in the bar shouldn't have reached the back door yet.

Safe!

Dewey and the old donkey quickly rushed out, and the backyard was quiet, and there was no one in the backyard.

The old donkey pointed to a pickup truck parked in the yard, which was supposed to be used by the bar to transport goods, and the two escorted Paul over.

There is no key, and there is no time to find it, but this is not difficult for the old donkey.

He smashed the window glass with the butt of his gun, reached in and opened the door, sat in the driver's seat, and opened another door for Dewey and Paul to enter.

Then, he pulled down the guard under the steering wheel, pulled the ignition wire out of it, hit it twice, and started the car.

As soon as the car started, they heard hurried footsteps outside, presumably from the bar, coming to block them.

The old donkey smiled and said, "Sit down." ”

After saying that, he stepped on the accelerator, and the pickup let out a roar and jumped out violently.

Bang!

The iron gate was smashed and flew out, and the pickup truck rushed out of the backyard, only to see a figure flickering not far away.

The old donkey held the steering wheel in one hand and stuck the gun out of the window with the other, and fired several shots at the rushing crowd.

The screams immediately rang out, and the first few people all fell to the ground, and the people behind did not dare to chase anymore, and fired indiscriminately at the pickup truck.

The old donkey didn't look at them, with a steering wheel in his hand, the car turned to the left and went away, and the gunshots were still ringing in the back, but not a single bullet hit the pickup truck.

He flew wildly, and soon left his pursuers behind, and then he poured out his time to ask Paul, "Say, where is Marcus?" ”

Paul shook his head and said, "I don't know. ”

The old donkey put the gun directly on his thigh and said, "I don't want to hear you say that you don't know, if you say another word, I'll shoot." ”

Paul shuddered.

If he hadn't experienced the scuffle at the bar, he might have dared to bite the bullet again, but now he didn't, because he knew that the old donkey would really shoot.

"I, I said, he's at 193 Staße Steoen." Paul said.

"Show us the way, remember, don't play tricks on me, if anything goes wrong, I'll kill you as soon as possible." The old donkey said coldly.

"I, no." Paul said in a trembling voice.

On the way, I changed a car, which was naturally borrowed by the old donkey, and under Paul's guidance, I came to Marcus's residence, 193 Stead'an Street, a dilapidated apartment building.

Paul led them to the third floor, stopped in front of the door of a room, and said, "This is it." ”

"Very good, go over and call the door, if you dare to pass on any news to him, don't blame me for being unkind." The old donkey warned again.