The afternoon sun gave off a sweet scent, and it was supposed to be a quiet and lazy day, like the cat on the roof. But the smell of alcohol and the smell of inferior cigars washed away the soothing sunshine in the bar, and a group of men with cowboy hats and revolvers hanging from their waists sat inside, each with a red scarf around their necks, triangular.

The bar has a very strange name - the chief! From the outside, the Emirates Bar is a bit eerie, and ordinary people will feel cold when they get close to it. But the people inside won't, because that's their territory.

It's not just the 'Chief' that is the territory of the Red Gang, the whole city is the territory of the Red Gang, and although the cities in the west are small, it is still a city, even if it is more like a small town.

Bald Steve Boulder has been in the bar for 10 years, and he's been in the city longer than Sheriff Arsène Wenger. Boulder knows every nook and cranny of the city, including the Chieftain's Bar. It used to be a small bar called Highbury, and it couldn't sit so many people. Three years ago, everyone abandoned Highbury, and after demolishing a lot of houses and freight yards, we had this larger 'chief'.

Boulder was busy serving everyone a drink when he asked the young-looking cowboy in the middle. "Cesc Fabregas, you say...... Will the Mibang people really come today? ”

"Of course they will come, unless they don't want our territory." Fabregas poured half a glass of wine into his mouth, and after a 'coo', he didn't know what he was drinking, and scolded 'Shet! Then he turned his head to look at the two wanted notices on the wall, and old Boulder looked at them as well.

The wanted warrant was posted by the sheriff, and on it were two of the most dangerous characters of the Mi Gang, Zhuo Yang and Kaka. However, Fabregas's portrait is also on the Mibang's wanted warrant, which was issued by the sheriff there, Ancellotti.

"Ahh With that, he limped towards the bar.

'Smack! Syllable! Suddenly the gunshots rang out, and as everyone looked, Adebayo was blowing the smoke from the muzzle of the pistol. On the wanted notice, Zhuo Yang and Kaka have an extra bullet hole in the center of their eyebrows. Everyone in the Red Gang knows that Adebayor has always felt that he has better marksmanship than the Dutchman Van Persie, and he believes that he is the fastest gunner for the Red Gang.

'Huh~' There was a sneer from the corner, and Adebayo looked for it with his eyes. "Song, what the are you laughing at? Oh, by the way, Zhuo Yang is your uncle, and you used to be from the horse gang. ”

"The whole western region knows that Zhuo Yang is my uncle, and they all know that the Red Gang was robbed of territory by the Ma Gang before, Zhuo Yang's Ma Gang. You're kind of waiting for my uncle to come and shoot him in the head again. ”

"I will, hey, hey, hey......"

'Bang! The wooden door of the bar was smashed open with his legs, and the old sheriff Arsene Wenger walked in, holding a thick piece of paper, apparently another wanted warrant. The sheriff walked straight to the wanted wall, looked at the new bullet holes in amazement, and then turned back to question the cowboys. So, everyone went to see Adebayo.

"Idiot!" The old sheriff scolded with a grim face, and then ignored it. He pasted the wanted warrant in his hand to the wall, side by side with the original two, and patted it vigorously to make it more secure. When the sheriff moved out of the way, the cowboy let out an exclamation, "Oh-"

- Philippe Inzaghi!

"It turned out to be his ......"

"Highway Nine Killer ......"

"He does qualify for a wanted ......"

The old sheriff was pleased with the effect he had made, and when the cowboys were almost done talking, he slapped the plank wall hard, drawing everyone's attention. 'Ahem,' he cleared his throat as the sheriff was about to speak, when suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves rumbled from far to near, and in a short time it thundered into the ears of the cowboys in the bar.

After a cacophony of neighing horses, 'Tom!' The wooden door of the bar was violently kicked open, and a dozen people broke in.

They were also dressed in cowboy hats, riding boots, leather jackets or jackets, each wearing a white scarf around their necks, and the first three were the ones on the wanted notices on the wall.

Mibang is coming!

The Red Gang gathered up and occupied the right side of the bar, and of course, they didn't forget the wine glass in front of them. For cowboys, horses, cigars, beer, and guns are equally important, and as for women, they are nothing more than cows in the herd, and if you lose the old, there will be a new one. The Mi Bang who came in also stood behind the leading three, occupying the left side, and Zhuo Yang and Fabregas looked at each other across a table.

Compared with three years ago, Zhuo Yang looked more vicious, and his messy and greasy long hair was even more disgusting. The heavy beard is like a thorn in the wasteland in the suburbs, and in the gaps of the fat on the face, the evil light of a pair of eagle eyes stained with eye feces makes people shudder. Zhuo Yang grinned, his smile was more ugly than crying, except for the three gold teeth in his mouth that shone with a rich light, the rest of the teeth had been smoked brown by alcohol and cigars.

"Boom, boom, boom~~~" The sound of his laughter was like a saw sawing bones.

Old Sergeant Wenger took his hand away from the wall and swallowed hard. Before the words of "Mi ......" fell, Inzaghi, the homicidal maniac on Highway 9, suddenly had an extra shotgun with a sawn short barrel in his hand, and only heard a 'boom', and the old sheriff's entire face and chest were beaten into a bloody hornet's nest.

Blood splattered on the three wanted warrants, and the old sheriff was blasted out, his body smashing into the organ in the corner, making a death accent.

"Vark!" Boulder in the bar pulled out a double tube from under the table, and before he could take aim, a small and delicate axe in Ambrosini's hand flew in the air, and it was chopping into Boulder's eyebrows, and the blade of the axe was embedded in the skull as deep as a small half cigar.

'Tom! The double-barreled shotgun went off, and a large hole was pierced in the pointed plank roof, and Boulder fell straight back, smashing the wooden frame behind him where the cups and plates were kept. The dirt that shook off the roofs was spilling on the cowboys' heads, shoulders, and wine glasses.

"Boom, boom, boom~~~" Zhuo Yang was still laughing.

The atmosphere was very solemn, only Zhuo Yang was still laughing, and the laughter was like a saw.

Inzaghi lazily lifted the short-barreled shotgun and carried it on his shoulder with one hand, but his right index finger did not leave the trigger. Except for Zhuo Yang and Fabregas, the hands of all the cowboys on both sides hung naturally or unnaturally next to their guns, their palms half-open, and some of them were still shaking their fingers slightly.

Zhuo Yang smiled and took half a glass of beer from Fabregas in front of him, tilted his head and drank it, some of the beer falling from the corner of his mouth, flowing through his dirty beard, and then onto the dirtier scarf and the placket of his clothes.

Drink the beer mixed with dust and 'ahem!' Zhuo Yang spat a mouthful of fishy yellow phlegm into the cup and pushed it back in front of Fabregas.

Fabregas frowned at disgust, swept the glass off the table with his hand, and fell to the ground.

"Boom, boom, boom~~~" Zhuo Yang laughed again.