.

At dawn, Ed parked the car on the side of the dimly lit road, under a large tree on the side of the road, turned off the lights and turned off the lights, but then there was no movement, and there was no intention of getting out of the car immediately. It wasn't a very wise choice for him to do this, because although it was a commercial boulevard, the area he was in was not a parking space, and there was not a single car around, which made him very eye-catching. In addition, the car he is driving now is not the same cheap as before, but a rarity that can be ranked among the luxury cars, which makes him even more eye-catching.

No, in fact, if it was on this street, it might have been even more eye-catching for his previous bargain. After all, scarcity is expensive.

Ed doing this, doing nothing like this, may have brought him into sight. He could see the building, the tall, luxurious lounge just across the street. Because it was too early, I couldn't even see a little fish belly white in the sky, and the clubhouse itself, like other nearby houses and buildings, was closed, and no light could be seen. It's not the kind of place where entertainment gathers, and there's no all-night lights to illuminate the short-lived ghosts with chaotic biological clocks. At least not on the surface.

From the outside, the architectural structure of the clubhouse is a bit like a super hotel for the super rich, the kind of super luxury super hotel, with a high-altitude courtyard, an indoor pool, and an underground lounge, which is especially suitable for a leisurely vacation with a mistress. It seems that it used to be a similar place, as if it was once a business club called "Brass Ring" for horse betting agents in Bablyar Beach, where these gentlemen, who had a monopoly on the upper class of Bablyre, held drinking parties and balls and other social events at all levels. Every Saturday, a large number of high-class gentlemen and ladies from the Barblair horse betting field come here from far and wide to participate in the cocktail party hosted by the enthusiastic hosts who they know or do not know each time, drink a glass of wine with their dance partners, and then dance a passionate ballroom dance, and the fatigue and unhappiness of the week will be drifted away with the wind like the dust that has been caressed.

Originally, as long as the music didn't stop, people could keep dancing happily. But then something happened that changed all that and brought the club to its end. Someone reported to the Magistrate's Police Department in Barblair that someone at the Horse Betting Club was secretly engaged in coloring. made a living in the love business, and also handed over the evidence - a whole box of indescribable photos, all of which must weigh at least thirty pounds.

This incident caused an uproar in Bablore, and even several forces in the underworld were attracted to this side, and they paid attention to this side and paid attention to the future developments and movements. But surprisingly, the fire burned up and went out quickly, and after only a few days, there was no sound, and even a little smoke did not come out.

The speed of the police processing is too fast, and it is a little weird fast. They completely investigated and collected the relevant evidence almost the next day, and then immediately the court lowered the verdict and imprisoned the relevant organizers of the club in Dihai Prison, and the whole process went smoothly as if it had been rehearsed many times.

Some people were keenly aware at once that it might not be as simple as it seemed, that there might be some secret behind it, that the club's organisers might have been wronged, that they might not have committed the crimes they were accused of at all.

And these people guessed right, but only half right. Horse Betting Club operates color. The matter of the investigation of the love business is indeed not as simple as it seems on the surface, there is an unknown hidden force hiding behind it, sitting in the director's chair with the script in his hand, and arranging and manipulating the development of the whole drama with one hand. Everything was doomed from the beginning.

But what they guessed wrong was that none of the dejected organizers who were sent to the earth by the Bablore District Police were wronged, and all of them deserved it. They did commit those crimes, and they did secretly run those dirty businesses in their clubs for a long time. The evidence against them, although they didn't know why it was so much, so iron, so dumbfounded, and they didn't know who had sent them to the police, they couldn't deny it in any way.

They're finished, completely finished. They were eliminated from the Barblair stage and could never come back.

No one is stupid. It didn't take long for all the forces of the underworld to react to the idea of someone who was deliberately messing with the ponies who smelled of goldfish and forage, and who had deliberately leaked information and evidence to the police, using the power of the police to pull out the hooves of the club and empty the club — and a large part of the horse betting business — and a large part of the business. As for why the other party did this, there is no need to ask at all.

It's a big piece of cake coming out of the oven!

Stir. For a while, the underground forces of all sides in Bablore were a little unable to sit still. But immediately, within a few days, they were all able to sit down again, and one by one they were more and more stable, eager to stick their butts to their seats.

The Horse Gamblers' Club, a remarkable place in every way, a place that would undoubtedly make a lot of money to its masters, was finally repurchased by a new owner at a great cost after being abandoned for a period of time.

By all accounts, this is not a simple matter. Because as long as you are not blind, you can see a situation - after several leaders of the horse gamblers entered, after the cake in the club and the betting field was served, after the performance of someone manipulating the whole show from behind was basically guessed by everyone - whoever dares to go up and be the first to pick up the knife to bite the cake must be the real mastermind behind all this.

They were right. But it didn't work, because they didn't intend to go into hiding anymore.

At that time in Barblair Beach, the eldest and second - or the third - they didn't care who - were they, and all the forces above and below were very clear. One of them is the "Dark Paradise", the most powerful family in Bablore, and the other is the "Golden Galleon", the oldest family in Bablair, both of whom have proven themselves with strength and time, and their status is indisputable. And under them, among the forces that are competing for the third or second place all the way up, the most fierce and energetic is the Donfrey family, which has formed a big fist under the hands of the most tossed fat man in history.

All the opponents who fought against the Donfried family on the way to growth were smashed to pieces by this meaty, weighty super iron fist. Donfrie, as he himself said, was huge, but his reaction speed was unusually fast. Under his leadership and several of the founding fathers of the Donfried family, the steel conglomerate soon grew their family business to an incredible size, building their own empire with Barblair's iron hand at each point.

As for what kind of methods did they use? Well, anyway, you don't need to worry about some special disputes. Rather, they have done a lot of good things in the process, and those troublesome guys should turn around and thank them.

When another piece of the empire's puzzle was perfectly captured as planned, the strength of the Donfried family went further, and easily digested a few mice that were seduced in the process with their fat belly, and they finally succeeded in winning the world that belonged to them above Bablore's head after years of concerted efforts and perseverance, and built only three huge sand castles of their own on the entire beach. He became a dark giant who could look down on the undulating waves of the entire sea.

And that small piece of the puzzle is now just a small stone in their dark empire. And now, Ed is in the shadow of the stone.

What was once a semi-open club has completely changed its nature and has become a private clubhouse open only to registered members. As for what the hell is going on inside, no one knows, no one cares, and no one cares. With the strength and influence of the Tangfrey family now, even if they are doing the business run by those little pony brothers all day and night, even if someone plays the hand they used to play with them, and carries 300 catties or even 3,000 catties of evidence to the police station and shouts at them, there is no way to shake their thighs at all.

Donfrie is no longer the Donfrie he used to be. They came from hell, stepped on the corpses of thousands of evil spirits, the dried blood clotted and fell off on their bodies, and they experienced destruction and rebirth again and again. They did it, they succeeded, they stood at the top, and they became the demon king who had the last laugh.

And if you want to hurt a demon king - your teeth should be slightly sharper than a toothpick, otherwise you won't even be able to bite its skin, and you won't be able to bite out a single bit of blood.

Ed wanted it to bleed, to tear off a piece of its flesh. However, his teeth are a little too dull now.