"How do you know that there are no defenses in the manor? These rich people are so afraid of death that they will keep them safe with a house full of bodyguards. Maybe we'll be in front of a bunch of bodyguards with guns, and we'll have a lot of fun!", said Mickey's neighbor, nicknamed Greyhound, who had two robberies and had nothing serious to do now, and lived by selling some narcotics every day.

Let the greyhound join so that the greyhound has a channel to be able to buy some pistols, all of which are black market goods, the kind that no one can trace. And Mickey also needs Greyhound's experience, at least he's still walking outside, and knows more about the specific steps of some crimes than Mickey or others.

Mickey wasn't at all worried about Greyhound's question, he chuckled, a smile full of superiority appeared on his face, "If there are groups of bodyguards inside, then we are going to negotiate, and if we have the opportunity, we can also hold that Gualt rich man hostage." If there are no bodyguards inside, we can clean up irrelevant people and wait for the ransom. ”

The greyhound's eyes lit up, and it was a good idea not to put himself in danger no matter what. He nodded, "This thing can be done, what else do we need to prepare?"

Mickey gestured with a pistol, "At least four are needed, but we don't have the money right now, is there a way to get them to use first, and then pay them back or pay some more." ”

This makes Greyhound a little unsure of how to answer, these people who smuggle arms are trading with their own freedom, and they would rather not do business like credit. After hesitating for a moment, Greyhound shook his head and said: "It's impossible to get on credit, I don't have that much face, but I can introduce a guy to you, he has money in his hands." ”

"Loan shark?", Mickey agreed without the slightest hesitation, "No problem, take me to pick up the goods tomorrow!", he looked at his companions around him and asked, "If someone wants to quit now, I won't stop it." If no one wants to quit, they will be at my command for a few days. Trust me, we're all millionaires after this ticket!"

Perhaps it was the greed and the desire for money that prevailed over reason under the lure of millionaires, and these people gasped for breath at the thought that they might become millionaires. That's a millionaire, squandering a hundred dollars a day and squandering 36,000 a year...... Five hundred yuan, if you want to squander all the money, you have to use at least ...... Thirty years!

Done!

Mickey read their eyes and stretched out his hand, folding his palms together one by one, silently agreeing.

There is an emotion running in their chests, and this emotion is called struggle!

Soon the gang dispersed, and they all needed to be ready to deal with the next "work".

Greyhound had been thinking about the plan Mitch had said on the way back, and he didn't think it was likely to be implemented. Until now, I have never heard of the rich man in the city being kidnapped, nor have I heard of anyone being blackmailed. These tycoons have a lot of wealth enough to hire a professional team of bodyguards to keep them safe, plus they have the status and influence they have, and it's best not to touch them if you don't want to go against the whole city.

The reason why he agreed to Mickey's request was not that he wanted to participate, but that he was just fooling Mickey first, and then hiding and waiting for the matter to be over before coming out. He even thought of how to avoid this without hurting each other's feelings, and that was to turn himself in. Trafficking narcotics can result in severe prison terms, but smashing someone's glass can result in a few days of detention. Just as he was about to turn himself in, suddenly a hard poke hit his lower back from behind.

He didn't quite know what it was, but it was definitely a dangerous thing.

"Don't move, keep going, there's a car at the corner of the street, and if you don't want your picture on the front page of the Illian Daily tomorrow, you'd better cooperate. After the guy behind him finished speaking, the gray dog heard a strange sound, which he recognized as the sound of the pistol being charged after the safety was turned on.

He took the first step slowly, walking cautiously, not allowing himself to make any movements that might mislead the other party, "Man, look, I didn't bring any goods with me when I came out today, and I'm just a little person who delivers goods on the street, I don't have any money!"

The goods in the mouth of the greyhound are the purple angels, a narcotic preparation. The main ingredient in the anesthetic comes from the grimace mushroom, which is a substance that is easy to make people hallucinate, this substance can cut off the signal transmission between nociceptive neurons, so after years of research by the Imperial Medical School, a standard of use has been formulated to reduce the birth of hallucinations as much as possible under the premise of cutting off the signal transmission of pain nerves.

However, if the injection is overdosed, it will still produce hallucinations for a long time, and many people like this adjustment, so anesthetics have always been very marketable. Ernst, who is now serving a prison sentence in Orodor State Prison, was selling bootlegged alcohol and narcotics for profit.

Greyhound is such a guy who sells narcotics on the street, he really doesn't make much money, he can only get a commission of one dollar at most for a small bottle of fifteen yuan, and the rest has to be handed over to his family, plus he is still a person now, and occasionally needs to relieve his loneliness, so it is difficult to save any money.

It was because of this experience, and seeing so many things on the streets, that he concluded that Mickey's plan would not work.

The thing on his back was pushed up, and he was suddenly frightened, it was not a matter to have one less thug selling narcotics in a city with millions of people, and the police didn't even bother to investigate, so he walked forward slowly with a bitter mouth. At the intersection, he saw a gray and very dilapidated car. Such cars are almost everywhere in the Third Arrondissement, and those who can't afford a new car are happy to save face by paying a little money for an old vehicle that may have changed hands or more, and like the pistols circulating on the black market, it is difficult to find out who ends up in the hands.

He got into the car and sat in the passenger seat, with the hard poke in the back of his head, and he had no choice but to let these two take him somewhere he didn't want to go.

The car quickly crossed the highway and entered the fourth district, turning around and stopping in what looked like a factory warehouse. He was pushed into the empty warehouse by the two of them, and suddenly several lights lit up in front of him, and some tears flowed from his eyes. Raising his hand to block out the bright light, he saw a guy in a suit and a bowler hat sitting on a chair in the middle of the warehouse.

Because of the strong backlight, he couldn't see what the person looked like, only a silhouette.

"I suppose Mr. Greyhound wouldn't mind repeating what you heard and saw at night, right?", the seated guy began, and his voice was male, very young, and somewhat magnetic. He was delayed for about ten seconds, and there was a sharp pain in the back of his head, and a hard thing smashed on his head. There was also a force from the crook of his legs, and he fell to his knees with a thud after losing his center of gravity, and a stream of heat gushed out of his nose, and he touched it in front of him, which was transparent.

"Don't, don't hit me, I said, I'll cooperate!", Greyhound knows very well the style of these people, he is not the only person in the know, which means that if he doesn't say what the other party is interested in before the other party runs out of patience, he may close his eyes forever, "Mickey suddenly contacted me at night......"

He began to narrate, and in order to avoid being beaten again, he endured a strong feeling of dizziness, and recounted everything that had happened during the night, including his inner activities after he left. The dark shadow in the warehouse, who could only see the outline, was patient, and did not interrupt his elaborate narration until he had finished everything he knew. At this time, a flash of inspiration suddenly flashed in his heart, these people could not be ...... Three hundred and fifty thousand Mr. people, right?!

He shuddered, and he knew that this son of a bitch's Mickey couldn't do anything good except bad things, and these rich men were so easy to offend?

The greyhound lowered his head and did not dare to look back or look, he knew that the less he "discovered" at this time, the greater the possibility of survival. He doesn't want to die yet, although his life is rotten like a pile of shit, but he loves this pile of shit, and he doesn't want to leave this world yet. The muscles on his face began to tremble uncontrollably, and the transparent snot became more and more, and even tears flowed out.

Slowly, there was a small cry in the warehouse, the voice had been suppressing intense emotions, he didn't dare to cry loudly, he was afraid that his voice would make a noise to the person who was sitting and be solved by them, but he couldn't help but want to cry, cry sadly.

The rhythmic tapping sound of the soles of leather shoes on the ground covered the cries of the greyhounds, and he saw an elongated shadow enveloping him, he didn't dare to look up, because he had "seen too much" and the people who were killed were really not few, he didn't know what fate he would face next, but at least he didn't want to be killed because he saw the other party's appearance.

A handkerchief suddenly appeared in front of him, and the sound of a kick passed him, and a faint sound came to his ears.

"People like you, let's honestly find a job!"