Frank Mire came out of the darkness.

He walked towards the old man's trash can, and he looked at the old man in the trash can, who was sitting naked in the trash can, and looked up at Frank Mire.

Frankimir didn't pay any attention to the old man, but thought that the skinny loose skin looked very funny.

Frankimir turned around and tried to chase Kafka, but he didn't expect that he had already disappeared. Franky Mill recalled that just now, he seemed to hear the old man talking about something two streets away, Feng Laiyi and Wan Chun Pavilion. Maybe Kafka went somewhere, and he couldn't continue to delay like this, so Frankimir immediately chased in the direction where Kafka disappeared.

A game of snooker has just begun, and three goals are scored in a row on the first shot. In the dim light, the glittering white balls aroused Frank Mire's idea.

A fat hand rests behind the white ball and rests firmly on the green table. Then the club rests on his finger and is aiming for a red ball.

This guy is Kafka, and this guy actually came here. Frankie Mill remembered Kafka and once mentioned the game of pool to him, and it seemed that he was a guy who liked to play pool very much.

There were also three burly men with tattoos standing in front of the table, and they didn't look like some good people.

A seductive Chinese woman, absentmindedly leaning against the table, trimming her nails with a small file.

The three men are dressed like professional thugs in the casino, and the bewitching women are full of vulgarity.

This shot was good, with two colored balls going into two different holes. Frank Mire hid in the darkness and watched silently.

It seems that Kafka played a good game and he has a good chance of winning.

"Hahaha, it seems that I am lucky, I am really embarrassed to win you like this, how about you lose ten taels of gold to me? Looks like this ** belongs to me tonight. Kafka smiled triumphantly, and reached for the ten taels of gold ingots that had been placed in front of the table.

A bald man, Kafka grabbed the ten taels of gold in front of the table, and said fiercely: "This thing belongs to me, who saw that you won this game?" It's clear that I won. ”

"What! What the! You're clearly talking nonsense with your eyes open. Kafka glared at his already small eyes.

"Even if it's it! So what? Grandpa, I'm in Twin Cities, eating fragrant and drinking spicy food, visiting the kiln *sub playing* women, when have you given money, you don't ask, grandpa, who am I! The bald man said disdainfully as he took the gold in his hand.

"I don't care who you are and how it is! I am willing to gamble and lose, but I can't be a scoundrel! Kafka slammed the club on the table, looking very angry.

Although they were numerous and looked strong, Kafka had no fear, and the fact that he had a gun in his clothes gave him more courage.

Frank Mire hid and saw what was going on, and now it was going to be black and black, and there was a good show to watch.

The bald man played with the gold in his hand and walked slowly towards Kafka. The other two strong men, one left and one right, approached Kafka unhurriedly. In this way, the three strong men quickly surrounded Kafka.

Kafka wanted to put his hand inside his clothes and take out his M900 pistol. Unexpectedly, these guys struck first, a big man with braids, and punched Kafka in the back, almost knocking Kafka to the ground.

Kafka staggered a few steps forward, but he hadn't yet stabilized his fat body. On the belly, he was punched by a bald man, and Kafka spat out sour water. The big man with loose hair was not idle, he punched Kafka on the bridge of the nose, and blood sprayed out of his nose in an instant.

Three burly men slashed their arms, and you punched Kafka with one punch. The bewitching woman, still with a disdainful look on her face, silently watched the excitement on the sidelines.

This Kafka was not idle when he was beaten, and he scolded: "You turtle grandsons, you dare to sneak attack your grandfather." If you don't wait for grandpa and me to recover, I will have to kick and beat the ass and balls of your turtle grandsons! ”

Frankimir couldn't stand it on the sidelines, although he said that Kafka was not a thing, and he was happy to see someone teach Kafka a good lesson. But if you go to death like this, you have to die.

Frankimir realized that he could not continue to watch the excitement like this, otherwise Kafka would have been beaten to death.

He immediately rushed over, kicked the bald man to the ground, slapped the man with loose hair twice, and then grabbed the braid of the pigtailed man with his backhand and threw him out, almost tearing the guy's scalp.

This made Kafka finally breathe a sigh of relief. This Kafka is really rough and thick-skinned, except for a little blood from his nose, and he doesn't seem to have suffered any injuries after being beaten for so long.

How could the three men have suffered such a loss, where did this come out of Cheng Yanjin, and he dared to meddle with their affairs, the three of them staggered their eyes and signaled to each other, and they must teach this guy who doesn't know the height of the sky a hard lesson.

"Fuck, you bunny. Don't look at who my grandfather is, take care of Lao Tzu's business. The bald man cursed as he got up from the ground.

Suddenly, something pressed against the bald man's nose, cold as if it were some kind of metal. The bald man looked at it and saw that it was a silver pistol.

"What's the matter, I don't care?" Kafka wiped the blood from his nose with one hand, and with the other hand, he clenched the M900 pistol he had taken out of his arms and pressed it against the nose of the bald man.

"What! Come on for a helper, you just want to bluff me. Do you think I don't know, this thing is fake? Are you scared of me? The bald man shouted nonchalantly.

Kafka didn't say much, he just pointed the M900 pistol at the pool table and fired a shot so carelessly. Gunshots rang out, and a hole was punched through the heavy billiard table.

Kafka carelessly used the M900 pistol again to put it against the nose of the bald man, this time the bald man was really afraid.

Not only this bald man, but even the man with loose hair and the man with braided hair are so frightened that they are silent now.

Bullets don't have eyes. This thing is no better than a fist, no matter how heavy the fist hits, it is just a broken bone and tendon injury. But this metal thing chases souls every minute, and it kills every second. If you go down with one shot, your life will be gone.

"What! Aren't you going to give me back the gold? Kafka said angrily.

"Where! Where! It's meant to be your stuff. The bald man said with a smile on his face. Hurriedly put the ten taels of gold in his hand back into Kafka's jacket pocket, and patted it gently.

"Now I'll ask you. You just said, who won this game? Kafka asked, rather awkwardly.

"Master, of course it's Master. It was the Lord who won the game. The bald man said with a smile on his face.

"I listen to what you say, why are you so awkward." Kafka asked with a gloomy face.

"Of course you're the master! You are my grandfather, my living ancestor. The bald man was still smiling, and it looked worse than crying.

Frankimir couldn't help but curse on the side, it's really anyone, just now he was flying and domineering, and now he is pretending to be his grandson.

"What grandpa is not grandpa! I don't have a grandson like you! Be careful that I shoot you in the head. Kafka scolded.

"Yes, yes. I don't deserve to be grandpa's grandson, grandpa spare, grandpa spare. The bald man pleaded with a pitiful face.

"Alright, alright, get out of here. From now on, don't let me see you again. Frank Mire said he didn't want to see these scoundrels again.

"This lord told you to get out, did you hear that?" Kafka asked.

"Listen...... I heard it. The three replied in unison.

"Then don't get out of here."

"Yes, yes."

"Come back!"

The three men were about to flee when Kafka suddenly stopped them again.

"What else does Grandpa have to say?"

"You brutes, where are you worthy of wearing any clothes, take off all your clothes for me."

"Ahh

"Ahhh Take it off for me! ”

The three of them had no choice but to take off their clothes, leaving a pair of shorts.

"Take off my shorts too!" Kafka said.

"Grandpa, this is not good!"

"Listen to you, listen to me?"

"Of course I listen to you."

"Then take it off for me, don't pretend to be stupid for me!"

In the end, the three burly men slipped away with their bare butts and disappeared into the dark night.