"The rabbit played with you."

"You've been pit hard by him, we've all been pit hard by him, we're like a bunch of hopeless idiots."

Garber tossed the ashtray aside and rattled the ash, spilling ash onto the countertop.

He sat down on a barstool and lit his cigarette with trembling hands.

"Fifteen years."

"You've been in prison for fifteen years for a glass hand."

Hood stared blankly at the smashed fake diamonds on the countertop, his head buzzing.

He has always felt that he has been in contact with rabbits, it is true that he has been squatting for fifteen years, and he has also been tortured in prison, and he can only enjoy a moment of peace when he gives up his life.

However, he also took the 10 million diamonds he stole during the operation, and allowed Carly to escape the rabbit's control.

I thought that the reason for surviving in prison was because the rabbit wanted to recover the diamond, but I didn't expect it all to be a joke.

Hood suddenly felt his skin swell, and warm fluid flowed down his nose.

He wiped away the nosebleed, and said to Jabber in a cold tone:

"We need to find the rabbit."

"Next, it's not that he wants revenge, but that I want revenge."

Jaber took a silent puff of his cigarette, then exhaled a heavy plume of smoke, "Don't worry, I'll be focusing on rabbits all this time." ”

After receiving his affirmative reply, Hood slowly stood up and walked out of the house.

The diamond worth 10 million was his last confidence.

Now that the hole cards were directly emptied, Hood's heart was blank for a while, and he staggered up to the second floor of the barn.

Kate Moody was lying on her side on the bed, the tattoos on her back looked extremely charming, and her delicate red lips were spitting white smoke out.

She heard the door open, turned around, saw Hood's look of despair, and asked curiously:

"What's the matter?"

Hood didn't speak, he pounced like a hungry wolf.

At this time, he just wanted to vent all the grievances in his heart.

After Hood leaves, Candy silently grabs a towel and plucks the glass and cigarette butt ash from the bar into the trash.

"I'm sorry."

Seeing the mess on the bar, Jaber calmed down and embarrassedly apologized to Candy.

"It's really new, it's the first time you've said something like this to me."

Candy took off his hat, hung it on the back shelf, and turned around to pour himself a glass of wine.

"Trust me, I can understand your feelings."

"After years of sweat, pain and hard work, in the end it was still nothing, and I know this feeling more deeply than all of you."

Candy took a sip of the whiskey in the glass, and said with a wry smile:

"Look at me, a gray-haired, well-haired old guy guarding a shabby country pub, and if I don't say it, who knows I've been a champion fighter in the ring."

"Please, you're in great health now." Ethan livens up the atmosphere.

"On Banshee Day, wasn't there a motorcycle party that asked you to punch over?"

"You don't understand." Candy said sadly:

"The body of a fifty or sixty-year-old boxer is equivalent to a normal person seventy or eighty years old."

"How many years do you think I can pour wine for others?"

Ethan suddenly didn't know what to say, at this time, just accompany the two of them to drink stuffy.

It wasn't long before Ethan and Jabber left Davis' Bar.

The two cars sped down the road one after the other, and soon came to Jabber's residence.

Closing the car door and looking at the dark house, Ethan opened his mouth and asked, "Didn't Jonny come with you?" ”

Jonny is Jabber's little boyfriend and often dresses up in gothic style.

"He's in New York." Jabber led the way to the house.

He was still a little depressed, he thought that there were hundreds of thousands, but he didn't expect it to be empty in the end.

Walking into the house, it is different from Jabber's residence in New York, with a lot of furniture.

Jaber opened the refrigerator door, and the next moment, a bottle of mineral water flew over.

Ethan took the water bottle, unscrewed the cap, took a sip and put it down.

"Where's the thing?"

"Basement."

Garber led Ethan down the corner of the stairs, he reached out and turned on the light, and it was empty underneath, except for a wine rack by the wall, on which a dozen bottles of red wine were placed.

Ethan was confused and looked at Garber with his hands outstretched.

Jaber smiled and walked over to the wine rack.

He pushed the wine rack a few centimeters to the side, and then pressed it hard, and the wine rack was suddenly pushed open like a door.

The lights flickered inside, and soon they lit up.

A small space of several square meters, with a fixed gun carriage on the wall and a table in it.

There was nothing on the gun carriage, and a long black travel bag was placed on the table.

Garber lit a cigarette, leaned against the wall next to him, and said casually:

"Here's most of my inventory in New York, I basically have everything you want, so you don't need to find those black gun dealers, I'll just give you a little bit, you can see for yourself."

Ethan first lifted the travel bag, which weighed dozens of pounds, and didn't know how Jaber had transported it from New York.

He reached out and opened the zipper, and it was full of long and short guns.

Ethan looked at the guns inside, his hands ready to move.

"Do you have gloves?"

"Inside the pocket on the side."

Jaber simply walked over, pulled out his black gloves from the side of the travel bag, and put them on himself.

The two of them took out all the guns inside and lined them up neatly on the table.

Garber picked up a Springfield pistol and aimed it at the corner next to him.

"These guns are clean, whatever you want, pick yourself."

Ethan's gaze stayed on a silver pistol, which he had previously referred to as the B13.

He reached out and picked up the silver pistol, the 50AE marker next to the muzzle was particularly noticeable.

Ethan swept the body of the gun heavily and glanced at Jabber's small body.

"It's not that I look down on you, are you in control of this gun?"

The corners of Jabber's mouth twitched, "If you want to take it, it was because it looked good, and when I used it for the first time, I twisted my wrist directly, and I haven't used it since." ”

The eagle of the desert, the body of the gun is heavy, and it weighs four pounds.

The ammunition capacity is small, and the magazine can only hold seven rounds.

The recoil is large, and the wrist can be twisted if the operation is not done properly.

There are many shortcomings, but Ethan still decisively put it in front of him, one word, handsome.

Recoil is completely fine for yourself.

Next, he picked and placed a few more guns in front of him, the Desert Eagle, the Beretta M9, the AR-15, and an Uzi submachine gun.

In addition to these guns, there are corresponding spare magazines and cartridges.

Seeing that he had picked so many guns, Garber asked curiously:

"Who are you going to war with?"

Ethan looked at the pile of guns left on the table, "Who are you fighting again?" ”

"There are many enemies, so you need to prepare some guys to rest assured."

Ethan played with the silver sand eagle, raised his eyebrows and said:

"Me too."

Thank you for the big head of Xianyu and Gatling Bodhisattva, thank you.

(End of chapter)