rust and bone

Touching the ring, he secretly looked at the two of them. Suddenly, he frowned vigilantly: "Wait, sir, you don't seem to be a Slav, don't you—"

Sansas slowly pulled out the extended Browning from the back waist, playing with the silver trigger.

Brody's face turned pale, with an unknown mixture of regret and fear.The VIP single rooms are separated by frosted glass about one meter high, and the inside cannot be seen from the outside.

He didn't do anything, just lowered his head and lightly put his thumb on the trigger: "Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland seem to accept political immigration. As a middle-class employee, you should remember this bit of knowledge."

Ten minutes later, Skjarola went up the glass door of the bank.

"We can go."

Sansas shook the ash silently: "Mobile, 01 Francis Road, what exactly is it?"

Squearo grinned. "Damn guys, I was wandering around in Alabama and they tried to influence me." He reached for the Marlboro in Sansas's right hand, took a sharp breath, and pointed it at his chest. He sighed, "Of course, you know, for an old gambler like me, even Soros, it is impossible to influence him."

He shook his head and stuffed the cigarette back into Sansas' fingers: "Don't worry, once he accepts the ring, he won't be able to run away, you know the rules of the bank."

As a matter of course, Sansas turned his wrist to catch the cigarette stuffed back into his hand. With the cigarette in his mouth, he looked at the noisy snake-shaped motorcade outside the bank's gate, and let out a snort of approval from his nasal cavity.

"I never knew, it seems, how useful you are at the apex."

[1] During the Great Depression of 1930, Bonnie Parker was at her mother's home in West Township, Dallas, Texas, and saw Clyde Barrow stealing her mother's car.Clyde fell in love with Bonnie at first sight, showing off to her that he had been imprisoned for armed robbery, and robbed the small supermarket in the town in front of her.From then on, the two wandered around the world together, made a living by robbery, and moved to Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Oklahoma, and took Moss and Clyde's younger brother Buck Barrow, who was in charge of car repair, and His wife Blanche formed the Barrow Gang, which became famous for a while.

#11.5

The last customer left, the lobby began to clean up, and the employees locked the counters and walked to the center of the hall to move their hands and feet, which had been stiff and curled up all day.

A black SUV drove up from the other end of the long street in reverse, and a clerk jumped down and opened the tailgate.Brody poked his head at the door, and after confirming that there was no one there, he called the staff to bring a few steel safes to the hall.

Squearo left the Ford Falcon and walked to the center of the hall.

"Where is the thing? Please hurry up, I am at the risk of being punished..."

He replied in a low voice: "No problem, in the car over there, but—" Squearo stopped and made a grimace, "Please, I'm a little anxious."

The marmot showed panic and impatience on his face, and pointed at the back of the counter indiscriminately.Squearo walked over to the staff area, turned awkwardly, and shook his head in bewilderment at the marmot.

Brody had to run over.

"It's really troublesome." Walking on the back street of the building, he hoarsely apologized.

Brody waved his hand: "It's okay...but... really please hurry up..."

"OK."

The barrel of the gun was in the back of his head.

With little effort, Squearo stretched out his legs and kicked him down, and turned his upper arm with his backhand. The muzzle of the gun hit his neck.

The arm he was holding was trembling, and Skjaro pulled the safety catch, and Brody almost jumped up in fear.

"Get out immediately and tell your staff to open the box at the counter, and I want all the cash I haven't sent away."

"Don't...don't...this is different from what we said..."

He smiled, and shook the gun body slightly, making a rattling sound of metal collisions, which slowly sounded in the dark corridor.

"Don't play tricks, remember the Italian who came with me?" He licked his lower lip, "He was sitting in the car looking at this side, and forgot to tell you—he was holding Moxigan in his hand Na's improved sniper attack."

"How about it, do you want to be bombarded so that you don't even have a brain left?"

The person he was holding was visibly shaking, and there was a strange smell of defecation in the air, and he was incontinent.

Squearo smiled, the sweetest smile a demon could have.

He carried Brody back down the hall, and the bank clerks stood dumbfounded as the Yankee in a priest's Sunday shirt put a gun to the back of the boss's head.

"Mr. Brody?" A young man boldly looked over.

Brody yelled hysterically, "What are you looking at! Open the counter! All the money! They want all the money from yesterday and today!! Hear that! All! Cash!"

The women were obviously enduring the urge to scream, and covered their mouths with their hands, opened the counter as quickly as possible and stuffed large amounts of banknotes into the portable travel bag.

#12

The dream is red.

He tried to stretch out his hand, and there were countless friction sounds of metal shells and air around him.

It's bullets.

grab it! !

call out!call out! !

He jumped up.

grab it! !Countless bullets flew past him.

He started running, trying to catch up.

— catch it!

Those bullets have scarlet eyes.

"Boss, boss." Someone shook him out of his hellish dream.

Dino leaned back and fell into the large boss chair, panting heavily.

"Boss, we have found out about that person." Romario respectfully handed over a few pages of printing paper.

Dino pulled off the white leather gloves and threw them on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and took the investigation reports.

Skjaro Sberbia, the former Monte Carlo big JOKER, lost his right hand as a punishment for the Monte Carlo joint scandal.

Romario watched his boss burn those pages with a cloudy expression, and Dino asked again, "How are they?"

Romario lowered his head.

Dino looked at the burning ashes flying in the air, and smiled slowly.

"Romario," he said gently, "do you think I've done anything wrong?"

When the papers were burned, he suddenly burst into hysterical cries: "What did I do wrong!!!!"

"I just love him so much!!! I just love him so much!!! What did I do wrong!!!"

He covered his face and let out a childish sob of frustration, then giggled again.

"——you said what I did wrong!!!"

he's mine.

Man smiling vacantly at a blank whitewashed wall.

#00 Panama Nap Time

Dino Ferrari stepped cautiously onto the whitewashed shoe-mat on the front porch.

He wears cologne, but not too much to be obnoxious, and his hair is combed back carefully under his cap.

He reached out and tapped on the upper frame of the screen window.

With a squeak, a typical Mexican face appeared from behind.

He touched his hat in acknowledgment, and the latter smiled and let him in sideways.The living room has drawn the curtains, so the light is not very bright.

"Good morning, Mrs. Timothy."

Ursula smiled, and shouted towards the depths of the dimly lit living room: "Sansas, our guest has arrived."

The rocking chair creaked, and the crackling sound of the pages of the book came from the dark, and a dark-skinned boy in shorts with coconut palms came out of the room, and was wiping his wet hair with a towel.

Ursula frowned: "What are you doing now, you will immediately turn out of the backyard as soon as I turn around, right?"

The twelve or thirteen-year-old boy buried his head and ignored his mother's scolding, dried his hair, grabbed the towel and threw it on the sofa, and pointed at Dino: "Mom, who is he?"

"Sansas, be polite with your guests."

She brushed her long, wavy black hair and smiled apologetically at Dino: "I'm sorry, that's just how he is."

"No, nothing—" He extended his right hand to the seventh heir to the Vongola family, "—I'm Dino Ferrari."

"Duno Ferrari." The boy took his hand and shook it casually.

"No no, it's Dino, not Duno." An embarrassing Gallic accent.

Sansas nodded and picked up the football magazine on the coffee table: "Are you a corgi [1]?"

"— Sansas!!" Ursula glared at him.

"No no, it's nothing, ma'am." Dino waved his hand and motioned for Ursula to leave the two men sitting in the living room. "Believe me, it's not offensive at all."

Úrsula sighed, resting the back of her hand on her forehead, turned and went into the kitchen.

After his mother left the living room, the boy sat lazily in the rocking chair again, flicking through the color-printed sports magazines, completely ignoring Dino's eyes and not intending to take his eyes off him.

"Chipotle stew for lunch?" She only went in for a minute, and then poked her head out worriedly.

Sansas put down the football magazine—he didn't actually read it—and for the first time a little childish eagerness appeared on his face: "Where's Dad? Will Dad come?"

"Of course, dear."

There are only a handful of Timothy's lovers who can be recognized by the family, and Ursula is one of these few women.

Dino's eyes turned back to the boy again. Compared with the five ugly, fat and clumsy elder brothers in his family, he was not at all like an illegitimate child.

"Sanzas."

"What's up, Ferrari."

He really wasn't well-bred at all, but he wasn't annoying.

"How old are you?"

Sansas closed the book, his eyes were not the black color common to Indians, but a dark red hue of pigeon blood due to the mixed blood.

"It's not a big deal to ask someone's age.