Blackstone Code Chapter 885: Then I go?

It was getting late, Lynch went out the door and glanced at his watch, he walked towards his room.

"Help me tell your leader, I'm going to rest, I'll talk about it tomorrow."

Lynch would like to thank everyone in the world who speaks the same language, otherwise mere communication would be a big problem.

For example, two soldiers who couldn't understand what he was talking about pointed guns at his head and made him "dog", which was scary to think about.

Sometimes it is easy for the superiors to be persuaded, but it is difficult for the rigid inferiors to convince them. Of course, it is also one of the reasons why they dare not be flexible.

As soon as the door was opened, Lynch knew that someone had come, and there were too many details.

He frowned slightly. He looked towards the bedroom. There were some blood splatters on the wall. As the blood slowly fell, vertical bloodstains were drawn on the wall.

He walked in, glanced at the dead female manager lying on the bed, and exited the room, he didn't even talk to Penny to confirm if something was wrong with her.

The ghost knows if anyone is hiding here, and he also knows that the manager's death was a warning from the beret.

He intends to tell Lynch in this way that everything is still under his control.

Lynch returned to the sofa in the living room and sat down. After ten or twenty minutes, he was ready to rest when the beret suddenly broke in.

With a very fake smirk on his face, he raised the bottle in his hand, "Hey, friend, would you mind having a drink with me?"

Several soldiers rushed into each room from behind him, and Lynch nodded as if nothing had happened, "Yes, but I can't drink too much."

"It's okay..."

Beret like he's really coming for a drink, he doesn't say anything and pours Lynch a glass full of it.

The Commonwealth is weird.

They like to use some very large vessels to hold minimal liquids, such as square cups.

Each square cup has a capacity of at least 450 ml, but the federal people never give it a chance to fill it up, and many times there may only be about 100 ml of liquid.

Even with the addition of ice cubes, it leaves full early.

The more luxurious the utensils are, the more so. Some experts believe that this kind of aesthetic originates from a certain ancient nation, and the great is beautiful and the great is respected.

Gradually people are getting used to this kind of thing, a cup that can feel very huge, with only a tiny bit of liquid in it.

Like the glass in front of Lynch, the only time he's seen it in years, it's full and overflowing.

"I can't drink that much."

Lynch didn't pick it up, he knew that as long as he picked it up, he would have to finish it.

Actually, in terms of Lynch's alcohol capacity, this amount of wine is nothing. Alcohol in the 30 to 40 degrees used to be no different from mineral water in his eyes.

But he can't drink, it's a matter of attitude.

The soldiers who broke into the room and searched around came out at this time, and they came out as they got in.

No extra people.

Beret pulled out a pistol and slapped it on the table, "Drink or not?"

"I'll drink it when you put a gun to my head and flip the safety on, but not now."

Beret briefly lost the ability to think because of Lynch's answer.

After waiting for seven or eight seconds, he suddenly burst out laughing, "You're such a **** interesting person, Lynch, what did you mean to say you were afraid of dying?"

Lynch really nodded, "I am very afraid of death. When I don't feel death, I am very courageous. When I think I will die, I will bow my head."

"You're the first person to admit that, you're such an interesting person!", Beret looked emotionally unstable and moody.

Many dictators have this trait, most of them are what people call lunatics, which is not to say that the beret has the potential to become a great warlord, but he seems to be "coincident" in terms of character.

He put the gun away again and didn't force Lynch to drink the full glass of wine again, "I was just making a joke with you, friend, how could I do that?"

He picked up the glass in front of him, and the full drink spilled out onto his hands, knees, and expensive carpet.

Just take a big sip, put down the glass after drinking, and wiped his hand stained with wine on the clothes on Lynch's chest, "Since you don't want to drink with me, then I'll go."

After speaking, he got up with a smile, looked down at Lynch for a while, and then turned to leave.

Lynch lay back on the couch, quietly, as if nothing had happened.

The next day, Lynch took a shower in the morning, changed into clean clothes, and chose a tie that wasn't so bright -- bright ties would make him look younger, and what he needed now was convincing of maturity.

Looking in the mirror to make sure there was nothing wrong with him, he left the room.

He lived with the corpse at night, of course he slept on the sofa and the corpse slept on the bed.

But he's not afraid, just a dead man.

He has been doing his own thing since the morning. Some people are very disdainful of his behavior, and some people are very grateful for what he has done for everyone. This obviously contradictory emotion does appear in different people.

Those who feel bad about Lynch always regard him as a robber's partner and turn around to squeeze their own wealth. This is indeed not an experience worth repeating.

At this time in the captain's room, a group of people were destroying various instruments and instruments inside. They even hit the steering wheel in one direction to death and locked it on the steering wheel frame.

The purpose of this, of course, is to prepare to evacuate.

As Lynch said, they don't actually get much cash from this group, and now they can only hope that Lynch's check will be cashed and that he will keep his word.

Berets won't stay here for too long. With so many rich people in the Federation missing, he can guess what the people of the Federation are like now.

They must be out in the navy looking for this ship, and the longer he stays, the more dangerous he is.

Sitting on the small stage on the first deck, he quietly looked at the junction of the sea and the sky in the distance, his eyes seemed to be able to extend infinitely along the sea horizon.

"Chief, we have destroyed the captain's room." It was his adjutant, who was actually a rather pleasing dog.

Today, the dog has some thoughts of his own, "I think we should set another fire to be safer."

Beret gave him a sideways glance, raised his leg and kicked him, "Whoever dares to set fire, I will kill him with my own hands."

In Mariro, all warlords, big and small, are involved in the smuggling business.

Of course, the big warlords are called "foreign trade", and only the small and medium warlords are called smuggling.

Smuggling, we have to mention sea transportation, which is also the most convenient method of smuggling.

The long coastline of the Federation can't be full of coast guards, they always have a way to get in.

At sea, it is often difficult to tell where to go, let alone what to find.

But if there is a plume of smoke at this time, it will immediately attract everyone's attention.

The dog's leg was kicked by the beret and staggered for a few steps before scratching his head and walking back in embarrassment.

"Get some pockets ready. Although we can't get cash this time, the rich have good things on them."

"Take everything they have and do it right away."

The dog is still scratching his head, "If someone resists..."

Beret squinted him again, "I didn't buy you guns for you to play with. If someone resisted, wouldn't you kill those people?"

Soon, the soldiers were divided into teams of three and two, and they went into different cabins with sacks, forcing everyone to hand over anything of value they were carrying.

Faced with these robbers who are finally a bit like robbers, the mood of the rich becomes a little more relaxed.

This is weird?

No, not surprising at all, if the robbers were going to kill them.

The robbers could have killed them first and then took the valuables from their corpses, and now they don't do that because they really don't intend to.

This is the only good news for a while, and the rich are very cooperative, albeit a bit painful.

Lynch took one million from them, and they didn't feel pain, because one million was still far from their psychological bottom line, but they didn't think it was a heavy payment.

And that money also bought a small share of a company, at least psychologically, there won't be much reaction.

But these personal accessories are different, some are orphans, and even things passed down from ancestors, such as jewelry on ladies, and some are more than one million.

In the face of life and wealth, some people make wrong judgments and become negative teaching materials. People know how to choose.

What people didn't expect was that they didn't even let the clothes go!

This made everyone feel ashamed, they were almost naked, exposing their most primitive appearance and state.

Old men with loose skin and tummy, women with sagging sides, men who can't wait to stuff a water glass in their crotch, and ladies who are so loose that they can't find the slightest amorous feelings.

Ugly.

Lynch may be the only one who escapes this embarrassment, but it doesn't matter if he gets rid of him~IndoMTL.com~ It's not him who has low self-esteem anyway.

Beret's sudden decision made Lynch realize that Beret was planning to leave, but Beret never really had absolute control over the ship from the beginning.

He can't get cash, transfer checks can't be used casually, and he has offended so many rich people who can't be killed. After calming down, he finally understands that he messed things up!

If this kind of thing is put in a hundred years, it will definitely not be a problem, and the money will arrive at the touch of a finger.

But this era robs a cruise ship at sea and hijacks a group of rich people without cash, what do you get?

Get nothing.

Since there is nothing to gain, Beret is not going to waste any more time, he is going to retreat.

Then...

Lynch touched his chin.

Would you like to let him go?