Super Detective in the Fictional World

The two strong men next to the middle-aged man in the tattoo shot without hesitation, and the crackling shot sounded.

Luke's figure suddenly crossed a meter, bowed out, and just drilled out of a tattoo middle-aged and a strong man, behind them.

Luke pulled the M1911 out of his tattoo, didn't raise his gun, just turned the gun around a bit.

Boom!

Two strong men with guns turned their hands in half and drowned, each with an extra hole in their head.

Luke sighed again: "So, isn't it good to have money? Must fight to kill.” By the time I said that, the gunshot had been lifted.

The middle-aged man with the tattoo was sweating, and even though the hair on the back of his head was roasted by a burning gun, he dared not move.

“Yes, yes, we can talk, we can talk.” His eyes were giving the other three eyes, his body pounding to the side.

The young man with bare arms and another young man across the street carrying a gun at the same time.

Boom!

There was a hole in the brains of the two men.

Luke whispered, lowered his arm, and pulled the trigger with his hand.

Boom!

He just hit the tattoo next to him and got shot in the butt, screaming to cover his butt and rolling on the ground.

Luke looked down at the door and there was a man.

This is the only person in the house who hasn't raised a gun and hasn't moved from beginning to end: "Why don't you do it? ”

This man is actually the big boy who received Luke's lollipop. He heard his lips tremble a few times and didn't say anything.

Luke smiled softly, turning the lollipop from left to right, lifting a small piece of the right parchment: “You're smarter than them...”

Between the words, he drowned again at the gunpoint of the fire.

Boom!

The tattoo screamed louder in middle age, but Luke shot him in the knee.

“Smart people make the right choices at the right time. And your brain...” Luke crouched down and looked ridiculously at the tattoo on the ground middle-aged: “... not even a child. ”

The middle-aged man in the tattoo was sweating and moaning painfully in his mouth, but he didn't forget to ask for forgiveness intermittently: "Let go, let go of me, I'll give you anything you want. ”

Luke shook his head: "Say you're stupid and you don't admit it. My request is always there, why pretend not to hear it? ”

Boom!

The tattoo screamed again in midlife, but the knee on the other leg was also broken.

Luke didn't let him struggle this time, stepped on him, searched him, found a magazine to replace: “Now I have seven bullets, do you think I'll hit left hand or right hand first? After the fight, I can still beat your little Tintin..."

Speaking of which, he didn't lift his head, either.

Boom, boom!

Two men with rifles rushing in through the door fell on their backs and were also shot in the eyebrows.

Middle-aged and painfully screamed, “No, I said, I said. What do you want to know? ”

Luke shook his head helplessly: "How did your memory come to this point? Lisa Von, the Mexican doctor, she! Yes, where? ”

Middle-life tattoos don't hesitate this time: "Christo, Christo's people took her. ”

“Where did you take it?” Luke asked, walking up to the door without looking out the door, twisting his wrist and poking out the gun.

Boom, boom, boom!

“Ah!”

“Ah!”

Two screams, coupled with the sound of the body rolling over, were the two bandits who snuck up and were beaten down the stairs.

The middle-aged man in the tattoo looked at Luke's every move and froze in his heart.

Luke's every move was too relaxing and definitely a professional!

He replied hastily: "I, I don't know...”

Boom!

“Ahhh.”

Tattoo middle-aged struggled on the ground again, and Luke hit his right hand again: “Just say the answer, or you'll only die a little more painfully. ”

Desperate in the middle of the tattoo, he didn't know much about it, and just a few words threw up the news of the Christo gang.

Luke gets the information he needs, raises his hand and raises his gun: “Give you a piece of advice and don't rob if you can do business well in the next life. ”

Tattooed with a prayer: “Can you...”

Boom!

“Well, of course not!” Luke ended his problem with action.

After grabbing the guns from the two strong men at random, and searching for the 10,000 dollar knife from the dead tattoo, he smiled at the big boy who had been watching all this quietly at the corner of the door.

“See? If you want to be a bad guy, you might run into me one day. And I, like, met the bad guys the most.” He stepped out of the door: "Good luck to you all your life. ”

Boom, boom!

Two screams rang outside, and two more nearby bandits were struck down.

Then there was a panicked gunshot, and a moment later, someone was screaming, “Where are the people? Where'd he go? ”

“Didn't see it, couldn't find it...”

“Go check on the boss...”

“Boss, boss is dead. Mario and Sanchez are dead, too. They're all dead...”

The big boy in the corner, watching a crowd pour in, shouting around the boss's body.

Looking at the boss with his head open, the big boy flashed his mind about the old boss, and his ears seemed to ring again: I, like, met the bad guy the most.

With that phrase, that smiling face seemed to reappear.

He had to strike a spirit and quietly retreated from the loud room.

He withdrew a long way before lifting his hand, where he held an unbroken lollipop.

He didn't point his gun at Luke just now because of this lollipop.

And because of this lollipop, it made him the only person in the house who survived.

Raising the pistol in his other hand and listening to the noise in the house in the distance, he thought, sticking the pistol in the back of his ass and sneaking back home.

When the crowd panicked, Luke had already entered the lower building from a gap between the two small buildings.

He slipped across the crevices of more than a dozen small buildings and crossed into a “big” street.

Two-way bike lanes in this slum are definitely streets.

As he jumped out of the cleavage of the small building, his movements immediately returned to normal and he casually followed a group of visitors who had just walked by.

The guide also spoke Chinese, and there were many Chinese in the group, which made him feel quite friendly.

Dozens of meters away, the disturbances over there are already hard to hear, but the narratives in the guide's mouth make Luke's listening interesting.

One of the aunts of the tour group next to her suddenly noticed Luke behind her and asked strangely, "You don't seem to be from our group? ”

Luke laughed.

The old lady looked at his cheerful smile and stunned, clapping her forehead: “Forget that you are a foreigner and do not understand Chinese. ”