【 General Anh My 】 Great Pursuit At The Next Door

Anthony walked into the lobby of the hotel, his eyes wandering around in the yellowish light, and quickly found his target.

His senior rose from a soft armchair. Forren was still emaciated, wearing a dark gray trench coat and a black gentleman's hat, the brim of which cast a large shadow on his face. The slightly curly black hair flowed from between the hat and the collar with a wonderful sheen. Wearing black gloves and a cigar between his slender fingers, he had clearly lit it for a short time, and he stood up and threw it in the trash without hesitation, then opened his arms to Anthony.

Anthony trotted two steps, threw himself into his arms, then turned his head and sneezed half-truthfully: "I remember you didn't smoke."

"I really don't smoke," Foran said, letting go of Anthony slightly, taking off the glove of his right hand with his left hand, and stroking Anthony's face with his right hand, "It's just a cigar to create a little atmosphere, and it can also be used as a perfume." It is said that some women like the smell of smoke and hate yellow teeth. His

hands were weak, but their fingertips were rough, similar to Anthony's, the signs of potion corrosion.

Anthony didn't dodge, just enjoyed the feeling of magic pouring in: "Then I don't like the smell of smoke or yellow fangs." "

And what do you like?"

"Apple pie and chocolate brownie." Anthony replied casually, taking a step back.

"That's why your face is rounded?"

"yes, I've got someone to feed you." You're getting thinner, are you imitating the wizard in the fairy tale?"

Foran led him to the elevator hall: "Of course I have someone to 'feed', and it can be a different person every day."

Anthony rolled his eyes and followed him into the elevator. The elevator is as smooth as a mirror on all sides, and Anthony directly uses it as a mirror. Forren was about the same height as him, completely uneroded by the years, and was obviously several years older than Anthony, and looked younger than Anthony. Obviously with a long face and an old face.

Forun's face has always been bad—maybe it's because it's too white, it's miserable, but compared to the clown, it's still less dead and more mysterious. He is not handsome, but he has always had a melancholy and mysterious temperament, and he is very capable of bluffing.

Anthony knew he was the one who feared chaos in the world. He made drugs in Chicago, and making money was part of it, but the more important reason was to make it more chaotic. The Chicago Police Department should be glad that Foran is not like the Joker, he himself is desperate for his life.

Anthony followed Foran into a room, walked across the porch, crossed Foran's shoulder, and saw a woman in only her underwear sitting on a leather couch. It should be a senior call girl.

The woman had standard blonde hair and blue eyes, and when she raised her head, she closed the book in her hand, put it aside, stood up, stepped on a catwalk, and put herself on Foren's shoulder, but her eyes looked at Anthony: "Are you back? Do you want to continue?" Anthony

took a step back, he had a boyfriend, he had to clean himself. No, he doesn't play like this when he doesn't have a boyfriend.

Foran said to her, "Go out and wait for me." The

woman got dressed and went out, and Anthony carefully got out of the way, sat down on the couch, and glanced at the cover of the book.

"The Setting Sun".

Literate call girl.

Foran poured him a glass of whiskey and said with a smile, "You look too well-behaved, it's a novelty for these seasoned women."

Anthony looked down at his outfit. The teacher's dress code is not strict, he is dressed indecently today, with a shirt inside and a sweatshirt with a hat on the outside, and he looks silly. He took a sip and said calmly, "You look very unusual, at least no one on the street is dressed like you." Anyway, you are really willing, she should be charged on time, and she is also charged for the time she waits.

Forren: "How much is it worth, a considerable part of the money these women make is used to decorate themselves, so that they can look like celebrities, in fact, it is not the original one."

Anthony didn't think the girl was a pseudonym, but he didn't continue the conversation.

After lashing out at each other, they sat down and talked calmly. Foran knew that Anthony was in the limit transition, so he got down to business first.

"This is the information of the target.

Anthony picked it up and looked at it: "Can you kill a target in the middle of the night, is the physical condition really suitable?"

Forlen: "You have to envy some people whose biological clock is reversed, and besides, being a journalist in Chicago, you almost have to stay up late." The news is all at night.

"Reporter?"

Anthony flipped back to the first page to take a closer look, yes, a young reporter with dark brown curly hair and azure eyes. Anthony felt a little uncomfortable.

It just so happened that he also offended people, solved it together, and sold others a favor.

Anthony flipped through the pages. The gangs in Chicago are very powerful, and they are much more cohesive and executing than those in Gotham, and have formed a complete group. This 124-page information even clearly states which hospital the target went to on which day and year, and it is simply no underwear.

He exhaled heavily, put the information on the coffee table in front of him, and took a sip of whiskey. "Are you sure killing him won't cause you any trouble

?" Forren took off his hat and put it on the side of the sofa, looking up at him with a falcon-like gaze, "When did little Anthony become so empathetic?" or... Because it's too similar to your little boyfriend, you're reluctant to do it?"

Anthony closed his eyes: "Indeed, there will be a little sense of substitution.

Foran sat down beside him and gently put his hand on the top of his hair: "It's okay, if you find the problem in time, you can fix it." It's just a small role, it's a heart you need, nothing more.

"As for your little boyfriend, Anthony, that's just a small part of what you planned, and what's important, I think you know for yourself. Don't waste too much emotion, that's not an earthling.

Anthony didn't refute, just changed the subject: "It's late at night, when can I get it?"

Foran looked out the window: "Soon." He's in the building across the street tonight, with his little girlfriend.

Anthony heard the faint sounds of burning and explosions, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window to look down. On the other side, it is also a relatively high-end residential building, about the tenth floor, which is on fire. The fire spread very quickly, quickly moving from the window of the living room to the window of another room.

There were no screams, no cries for help.

Anthony put his hand on the glass, as if sensing the heat of the flames. Foran walked up to him, "Look, the heart has been sent to the underground parking lot."

Anthony didn't show up, it was Foran who went down and fetched a black box. Anthony didn't open it, he didn't really want to smell blood right now.

Time was pressing, Anthony quickly took out his lead box and put it on, and then Foran used magic to forge it into two cans of beef, and then put a big box on the outside, and the empty room was filled with some small candies, which was just a gift box for children. Eventually, Foran found a document bag and loaded it into Anthony's suitcase along with the box.

"Your people are so efficient. "It's not like the group of people under my command, who are good for nothing but to hide their identities.

Forlen: "Do you want to take a turn?" "

Forget it, no one wants to go to Gotham."

Anthony walked out of the hotel with his heavy suitcase, and Foran thoughtfully helped him straighten his collar and hugged him again. "No, you have a thin sweatshirt, why is it so thick to hold?"

Anthony blinked: "This is Chicago, and I'm wearing a bulletproof vest."

Foran laughed dumbly, and finally gave him a classical veneer salute under the streetlamp, and whispered, "Don't get carried away by love, little Anthony."

Anthony stuck with him for more than ten seconds, carrying the box and getting into the black guy's car. The sedan started smoothly, brushed shoulders with fire trucks and police cars on the street, and soon lost sight of the fire. Anthony leaned against the window in a daze, as if he had smelled a little blood, as if there was none.