The gentleman sitting opposite Sanchez was a little uneasy.

A person like Sanchez is not a good thing at first glance. His face, head, back of hands and wrists are either scars or tattoos. How could such a person be a "good person"?

This gentleman wanted to change his position, but he felt that his sudden change of position might irritate the gang member who had been staring at him. He could only continue to pretend to be reading the newspaper.

"Hey, give me your newspaper."

The fierce man on the other side spoke. The man reading the newspaper didn't respond at first, and then nodded again and again, "It just so happens that I have finished reading it too, just..."

He saw a one-dollar banknote. He didn't know whether to accept it or not. He thought it was a "robbery" with a case value of only fifty cents. Now it seems that not only is it not a robbery, but he also earned fifty cents.

Just when he hesitated, Sanchez leaned forward, stuffed a dollar into the other's chest pocket, and then took the newspaper in the other's hand.

"Although it is very vicious, he should be a good person." The gentleman reading the newspaper thought so. At least the other party gave him the money politely and took the newspaper. This shows that the other party is a civilized person.

Since he is a civilized person, he can't make random guesses based on the appearance of the opponent.

He turned his head and looked at the scenery outside the car window, as if the dark night that never changed, like the ink in an ink bottle, was the most wonderful view at this moment.

Sanchez was holding the newspaper, and the blue veins on his neck rolled up.

The photo in the newspaper was a snap shot, and Lynch was walking among the crowd. This photo happened to capture his profile surrounded by the crowd.

Handsome, handsome, with an unspeakable temperament penetrated the newspaper and rushed towards his face.

But Sanchez was very angry.

This is a thief, a thief, he stole his own wealth!

Now the problem has become more troublesome. It is not as simple as trying to persuade his uncle, but to persuade Lynch who is richer, has more status and power in the Federation.

This makes everything troublesome.

At the same time, a sudden murderous intent flashed in Sanchez's heart, and he could now kill his uncle without hesitation.

But before that, he had to fix Lynch first!

The next day, when the newspaper man woke up, the fierce guy was gone. He tidied up his clothes and walked out of the car with his briefcase.

At the moment his leather shoes set foot on Bupen's land, an aura of "social elite" surged crazily from his body.

Soon, he mixed into the crowd and disappeared.

He did not notice that there are many police officers near the station, at least more than usual. These police officers maintain order when necessary. Those who can really play a role are the secret agents hidden in the crowd.

But they are destined to have no gain this time, because Sanchez had already jumped off the train when the train was about to arrive at Buppen Station.

He would like to thank the federal technology level for not allowing the trains here to speed more than 100 kilometers per hour, otherwise he would not be as simple as getting up and walking when he fell from the car. He might lose his little boy. Life.

He changed his outfit a little bit, and a homeless man entered Buppen along with the homeless man who entered the city.

In fact, there are not many homeless people in Buppen. Everything here is very expensive, and the burden of living on the homeless people is also very heavy, and those social elites in Buppen lack sympathy and compassion.

But after all, some people are still unwilling to leave. After all, this is the core of the Federation, and even the food at the rescue station is better than other places.

No one cares if a homeless man will enter the city in the morning, let alone check their identity.

Dirty Sanchez entered the city without contacting anyone, especially Marillo's general.

Now international calls still need to be transferred manually. He can't pick up the phone like a fool and tell the transferor that he is a **** badass and is now exposing his goal.

What he has to do now is to find a way to chat with Lynch, but first of all he needs to have a gun.

Weapons are the basis of friendly communication. He understood this truth with a gun and a bullet when he was eight years old, and this truth swelled his wrist for more than a week.

He came to a somewhat remote antique shop, the owner is a man in his forties.

He was wiping some antiques, and when Sanchez came in, he glanced up, then lowered his head to do his own thing.

Sanchez walked to the counter, looked at the environment here, and then made his request, "I need a gun..."

The boss said without looking up, "Sorry, if you want weapons, please go to the supermarket or the weapon shop. We don't sell weapons here."

The federal sales of weapons also require a license, which is related to the issue of the outflow of weapons.

Sanchez took out all the money on his body, more than one thousand six hundred yuan, and patted it on the table.

Two more coins rolled on the ground unobservantly, making a crisp crashing sound. He glanced sideways at the silver-plated candle holder not far away, "I need a gun."

The owner of the antique shop put down his work and looked up and down Sanchez. He stretched out his hand and opened the collar of Sanchez and saw the tattoo inside.

Such things as tattoos have a certain meaning.

Religious meanings, or the nature of a gang, police officers, government workers, do not get tattooed easily. The tattoo on Sanchez's chest clearly makes him look like a gang member.

The antique shop owner then released his hand and shook his head, "Not enough money."

This time, instead of letting Sanchez leave, but saying that the money was not enough, Sanchez frowned, "There are almost 1,800 yuan here."

"You can go to the weapons store diagonally across the road to buy a weapon with a federally registered gun number for 1,350 yuan, and then you have to show your gun license and social security number, and finally they pay it back I can send you a hundred bullets."

The owner of the antique shop is still that amazing. He tapped his finger on the counter, "But with me, one thousand eight hundred yuan is not enough. You need two thousand five hundred yuan to buy a gun, and I Only seven bullets for you."

"NS!"

Sanchez kicked the counter.

"Now it's two thousand six hundred yuan, you can kick a few more times, I don't mind!"

The owner of the antique shop looked at Sanchez's dangerous eyes and opened his clothes without hesitation. There was a holster inside, the lock of the holster was opened, and there was a pistol inside.

Sanchez went back and forth two times, he was really out of money, he searched every place where he could make money, except for a tenth coin, nothing more.

But the antique shop owner's uncompromising attitude made him a little crazy.

"Do you have pliers?" he asked suddenly.

"That thing is very cheap, only two yuan." The antique shop owner put a second-hand pliers on the counter.

Sanchez slapped his hands on the counter fiercely, and with a bang, the antique shop owner's hand was inserted into his arms.

He stared at the boss fiercely. After staring for a while, he suddenly picked up the pliers and stuffed it into his mouth.

In a shout like the whole person was torn apart, he forcibly pulled out a **** tooth.

There was a diamond on it, which was his worm tooth.

His doctor helped him repair the wormhole. When preparing to backfill, he asked the doctor what was the hardest thing and would not be damaged so easily.

The doctor told him it was a diamond, so he asked him to find a similar diamond and stuff it into his tooth.

"Bah..." He spit out blood and slapped the pliers on the counter fiercely, "This, add 1,800 yuan, for a pistol and a box of bullets."

The antique shop owner was also stunned by such ruthless people. He didn't use anesthetics and pulled out his teeth abruptly. The pain was only one aspect. The cruel heart showed that the person in front of him was definitely not an ordinary gang member.

He was silent for a moment, and took out a box from somewhere under the counter~lightnovelpub.net~ There was a pistol in it.

"The military-made gun that has just been retired has erased its gun number and serial number, and no one can track it down." He said, putting a box of bullets on the table again, "Fifty bullets."

Sanchez vomited two more **** mouths in the process. He raised his head and glanced at the antique shop owner, "Are there any painkillers?"

The boss hesitated, then took out a small bottle and poured out a few pills, "Special medicine, even if someone cuts off your head within three hours after taking it, you won't feel it."

Sanchez nodded, took one directly into his mouth, and swallowed it mixed with blood.

He quickly checked the pistol and left with the pistol and bullets.

The sunlight outside the house was just right, and he lowered his head, and his cheeks gradually began to red and swell.

He tore a piece of cloth from his clothes, rubbed it tightly, stuffed it into the wound in his mouth, and then clenched it tightly.

There is no pain, but the sense of touch is still there, which is amazing.

He even felt a little floating when he was walking, as if he had eaten poisonous mushrooms by mistake.

This also reminded him of another big business on the border, the smuggling and sales of grimacing mushrooms.

Thinking of these messy things, he avoided the road and walked along the small road towards the city center. He had to see Lin Qi first.

At the same time, the entire Bupene defense system was activated.

Following the confirmation of the federal wanted order, all major TV stations interrupted the news this morning. The newspaper man on the way found that the person on the wanted order seemed to be the guy sitting opposite him.

He immediately found the nearest police station and explained his situation.

After the FBI agent took over and asked several times, he left the police station, and everyone knew that Sanchez was back.