After a leisurely walk away from the North Gate Commercial Street, Lao Luo flashed into the nearby alley, turned two corners and walked into a dead end.

Standing in front of the dilapidated gray wall, his hand extended to the wall and suddenly smiled.

"Come out, don't follow."

The crisp applause sounded, a man with a felt hat and a black old suit walked into the alley.

"Oh, there are two things."

The five men standing behind him are equally black suits.

Six automatic rifles were in their hands, and six men stood at the intersection of the dead end, blocking the only retreat of Lao Luo.

Looking at the old Luo who had no way to escape, the man smiled happily.

"When did you notice it?"

"From the time you stared at me," Ronaldinho grinned, and the shadow of the hutong blocked the disdainful expression on his face.

"Oh?" The man raised his eyebrows with interest. "That's interesting. But anyone with a little IQ shouldn't be stupid enough to go into a dead end from the net.... Or are you lost?"

Lao Luohe smiled and did not answer, but asked.

"Who sent you? Church? Wan Manager? Or the famous Ding leader?"

The man did not answer, just looked at Lao Luo with a smile.

Seeing that men don't talk, Lao Luo laughs.

"Wait... It won't be what the tigers help?"

“Who is important?” the man whispered, snapping a finger. “You just need to know that someone wants your life. This is enough.”

The five gunmen behind the man brushed the rifle up and took a half step forward. The black hole's muzzle swayed at the old Luo in the dead end, and sealed all his living paths.

"Good night." Gently lowered the hat of the top of the felt hat, the man said in a hoarse voice, "Be a good dream."

Lao Luo smiled.

"good night."

The slender dagger of the scalpel slipped from his cuff and was expertly pinched at his fingertips.

Under the dim moonlight, the silver wire seemed to be shimmering, so undetectable.

Such as the light feathers, like the shackles of the **** of death, the unspoken words, blowing down the wind to the ears of the black people.

"You are the same, a good dream."

......

Ping An Street has already slept, but the Pan Asia Building in the center is now brightly lit.

In the dead city of Shangjing, like the candlelight of the civilized world, the last lingering swaying in the dark night.

In the conference room of the Pan-Asian Building, where the Pan-Asian high-level cabinet meeting was held, the senior officials of the Shangjing Survivors Alliance held another meeting.

However, the nature of this meeting is somewhat different from that of the last meeting. The number of attendees is less than half of the previous ones. They are representatives of the forces working in this Pan-Asian building, such as the head of Ding, the manager of Wan, and so on.

Like Xu Tiannan, although he is the archbishop of the cemetery, the entire cemetery sect has migrated from Jiuquan. He can only be regarded as a foreigner in Shangjing City. Even if his strength is not weak, he still cannot squeeze in. In the core circle of Ping An Street.

Sitting at the conference table, Mayor Liu sighed.

“The four-point sub-gate city gate tax is still too high, and the survivors reacted a lot. The City Hall received a thousand complaint letters today.”

Among all the people sitting here, as the mayor, I am afraid the one who has the most power.

The reason why he pushed his powerless person to the position of the listing is probably the result of mutual compromise between the survivors. If you don't Ding Liwei or Wan Peng, anyone can easily sit in this position, and it can be better and more stable than him.

“More?” Wan Peng snorted. “I still feel a little less.”

Because nac opened his mouth, he was recently bleeding, and there was a million in the storeroom. Even with the financial resources of his Sunday club, this million-point sub-crystal is a big expense.

"We only got five million," Ding Liwei said. "After all, our expenses are not small. It is impossible to squeeze out tens of millions of Yajing to nac. The city gate tax will continue to maintain the four-point sub-crystal. No matter how much resistance, it must be carried out. At least it will last until the spring of next year. This is our bottom line."

The factory needs sub-crystals, workers and soldiers also need sub-crystals, and the profit from hunting is just a drop in the bucket. The capital chain and the supply chain are mixed together. Although they are very rich, they have to be cautious in the issue of Yajing, and they are not allowed to be sloppy.

"I mean, at least to make the news public."

"Impossible," Wan Peng interrupted the words of Mayor Liu. "Are you considering the consequences of publicity? Why do we want to block the news of the Badaling military outpost at all costs? Think about it, Mayor Liu, if you let Ping An Street The survivors know that hundreds of cccp tanks have been opened to the gates of Shangjing City."

"The news will be spread sooner or later." Mayor Liu smiled bitterly.

"At that time, I will say," Wan Peng said, staring at him. "At that time, we naturally let them believe that the tanks are not directed at us."

Mayor Liu still wants to say something, but in the end, he slammed back and said nothing.

Wan Peng’s opinion is naturally a consensus after the discussion of the Shangyu Survivors Alliance. With a mayor in his district, there is no qualification for commenting, let alone changing the minds of so many big people.

"The next question." Ding Liwei looked at the meeting table, the man wearing glasses.

The man wearing glasses nodded. "The next question. The cemetery plan is transferred to Ping An Street within three days. Xu Tiannan asked us to arrange a place for their people, preferably at the East Gate of Ping An Street, because of their The station is closer to the East Gate."

"Is he not staying in the gym," Ding Liwei frowned.

"Because Russians."

Russians.

I don't know who said this.

When the word appeared on the conference table, the whole room suddenly fell silent.

After a long time.

"Approved," Ding Liwei slowly opened his way and looked at Mayor Liu. "You will arrange it, split a part of the slums at the East Gate and move to the open space of the West Gate."

"Okay." Mayor Liu nodded.

"Going right now."

"Yes……"

Mayor Liu simply packed up the things on the table and got up and left the conference table.

The door of the conference room was closed.

After a while, someone opened the silence.

"Russians are in the subway."

"Damn!" Wan Peng slammed on the table with a fist, and gnashed his teeth. "Which group of old hairs went bad, why did you choose the subway!"

Ding Liwei's face is not very good looking.

Obviously, he also cursed the Russians in their hearts.

The man in the windbreaker sighed and said nothing from the beginning of the meeting. He spoke for the first time.

"What should we do now?"

"First stop the project, wait for the old Maozi and the nac to go and say," Ding Liwei slightly frowned at the subway line on the holographic map. "Fortunately, on line 35... I hope they don't What will be found. As long as they don't go there, everything is fine."

"Stop work? That line, I am going to the construction site now." The windbreaker man stood up and walked to the door.

"Wait." Ding Liwei suddenly stopped him.

"What else?" The footstep stopped at the door, and the windbreaker turned over.

Seriously staring at him, Ding Liwei said in a word.

"You must find the old Luo."

The windbreaker man was slightly decapitated and whispered.

"rest assured."

"He can't run." (To be continued~^~)