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Textile Mill

Editor: Atlas Studios

Wesley was not charmed by the beauty. His hands on the steering wheel were very steady. From time to time, he turned the steering wheel to overtake the car, because the accelerator had been held up by the beauty with the small fire extinguisher in the car. The speeding sports car would not stop unless it hit something.

This time Wesley did not shout for the police, and Beauty did not rely on ramming the police car to call the police, but their gunfight and flying car performance had alerted the police, and the sound of sirens could be heard from far away.

The beautiful woman held two guns in her hands and fired handsomely behind her. However, the person behind her was a top assassin with the same ability as her. It was too difficult to hit him. Wesley was multitasking and his heart was beating fast.

If he hadn't been in a speeding sports car, he would have been more focused. But now he couldn't, because he still needed to look up at the road from time to time, which annoyed him.

"Give me the gun under the seat," the beautiful woman suddenly shouted. Wesley moved quickly and found a double-barreled shotgun with a short barrel. Then he handed it out. "Be careful," he reminded her again. Afraid that she would fall, he hugged her tighter.

The sound of the shotgun was louder, and the pet carrier behind him finally slowed down. It must have hit the engine. Beauty climbed back in and took control of the steering wheel again. Wesley looked in the rearview mirror and saw two bullets arcing toward him. He could see them clearly. The rapid beating of his heart had made his vision, hearing, and sense of smell unusually sharp. He had been in this state for several minutes without realizing it, and he was not in the least uncomfortable.

The tire on the right side was blown up. This was the strength of a top assassin. Wesley was very excited to be able to fight to this extent without wanting to kill him. He would be one of them.

The right tire of the sports car burst, but this did not affect the driving. Because the car was stolen, the beauty naturally did not stop for someone else's car. She reentered the car, moved the fire extinguisher on the accelerator, and held the steering wheel.

"How does it feel?" the beauty asked.

"What? Touch? Oh, that's great. I didn't expect the steering wheel of a sports car to feel like this. Unfortunately, I can't afford it." Wesley led the conversation directly to the car.

"Haha." The beauty smiled and didn't dwell on it. Police cars began to gather here. Wesley waited for the plot of the sports car leap, but it didn't appear this time. Some things changed because of his change. First, there was the problem of the route. He didn't run around, so he got into the car from the back door of the convenience store. Then the whole route was different.

The handsome leap was not realized, but it was safer now. After changing to another car halfway, he arrived at Textile Factory No. 17 without any danger, and he was not carried in unconscious.

"Get out of the car and go through the gate," the beautiful woman said coolly and walked straight in. Wesley followed closely behind her. He was very cautious now. He didn't need to act scared anymore because he was really scared. This is a wolf's den. It would be strange if he wasn't scared.

Apple was responsible for recording the route they took, and Wesley was just looking here and there. He was taken to an office area, which was full of flies. Wesley had to think about it. "They didn't deliberately make this place so dirty to beat off the wings of flies, did they?"

"Sit down" beautiful women always have so little to say. Wesley sat at a desk and looked around. A fat man should have the nickname "Butcher" for a knife expert, a black man should have the nickname "Gunsmith" for a gun expert, and a thin white man should have the nickname "Repairman". With the addition of the beautiful woman "Fox" who sent him here, the main characters are basically all here except for Sloan.

"You're much calmer than I thought." Wesley looked up and saw an old black man. This is Sloan. He does look a lot like Morgan Freeman. Wesley looked at him and said, "The exciting experience last night has been experienced, so I can still stay calm now. In addition, I need to remind you that I'm an accountant, and a poor one at that. Maybe you can call my boss, Janice. I think she's more useful than me." Wesley spoke incoherently in his composure, giving people a more panicked feeling.

That was how he understood it. The incoherent words in a panic didn't work well. He was scared now, but he pretended to be calm and then said the lines from the movie. The effect was really good. Sloan walked over with a smile and handed him a gun. "Take it and shoot down the wings of the fly." He pointed to the wastebasket next to him.

"Are you kidding me?" Wesley said, still pretending to be calm.

The sound of a gun being loaded came from behind him and a metal object pressed against his head. "Either you shoot me or I'll shoot you. I'll only count to three."

Wesley took the gun in a hurry, and then his heart began to beat fast. He did not control it, but he was really nervous the moment he held the gun. Everything began to slow down. He slowly saw the trajectory of the flies and their almost transparent wings. Bang! He clearly saw the bullet from his gun hit the wings on the side of the flies accurately, and he fired again and hit them again. He fired only twice.

Breathing heavily, he pretended to walk to the side, put the gun on his lap, and took out a bottle of medicine. The reason why he only fired two shots was that he was saving bullets. He didn't know this kind of pistol at all, and he wasn't familiar with how many bullets were in it. Now he needed to act, and he didn't have time to communicate with Apple. He took out the medicine bottle on his body.

Although he no longer takes this kind of neurosuppressive drug, a regular bottle is more effective on the body. His hands trembled as he opened the bottle. Sloan had picked up the fly he had hit and walked over to press his hand down. Then he took the bottle as he spoke and put the fly on his hand. "Before today, many things were impossible for you, and you didn't have an anxiety attack just now. Your heart beats more than 400 times a minute, producing a lot of adrenaline, which makes you observe and react faster than ordinary people."