The man shook his fingers: "My chest must be very broad. All the beautiful girls who have lived in the bird here say so, but what I show you is a suit, a pure black suit. I bought it yesterday."

suit? Bill didn't understand.

The man said helplessly: "You are a gentleman, but unfortunately you are not humorous enough. A pure black suit can only be worn on two occasions, one for a wedding and one for a funeral."

Bill finally understood, and said in surprise and expectation:

"President, what do you mean, you want to bury them personally? Do you know where they are, and do you need help from your subordinates?"

The man didn't answer, he ate the last piece of steak slowly, and then said with a smile:

"Your mission was to bring them here, and it was done beautifully."

Mr. Bill was taken aback, and suddenly turned his head to look out the window. At some time, all the street lights on the street were extinguished. The restaurant was brightly lit, but it was pitch black and silent outside.

I'm being followed by the Dionysus Club? This, it can be hidden from my perception, at least Mr. Bill, who is at the master level, shuddered, but he was not overly panicked.

He even figured out the context of the whole incident for a moment. On the surface, the Dionysus Club was hiding in a low-key manner, but in fact it had already been secretly targeting him. Maybe he was targeted when he was attacked that day.

The alcoholics wanted to find the president through him, and the president had already expected that today's meeting was the president's use of him for fishing.

The choice of the CBD area in the early morning is precisely because there are no residential buildings nearby. Even if there is a fight, ordinary people will not be accidentally injured, and there is no need to worry about the problem of moral value being reset.

"Do you still have the steak?"

The president wearing half a silver mask suddenly pointed to the dinner plate in front of Bill, where he had leftover half of his steak.

When is this, do you still care about steak? The little soul in Mr. Bill's body was roaring, superficially submissive:

"No, don't eat"

The president nodded, picked up the plate with one hand, and pressed Bill's shoulder with the other.

Bill's eyes dazzled, and he found himself outside the restaurant. Looking around, the entire CBD area was pitch black, as if someone had cut off the power.

The president raised his head, looked at the rooftop of the office building diagonally opposite, and said casually:

"Are you the only ruler of chaos? Are there any reinforcements? If so, come out quickly. It's almost dawn, and I have to bring breakfast for my wife."

Bill raised his head hurriedly, and saw a tall figure standing on the top of a hundred-story office building. It was a burly old man with a printed square scarf around his neck, and a high felt hat with a wide brim on his head. It is sunken downwards, and the silver hair is exposed at the edge.

He was wearing jeans with a holster strapped to his thigh, and a silver large-caliber pistol was stuck in the holster.

He has a rough face, deep eye sockets, and a silver stubble around his mouth.

"Cowboy Locke?"

Bill's face changed slightly.

As the saint of the Merchant Guild, he subconsciously read the title of this master, Cowboy Locke, one of the three peak masters of the Dionysus Club.

His main prop is a pistol. It is said that anyone who is targeted by him will die under the gun.

His bullets were fired without fail, and his guns killed people. Even the masters of the same realm, facing the black hole of the gun, they would only be beaten.

"Of course I'm not the only one," the old cowboy on the rooftop said calmly, "All three of us are here."

After the words were finished, Bill heard the slight sound of high heels coming from the left side of the street. Following the sound, a tall and graceful figure approached slowly. JrNovels.com