Chapter 522 [Enter the game, cooperate]

New York, Brooklyn.

January 1, 2003, morning.

After the all-night New Year's party, this world-famous metropolis seems to be still suffering from a hangover. Although Christmas is more important to this country, the New Year's Eve atmosphere is still hyped up.

Occasionally, you can see pedestrians on the street who wake up in the morning and look obviously drunk and confused. There are also some young girls with messy makeup and regret and exhaustion left after carnival on their faces.

A police car parked on the side of the road, and the two NYPD officers in the police car stared at the entrance of a restaurant across the road for a long time.

The policeman in the car was very fat, holding a donut in one hand and coffee in the other.

Well... the NYPD's obesity problem is very famous among police circles around the world.

The person being stared at by these two policemen was obviously a little suspicious.

There's a black-owned restaurant across the road - it's a barbecue restaurant that sells ribs.

However, there was a white man sitting at the table at the door.

He has a clean shaven head, a burly figure, broad shoulders, and muscles that bulge out of his canvas coat. The facial features on his face look very strong.

Let’s put it this way, this is a face that is not surprising at all when the police come to check your documents while walking on the street.

What surprised the two NYPD officers even more was that this was a black area, and in a black restaurant, a single white man was sitting here - and he seemed to be wearing expensive clothes.

Isn't he afraid of being robbed?

as well as……

How can anyone eat barbecued ribs at eight o'clock in the morning?

·

"You're causing trouble for me, Varnell."

In the barbecue restaurant, the black boss sighed helplessly, sat behind the counter and spoke angrily.

Varnell grinned, retracted his glance at the police car across the road, and smiled at the black boss: "Don't worry, old friend, I'm not here to cause trouble for you, I just need a little help."

"But you have already caused trouble." The black boss looked old and thin, but his eyes that occasionally turned were liqueur with a hint of cunning and ferocity.

Vanel stared at this guy, then changed his tone and said coldly: "If I remember correctly, you owe me your life."

"...Okay." The black boss breathed out: "What do you want?"

"I heard that Nolan is doing very well in New York recently."

"..."

The black boss stopped talking.

"I just need his contact information, a phone number." Varnell grinned: "A phone number - the phone number itself can't speak, and it won't tell Nolan who gave it to me.

.”

"I have retired." The black boss frowned.

"But you were once a member of the company, and as a member of the B-level field team, I remember that the retirement benefits were very high. I also know that you still have many old friends in the company."

"You also have many old friends." The black boss said coldly.

"So I came to see you - you see, I regard you as an old friend."

The black boss curled his lips and finally sighed: "Okay, I don't have Nolan's phone number right now. I need to ask about it."

Varnell quickly reported a mobile phone number: "This is my phone number in New York. When you have news, send it to me."

"I'll do it as soon as possible - but I hope this is the last time we see each other."

"Don't worry." Vanel has already stood up: "I promise I won't trouble you again."

"Those two police officers are coming, you'd better leave quickly." The black boss frowned.

"Speaking of which... working in this small shop, isn't your life miserable?" Varnell said with a smile: "I bet you might have to pay protection fees to those Niggers every week.

Is this really a comfortable life when you have to endure a bunch of bed bugs that you can crush with two fingers and come to your door every week to blackmail you?"

"Nig? Did you forget that you are talking to a black man right now?"

"Have you forgotten that I paid for your plastic surgery and skin transplantation?" Vanel counterattacked unceremoniously.

"...Get out of here." The black boss rolled his eyes.

Vanel laughed, stood up and left. When he walked out of the store, he turned around with a smile and cursed: "I still like the way you looked when you were white-skinned, old friend, but you are so stupid now."

·

Whistling and walking out of the barbecue restaurant, Varnell even took the initiative to wave to the police car across the street.

This action immediately made the two NYPD's faces look unhappy.

Then, the guy whistled, walked slowly across the road, and finally walked around to the police car.

The two policemen suddenly felt like they were facing a formidable enemy and lowered their car windows.

"Why are you two police officers staring at me? I am a law-abiding citizen."

"Abiding by the law?" The policeman sitting in the driver's seat smiled disdainfully: "Here in Brooklyn, we say abiding by the law. You are very humorous."

Varnell shrugged.

Perhaps this dismissive gesture angered the other party, and the police quickly got out of the car - both of them together.

The co-pilot was standing on the other side of the car, his hand on his waist picking up the handle of the gun.

The policeman in the driver's seat got out of the car and stood in front of Vanel, then frowned and took two steps back. Only when he was standing on the ground did he feel that Vanel was at least a head taller than him, and the feeling of oppression was a bit strong.

"Show me your ID."

"Who the hell goes out with that thing?" Varnell smiled.

The policeman said coldly: "Then give me your social security number! Also, raise your hands so I can see your hands."

"Is that correct? I'm white. Did you misjudge my skin?" Varnell was still smiling: "Just because I came out in a black shop? So you suspect that I am a criminal?"

"Hands! I want to see your hands!" the policeman shouted sternly. He had already held down his gun.

Varnell looked up at the sky - the weather today was not very good, it was cloudy and the sun could not be seen.

"It might rain in the morning." Varnell muttered.

"What did you say?"

Varnell stared into the white policeman's eyes: "I said, you are a fucking idiot!"

Before he finished speaking, the white policeman saw a fist appear in front of him, and then his body flew into the air!

The moment his body took off, Varnell had already grabbed the belt around his waist and quickly pulled out the pistol from his gun bag!

The policeman on the other side of the car obviously moved a little slowly - probably because he had eaten too many donuts, and because he was overweight, his movement to draw the gun was blocked by the fat under his arm.

Card!

Hearing the sound of the safety opening and seeing the gun pointed at him, the fat policeman very wisely stopped his action.

"There's no need to work hard for a job, right?" Varnell smiled, and then walked over without even looking at the white policeman who was punched to the ground.

He was very measured with his attacks. If he punched him, the policeman would be unconscious for at least ten minutes.

"You, do you know what you are doing?" the fat policeman said tremblingly.

"I know, attack the police and seize the police gun." Vanel grinned, then walked over, dropped the guy's gun, and punched him hard in the face: "Try it from Su X.

The iron fist of justice, you capitalist bastards."

Seeing the obese policeman falling down without even a groan, Vanel curled his lips and said, "Eat less sweets from now on, it's not good for your health."

He leisurely got into the car, started the police car, and then drove the police car slowly away.

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, and with gusts of cold wind blowing in from the lowered car window, Varnell casually picked up the car radio in the police car.

"Alert... OFFI, address XXX Street... carrying firearms..."

He repeated this twice, completely ignoring the operator on the other side of the radio who called out in shock, and then smashed the car radio with a punch!

After flipping through the car stereo for a long time and switching between several pieces of music, Varnell couldn't help but curse: "It sucks!"

·

A few minutes later, Varnell felt his phone in his pocket vibrate several times. He took it out and looked at it. It was a text message.

The content of the text message only contains a phone number. Read it once and remember it.

Varnell laughed, threw his cell phone out of the car window, smashed it to pieces, and then drove the police car speeding away.

Two minutes later, a siren howled in the distance.

Varnell parked the car on the side of the road with a smile, got off the car and walked to a phone booth on the side of the road.

He took the coins out of his pocket, stuffed them in, and dialed the number.

Dudu...dudu...dudu...
To be continued...