blackstone code

Chapter 920 The Guardian of the City

"We don't have much time to wait for you to slowly settle the shares in your uncle's hands, do you understand what I mean?"

"The longer you delay, the more excited those people will be. The commander of the blue army has already called me and asked if I need his help."

"If you can't do it well, tell me now, and I will let your younger brother take over these things."

"If you're doing well, show me."

"How many days will it take for me to get the good news?"

There is no trace of family affection in the voice of Sanchez's general father, and every word reveals cold orders and discipline.

For this great warlord, a child is just a more useful prop, more trustworthy than a stranger, but he can only trust a little.

As long as he still holds the monstrous power and arms in his hands, he can give birth to countless children as much as he wants.

Some of his children still exist in places unknown to people, which is a last resort.

Not to mention that by his side, there are some women who are giving birth to new lives.

He had died a lot of children in these years, and he still felt a little painful at first, but he got used to it after he died a lot.

So he doesn't speak to his children like a "kind father", he is just a "general".

Sanchez clenched his fists, "No more than three days, I will let my uncle know what a stupid decision he made."

"Very well, I'll wait for your good news, don't make me wait too long."

After hanging up the phone, Sanchez did not leave, but looked at the phone quietly.

Many of his younger brothers died, and now there are only two left, but soon, he will have some new younger brothers.

Most of Mariro's warlords are "family system", the general is the head of the family, and then they will arrange a lot of work for their brothers, sisters, sons and daughters.

There are basically no "comrades" or "brothers" who can really reach the same height as the warlord himself.

If these people didn't accidentally die in the process of starting a business, they would encounter various accidents later.

Power is too alluring.

Sanchez also longs for power. He will not allow his younger brother to pass him by and take away everything that should belong to him from him.

He turned around and returned to the interrogation room. After a night's rest, Mr. President's spirit improved slightly.

However, due to keeping the same posture for a long time, he has no feeling in his buttocks, and at the same time, his hands and arms are obviously bruised.

This is a phenomenon caused by blood circulation disorder. If it is not dealt with in time, his hands will be necrotic by tomorrow at most, and blood clots will form, threatening his life.

But he didn't know these things, and neither did Sanchez, they didn't study medicine.

Sanchez dragged a folding chair from the outside and walked in. He sat opposite the president, with his hands and arms pressed on his thighs, and his body was low and leaning forward to look at the president.

"The general said he wanted my brother to come over and take over my job. He was disappointed in me that I couldn't get you to sign."

He spoke out his thoughts as if to confide in his heart.

He lit a cigarette for himself, it was the brand of Every Hour, he took a puff, pinched it in his hand, and continued, "You know, the general is a very strict person."

"He will praise me if I do well, and punish me if I don't do well. I'm not good enough. Maybe he won't hang me up and beat me like ordinary soldiers, but he will definitely question my ability."

"People like us can be greedy, despicable, and a villain, but we must never be without ability."

"People will die..."

Mr. President kept silent. He woke up, but he didn't want to talk. On the one hand, he was too hungry and had no strength, and on the other hand, he was too lazy to speak.

Sanchez got up and walked to the door, he took a phone from his subordinate, and he took the phone into the room.

Walking to the table, he pushed it hard, and there was a loud crash, and all kinds of torture instruments with flesh and blood on the table were overturned on the ground.

He put the phone on it and pressed the put button.

Immediately after the call came the voice of a young girl, who was the eldest daughter of Mr. President.

This was the girl he gave birth to after he married his first wife, but the poor woman died of an attack not long after giving birth to the girl.

He adored his daughter, the treasure he had left him from his first wife.

In the external microphone, the lovely daughter's voice was full of fear. She cried and illogically called Mr. President's name and "papa", begging for someone to hear her prayers and save her.

Sanchez moved the chair to the opposite of Mr. President, and he sat down. There was almost no distance between the two of them, almost head to head.

"My dear uncle, would you like to sign?"

He stared at Mr. President, and Mr. President sneered with little effort, but said nothing.

He knew what Sanchez was going to do, and he was sad, but he couldn't help it.

At this point, if he signs, not only will he die, but everyone related to him will die!
This is the style of the country of Maliluo, from the almost extinct fights between the Maliluo people and the Maliluo people, and now they are so cruel to their own people.

The whole country is filled with tyranny.

He signed it and everyone died.

If he doesn't sign, at least he won't die.

He knows how to choose, although the choice is painful.

Sanchez's eyelids twitched, and he turned slightly towards the phone, "This one won't work, next one."

Immediately afterwards, the girl let out a piercing scream, followed by seven or eight gunshots, and the girl's voice stopped abruptly.

Then, a young male voice came, this is the second son of Mr. President.

"When we are fighting the enemy on the front line, you enjoy the peace we bought with our lives and blood in the Commonwealth."

"We don't blame you because you have your job to do."

"But look, now you not only make a mess of your work, but also try to occupy this life that doesn't belong to you, don't you know how to repent?"

Mr. President trembled slightly, he clenched his teeth and said nothing.

"It seems that your son can't shake you!" He tilted his head, "Next."

A series of gunshots and footsteps sounded again.

His son, daughter, his mistress, illegitimate son, a dozen people all returned to the embrace of God in a very short time.

Sanchez's scalp was suddenly very itchy, and he scratched vigorously, "It seems that you have made the final decision."

At this time, Mr. President suddenly spoke.

"Do you know, in fact, at the earliest time, when my brother asked me to come to the Federation to take charge of the business here, I knew he was going to kick me out."

"He sent people to assassinate all our original partners, and now he doesn't even plan to let me go..."

"Sanchez, you don't know, I carried you out of the delivery room when you were born, and your father doesn't care about you at all."

"Now he can think about getting rid of me, and he will get rid of you in the future. You are just a tool for him."

"Also, you did one thing wrong..."

Sanchez frowned. He knew why his father's former subordinates were useless. It was impossible for so many people to suddenly encounter accidents. Someone must have done it.

The reason for the general's action is also very good. These people, regardless of their superiority or inferiority, wanted to establish their own power, so accidents happened to them decently.

But Mr. President said that the general will kill everyone...he doesn't believe it.

Of course, this does not prevent him from continuing to chat with Mr. President, maybe when Mr. President's thoughts will become clear, "What did I do wrong?", he asked casually.

Mr. President raised his head and looked at him. He spoke slowly but clearly, "This is the Federation, not Marillo. Putting your tricks here is a crime!"

A few minutes ago, the operator of the Bupain Police Station hung up the phone impatiently.

Hell, isn't it a joke that a poor man living in the suburbs suspects that his house has been invaded and wants the police to send someone to look at it?
Just look at it like this, nothing happened, and the cost of going to the police is about tens of dollars.

This money is not borne by the caller, but by the police station. If every caller's call is taken seriously, the police station may go bankrupt soon.

She comforted the person who called the police, telling him that he could go back and have a look, and if he really found someone intruding, he would seek help.

The phone that had just hung up rang again, and the operator made a gesture of exploding towards the colleagues around him. He picked up the phone, and his expression suddenly became serious.

The pencil that kept turning in her hand also started to write and draw in the notebook. Later, after she hung up the phone, she picked it up again, selected a branch on the phone and pressed it.

"Someone reported... the community heard gunshots, go and have a look, it's best to wear bulletproof vests and bring heavy weapons!"

The community she was talking about was a high-end villa community.

The last thing Bu Pain lacks is such a community.

As for why her attitude has undergone some changes?
Oh, that's definitely not discrimination against the poor. It's just that the gunshots were mentioned in the call to the police. This is obviously a more dangerous case and must be taken seriously.

After the sub-bureau received the alarm call, it immediately dispatched two patrol cars to check, and the criminal police were also ready to dispatch at any time.

More than ten minutes later, two police cars drove into the community slowly, and the community was very quiet.

Each villa is separated by a long distance, and there are various vegetation privacy walls.

In order not to disturb other residents, the two police cars did not sound their sirens.

"It's too quiet, I think it may be a false alarm..." The policeman sitting in the first car looked very relaxed.

If something went wrong, the security department of the community service company would have been dispatched long ago. How could they wait until they called the police?

They came to the outside of the house where the alarm was called. In the quiet house, let alone gunshots, there were no human voices.

Just as the police were about to ring the doorbell, two men in black gloves came out of the door.

The two sides looked at each other for a moment, and the two men in black drew their guns and shot!
(End of this chapter)