The Memoirs of Cultivating Immortals

Chapter 33 The Bay
The cloud was as black as ink, making the bright moon in the sky looming. Listening carefully, the sound of the tide became louder, and there was a hint of salty smell of the ocean in the air.

"From 23:8 today to 3:[-] tomorrow morning, the weather is heavy rain, the wind direction is northerly, the wind force is six to seven, and the visibility is [-]km. The general public should pay attention to travel safety at night."

The female voice on the car radio is sweet and crisp, reminding people that the rainstorm is coming.

In the black car, the driver looked through the rearview mirror at Christina and the others, who were wearing a black opaque cloth hood and their hands were tied behind their backs with plastic anti-falling nooses, and whistled leisurely.

Here is a dilapidated dilapidated wharf. Nearly a hundred mottled and dilapidated fishing boats are lined up in a narrow bay. On the shore are old and dilapidated bungalows. , it can be inferred that there is no one living here.

It was high tide time, and the sea water glowed with a little brilliance under the deserted moonlight. The wooden railings were silent, with hemp ropes and huge rubber tires to prevent fishing boats from colliding.

The red-headed gull perched on the railing was awakened by the flashing headlights, and reluctantly flapped its wings and flew away quickly, circling and making noise in the air, as if scolding the Italian mafia for disturbing people's dreams in bird language.

Decades ago, this place used to be a very prosperous fishing boat wharf. Every day, trucks came to bring all kinds of fish caught from Gotham Bay to the market for the citizens to enjoy.

However, with the expansion of urbanization, the residents here have gradually moved away, leaving only these ships that have lost their use value to stay and wait.

The mafia convoy stopped silently by the bay, parked Mike's Lincoln Navigator by the side of the road, escorted Christina and the others down the road, and arrived at the weedy field.

The leading gangster is a young Italian man with a high and straight nose, a full forehead, and deep and emotional eyes. With the well-tailored black suit, he looks a bit like Al Pacino when he was young. His subordinates respectfully call him Mr. Patrick.

This Patrick, if he was in another place such as a nightclub, he must be an affectionate gentleman, with the melancholy buried in his brows and eyes
It can attract those young girls who are not deeply involved in the world, and let them indulge in the soft words of Italian men.

However, Christina and the others, who were forcibly pressed by the thugs on the beach at this moment, only had boundless fear in their hearts.

Patrick first asked Rachel Dawes to be removed from the car and spread it flat on the beach. After taking a few photos with his mobile phone, he asked his men to drive her away from this place, and he didn't know where to go.

Then he asked his subordinates to bring an ordinary briefcase from the car, and opened it in front of Christina and the others with a smile. The briefcase was a large pile of transparent plastic bags wrapped in white powdery objects.

You can think with your toes that these white powders will not be harmless to humans and animals, and can be made into dumpling skin flour, but more irritating, more exciting, and more deadly methamphetamine compounds.

The teenager watched with a pale face as Patrick took out an entire row of unopened sanitary syringes from under the briefcase, fetched a bottle of water, mixed the methamphetamine powder in proportion, put the cap on the bottle, and shook it like a Coca-Cola stand up.

When the mixture was completely melted, he took the syringe, carefully pierced the bottle with the needle hole, and filled the syringe with the liquid.

Patrick carefully squeezed out the remaining air in the syringe, and the hospital nurse flicked it pretendingly, and said calmly: "I will inject you with a large dose of methamphetamine mixture one by one later, and you will have a short-term excitement, Dazed, dizzy, and completely unconscious. I'll put you back in your car, park it on the shore, and when the cops find your cold bodies and the syringes strewn all over the car, they'll automatically assume it's just Ordinary teenagers die in a carnival and fail to grasp the safe dose."

The meaning of a group of bright-faced teenagers disappearing for no reason is completely different from that of a group of teenagers who overdose (cough) and die. The former can trigger a big search, while the latter can only cause a few comments in the newspaper. , and maybe social activists to come forward and start a social movement against drug (cough) drug abuse of teenagers.

But so what?Is there still less people in Gotham who die unnaturally due to various reasons every year?In this metropolis with a population of nearly ten million, people are busy running and living, and occasionally they look up from their busy work to look around. As long as the matter is not related to themselves, they can bury their heads in the sand and isolate the danger. outside.

The teenagers struggled desperately to beg for mercy, but the grinning gangsters pressed them tightly, the pale Mike struggled to stand up, and shouted at Patrick: "Don't kill me, my father is the manager of Seaford Company, I can come up with a lot of money!"

"Sifer, is that the pharmaceutical company that was recently listed on NASDAQ?" Patrick frowned and thought for a while, then said frivolously, "It sounds very tempting, but I think you may not be able to afford it." The price of life."

He is just a manager of a pharmaceutical company. Compared with the Gotham gangsters like deep-water crocodiles, he is nothing worth mentioning.

Mike watched desperately as Patrick injected a syringe of medicine into his veins. The chemicals stimulated the brain, and every cell was screaming and trembling. Soon his face was as pale as gold paper, his whole body was shivering and twitching, and his eyes were flooded. Crystal saliva dripped from the corner of Bai's mouth, and he staggered and fell to the ground, fainting, not knowing whether he was alive or dead.

Seeing this, other boys and girls cried even louder. Brand-name fashions from Versace, Hermes, Armani, Prada, and Gucci, brand-name perfumes from Chanel and Givenchy, Emmy Awards, billboard music charts, and Netflix online dramas lost its meaning,

These children who are spoiled by the relaxed and comfortable urban life saw the real side of the city for the first time in life and death, full of darkness, violence, despair and complexity.

Here, human life is the most worthless cheap commodity, a fragile waste in the eyes of the superiors, who can trample the innocent involved into powder with one step, and become a sad victim of the vortex of struggle.

This is Gotham.

The sound of sobbing sounded on the edge of the bay, echoing the noisy calls of the red-billed gulls in the sky. Patrick impatiently asked his men to cover their mouths and injected them with methamphetamine mixture one by one.

It was soon to be Christina's turn. With tears in her eyes, she watched helplessly as the sharp needle pierced the vein in her arm.

(End of this chapter)