my beauty world

The last four people were all shot down by Ronan before they could reach the car.

Check the rooms on the first floor next to each other. Similar to the second floor, there are young girls lying in some rooms, and some of them may be under 16 years old.

The girls appeared to have just been injected, and most of them were unconscious.

Ronan has seen too many drug addicts, and it is not difficult to make a judgment. At their level, the brain nerves have been irreversibly damaged. It is not an exaggeration to say that this life is ruined.

Drugs are the devil in the world!

Back on the second floor, Ronan first moved the two confused girls to other rooms, and then tied the remaining three people into different rooms. After a brief inquiry, he confirmed that the long-haired man was Marco.

In addition, I got a useful piece of news from the flat-headed man, Mako is the only son of Albanian gang leader Murad!

When the two could squeeze nothing out of their mouths, Ronan kindly sent them to see God.

Then, come back and sit across from Marko, holding the dagger.

Ma Ke opened his mouth in pain and shouted: "Stop! Stop! Please, stop!"

Ronan stopped twisting the dagger, reached into his pocket, and pressed the record button of the tape recorder.

Ma Ke took a breath and said quickly: "What do you want? I'll give it to you! There are a lot of girls here! There's a lot of goods! There's money in the safe at the back! Give it all! Please let me go!"

Ronan asked: "I heard that you have cooperation with the Obia Group?"

Ma Ke's expression changed: "No, we are gangsters, drug dealers, human beings..."

Ronan grabbed the dagger and twisted it, and Marco howled again.

"No! Really not!" Veins protruded from his forehead: "The French look down on us!"

Seeing the electric coffee pot behind, Ronan immediately turned on the switch and looked at the electronic watch: "We have a whole night."

Marko turned to say: "If you kill me, the entire Albanian gang will seek revenge from you!"

Ronan waited for the hot coffee to boil.

"I don't know who you are, I don't know what you want. If you let me go now, I promise that the Albanian gang will not look for you, nor will they track you down!" Possibility of coming down: "You kill me, all the Albanians in Europe will look for you, they will find you, and kill you! Kill your whole family! Kill all your friends!"

Ronan was unmoved, the coffee pot boiled quickly, he picked up the coffee pot and poured it directly on the table.

"Yes! Yes!" Marko shouted loudly: "We have cooperation with Obia!"

Ronan asked, "Where are the people transported from Billena Island hiding?"

The shock on Marco's face couldn't be hidden, how did this person know about Billena Island?

Ronan poured the coffee down again: "Where is the latest girl from Billena Island hidden?"

"Ah..." Ma Ke couldn't bear the pain: "93 provinces! In 93 provinces! We received the goods from Billena Island at the airport and sent them to the nearest storage area in 93 provinces. I came to the city a month ago I am in charge of the district, and I have no contact with the affairs there, and I don’t know where the people who have been transported recently are hiding, but they are usually hidden in the Javier cargo terminal in the 93 province.”

He saw that Ronan's coffee pot was about to fall down again: "My father is responsible for these businesses, I don't know much, really!"

Ronan memorized the name Javier Freight Station: "Who is Master Grenouille?"

"The girls who are brought in are all handed over to him." Ma Ke is more straightforward this time: "In the past, when people were transported from Billena Island, he would send people to the cargo station to recuperate the girls first, and then let them People come to inspect the goods."

Ronan asked again, "Where does he live?"

Marko shook his head: "I don't know! I really don't know! Every time his people come over, they only come into contact with my father. I think the name Grenoye may be fake, maybe it's just a code name! I guess, he should It's a master figure in the fashion industry! I can't tell! I haven't been in contact with them!"

Ronan continued to cross-examine, asking about the situation of Javier's cargo terminal, the cooperation between the Obia Group and the Albanian Gang, and so on.

Until the stock in Marco's head is drained.

The business between the Albanian gang and the Obia Group was done by Marko's father, Murad, and his cronies. Even except for Murad and the gang's consultants, no one else knew the details.

Marko knew a little because he was Murad's son, and Murad planned to retire in a few years and put this part of the business in his hands.

Ronan turned off the tape recorder, pulled out the dagger, wiped the blood on Marco's clothes, and inserted it back into the sheath.

Ma Ke endured the pain and did not dare to make a sound,

He could tell that this man was cruel and ruthless, and he was not afraid of the Albanian gang at all.

Ronan opened the safe, and there were tens of thousands of euros in small denomination cash, stuffed into the badge space together with the tape recorder, and other things were of little value.

Find a cell phone and put it in your pocket.

Then, looking at Marco: "I will give you one last chance. Behind you, there are senior officials from which department in France?"

"I don't know! I really don't know." Ma Ke burst into tears and snotted his nose: "My father is taking care of these relationships, please believe me, I really don't know..."

"I believe you."

Ronan nodded, tied Marco's hands behind his back, and escorted him out.

Turn on the spirit vision and harvest the soul fragments of these gangsters, all soul fragments +1!

Information flashed through my mind.

Fluency in Albanian: This gangster speaks only Albanian.

Throwing away the gun, came to the first floor, a girl who was a little more awake heard the gunshots, and struggled to the door to check the situation.

Ronan entered the French police number, handed the phone to her, and said, "Call the police, understand?"

The girl nodded.

Ronan stopped talking and walked towards the gate.

Outside the door, Sommer just woke up, got out of the car staggeringly, went to the red door and knocked on the door: "Open the door! Open the door! Follow me to kill that bastard!"

The door opened from the inside, revealing a familiar face.

Sommer was stunned: "Why... why is it you again?"

Ronan grabbed Sommer by the collar, pulled him through the door, and broke his neck.

Tie Ma Ke up and stuff it in the trunk, get into the SUV, and drive back the same way.

Charles de Gaulle Airport is in the 93rd province, and Javier Cargo Terminal is not far from Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Coming by taxi, Ronan had already noted down the way.

One street away, the siren sounded on Paradise Street, and there seemed to be a lot of police cars dispatched.

French police are much faster than Mexican police.

Ronan speeded up the car while keeping an eye on the rear, temporarily without a tail.

…………

In the [-]th arrondissement, in a private club near the Seine River.

The deputy director of the Security Bureau, Jean-Claude, walked through the corridor with a serious expression, and walked towards the innermost reception room.

Before reaching the door, the door of the reception room opened, and Luc Oubia greeted him and shook hands with him.

The two of them entered the reception room without any greetings, and Karl Otto, Grandma Chongxiang's artistic and technical director, nodded.

Karl Otto's long gray hair was tied into a ponytail at the back of his head, and a pair of all-black sunglasses were placed on the bridge of his nose. His whole body was full of artistic atmosphere.

The door was closed, and Luc Obia said directly: "An accident happened on Billena Island. An employee who escaped just called. The factory was blown up."

Karl Otto asked: "Who did it?"

Jean-Claude frowned: "I remind you again and again, be careful!"

Luc Oubia said: "This is an accident! According to the surviving workers in the factory, a man and a woman did it. Their identities and purposes are temporarily unknown."

Jean-Claude out of professional sensitivity: "You guys stop recently, this is unusual."

"It'll be fine." Luc Obia said, "We've been doing this business for several years, but which time was it not a surprise?"

Karl Otto agreed: "High-end customers have given us very good feedback on our skin care products and perfumes, and they have repeatedly urged for the goods. Our new factory has just started production. How much loss will it be if we stop? We want to stop, how to explain to shareholders? Don't forget Yes, most of the luxury goods companies in France have invested! If we don’t pay them back, we are their enemies!”

This high-end brand has gathered many powerful companies from the two major business alliances of French cosmetics and luxury goods.

They invested a lot of money.

There is no way out!

Jean-Claude is still worried: "Paris will hold an environmental protection summit soon, and many politicians will come. Keep a low profile and keep the raw materials well!"

Luc Oubia looked at Karl Otto, who said with a smile: "Don't worry, I have dealt with the new batch of girls properly, master follow my advice, this batch of unrefined perfume, I will give it to you tomorrow night Going to the villa in the [-]th district for entertainment, William Crave has been promoted and will soon return to Washington to take up an important position, I plan to invite him, as well as several other old friends who have worked with us, to hold a private party."

There is no separation between politics and business.

Jean-Claude reminded: "Luc, warn that old Albanian dog you raised, be more peaceful recently."

Suddenly, his phone rang, he picked it up and listened for a while, and said, "A stronghold of the Albanian gang has been bloodbathed!"

Chapter 55

Under the night, London ushered in the first snow in 2004. The heavy snow covered Kingsman Manor in the suburbs with a thick white carpet. A black car made long ruts on the carpet and drove into the manor through the snow. Among them, they stopped in front of the main entrance of the red brick steeple house.

Ilsa got out of the car, her long hair was neatly combed behind her head and tied into a ponytail, revealing a stern and delicate face. With her left hand, she picked up the navy blue long windbreaker and put it in the pocket of black trousers. She stepped on the steps with brown leather boots and entered the big house main hall.

In the fireplace, the flames are burning, and the warmth is overwhelming.

In the hall, there is a huge round table, and thirteen wooden chairs are placed beside the round table.

On one of the chairs sat an old man wearing glasses.

"You're here." The old man put down the documents in his hand and took off his glasses: "Sit down."

Ilsa was not qualified to sit on the chair by the round table, so she came to the bench behind and nodded in greeting: "Arthur."

The old man named Arthur poured himself a glass of wine and said, "I have read the evidence and report you sent, and you have done a very good job. I will inform you and officially start your knight trial."

Ilsa's stern face showed a little more expression: "Yes!"

Arthur picked up the wine glass and took a sip: "The Obia Group has a very special idea to manufacture cosmetics in this way."

Ilsa is English: "Because they're French."

"Yes, that's right! They are French!" Arthur fell into a habitual mood: "You can surrender when the war starts, and then others will help them win the war..."

He stopped in time: "When people are old, they always like to recall the past."

Ilsa fully understood Arthur's emotions, and after a short pause, she asked, "Should we initiate a hunt or investigation against the Obia Group?"

Arthur shook his head: "No! No need! There is enough evidence for this matter, and you don't need to do any more investigation."

Ilsa remembered the oven she had seen: "Many people died, and the French used girls as raw materials to make perfume..."

Arthur said seriously: "Yes, this matter is very evil. The French used their heads in the wrong place. We must correct and punish them!"

There was doubt in Ilsa's eyes.

Arthur paid more attention to the candidates for knights, who were very likely to pass, and explained: "This matter is not only related to justice and evil, but also the relationship between Britain and France. Without the cover of the French government department, Obi Subgroups can’t do it.”

He took a picture of the documents that Ilsa had faxed on the plane: "These are enough to give us an absolute advantage when negotiating with the French. We can make the French make concessions in many aspects, especially negotiations involving the EU."

Ilsa saw it with her own eyes, and she was upset, so she tried to fight for it: "Your Majesty will always have an explanation."

"That's what His Majesty meant." Arthur respected the one who mentioned Buckingham Palace: "Your Majesty said that national interests come first."

Ilsa said no more.

Arthur took out a document and put it on the side close to Ilsa: "This is your trial task. A secret organization has emerged in the European continent in recent years. You should find a way to sneak in and find out their roots."

…………

Outside of Paris, in the Javier cargo terminal in the 93 department.

This is a cargo storage center near Charles de Gaulle airport.

Since the end of the 90s, immigrants from Eastern Europe have flooded into the 93 provinces, competing for territory with black uncles from former French colonies.

The black uncles are very violent and strong, but there is something missing in their heads. Due to historical reasons, almost all the people of Albania were soldiers at one time. In front of the Albanian gang who have experienced basic military training, the black uncles are vulnerable.

With the secret support of the capital group, the Albanian gang easily occupied the Havel cargo terminal and its surrounding areas.

Murad was the head of all Albanians in Paris.

The gangster, in his 50s, is a burly man with a lot of energy.

In the office building of the freight station, Murad sat on the table and looked at the shivering 14-year-old girl opposite.

He stroked his beard with one hand, and held a whip in the other. The smile at the corner of his mouth made his face look extremely ferocious, and he ordered: "You, come here!"

The girl was like a terrified quail, huddled into a ball, not daring to move.

Murad let go of the whip, and most of the whip hung down, submerged in the bucket by the table.