My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

Early the next morning, Ethan woke up and after exercising as usual, he came to the kitchen.

Open the refrigerator and take out the steak Proctor sent last night.

Sprinkle some seasonings on top to marinate, then light the gas stove and put the pan on.

When the pan was burning with white smoke, he cut off a small piece of butter and threw it into the pan.

When the butter melts, he puts the thick steak into the pot with tongs. With a sizzling sound, the aroma wafts out of the pot. After frying for a few minutes, he puts it on the plate and starts eating.

Arriving at the police station after breakfast, Alma immediately handed him several documents.

Incident Report Form, State Supervision Form, Firearms Use Form.

Ethan scratched his head and struggled to fill in the information. Seeing that he had a headache, Siobhan kicked him with his foot.

"If you find it troublesome, you can ask Alma to help. After the matter is done, just buy her a bottle of wine to express your gratitude."

This was a good idea. Ethan decisively picked up the file and walked to the front desk.

After the matter was settled, Ethan answered the police call as bored as he could.

"Ethan, haven't you gone back yet?"

Brock returned to the police station and asked curiously when he saw Ethan.

"Go back? Where should I go?" Ethan was confused.

"Administrative leave, you go back and rest. You can't officially go to work until the District Attorney's Office's investigation results on Cole's case are clear."

"By the way, would you like the bureau to arrange some psychological counseling for you?"

When he heard about the vacation, he decisively ran away. Last night, in public, Cole shot and attempted to murder Proctor in the crowd. District Attorney Gordon was also at the scene. It is estimated that the vacation will not last long.

As for psychological counseling, I am not that fragile, so I refuse it decisively. Why would I find someone to analyze my psychology if I have nothing to do?

Ever since he traveled to this world, Ethan has been working all the time, and now he is suddenly on leave, and he doesn't know what to do.

After driving around in the police car for a few minutes, Ethan decided to go home first and change his uniform and the police car.

Otherwise, wherever I go, I feel like I'm on patrol, no different from going to work.

When I got home, I changed my clothes and put my police badge and gun on my body as usual.

Although it is easier to put the gun in the space and does not affect the movement, it feels different with the gun on the waist.

If you encounter someone who is seeking revenge, they will think twice when they see you carrying a guy.

After driving the Ford F150, he thought about it for a while and decided to buy a gun. Now he only has one gun with him, which makes him feel too insecure. The firepower at home also needs to be supplemented.

Oak Street, Old Sam's Fishing and Hunting Shop.

Ethan parked the car and pushed the door open. The copper bell above the door was struck and made a crisp sound.

"Welcome to Old Sam's Fishing and Hunting Shop."

An old man with a white beard wearing a cowboy hat stood behind the counter. When he saw Ethan coming in, he greeted him and continued to disassemble a gun.

The wall behind the white-bearded old man was covered with various rifles and shotguns, and various pistols and knives were also placed on the counter.

Ethan walked around the store and came to the counter.

"Officer, how can I help you?" The old man put down the parts in his hand and looked at Ethan with a smile.

Ethan was a little confused and looked down. During his vacation, he probably didn't wear his police badge.

The old man with the white beard stretched out his hand and pressed his cowboy hat. "This is a small town. I saw you last night. You are a good shot. Just call me Sam."

"Thank you." Ethan found a chair and sat down.

After some selection, Ethan bought a 6-inch Python revolver and an M4A1.

After filling out the relevant documents, Sam told Ethan that he could pick up the gun in the afternoon. As a law enforcement officer, purchasing a gun does not require the same long procedures as ordinary people.

Ethan left the fishing and hunting shop, still a little worried. The gun he bought was barely enough for self-defense.

But you can't wait for the Moody brothers to come to your door. That would be too passive. If you are not careful, you can easily lose your life.

Ethan decided to strike first, but in this case, he had to find a way to find a black gun. The gun he bought could only be used for self-defense and could not be used for other things. It would be troublesome if it was found out.

At this moment, a BMW roared past him, and a little girl leaned out of the sunroof, leaving a series of wanton laughter.

The little freckles on her face were clearly Tifa, the district attorney's daughter.

Ethan remembered an incident. In the play, Proctor's subordinate Hanson used the girls to prepare for a rave party by pimping people's heads to sell his own homemade meatballs.

Are they going to Hansen's small meatball workshop now? Ethan quickly drove up to follow.

In a place like that, it should be easy to find a black gun.

After driving along a remote country road for more than ten minutes, I saw the BMW in front of me turn into a fork in the road, and the smoke and dust raised by the wheels stopped.

Ethan slowed down and drove a few hundred meters forward, then found a hidden corner and parked the car.

After a while, he walked to a dilapidated house. Ethan crouched down and hid behind the grass to observe for a while. The BMW was parked in front of the house, and there were several cars parked next to it.

There was faint sound of music coming from inside the house. This should be Hansen's small workshop.

There was no sentry in sight. Just as Ethan was about to touch it, another car drove over and he quickly stopped.

A skinny white man got out of the car shaking his head. A bald man suddenly stood up from behind the pile of wood next to the door and stopped him. After a conversation, the two walked into the house.

Ethan rolled up his sleeves and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then carefully walked around to the side of the house with his gun raised.

Approaching the house, Ethan saw a window with a crack open. He bent down and walked under the window, carefully pushing the window crack open a little. The music in the house became louder.

Through the gap, I saw two people lying on the bed in the room. They were obviously too high to wake up.

Without further ado, Ethan immediately opened the window, grabbed the edge of the window with both hands, turned over and crawled into the room.

When he landed, he stepped on a slowly twisting vibrator, which startled him. Ethan kicked it aside in disgust and began to search carefully.

Among the clothes on the ground, only a few crumpled banknotes and a few sleeves were found.

Outside the door, heavy footsteps could be heard from time to time.

He looked at the two people snoring on the bed, came to the bedside table, and slowly pulled out the drawer.

Inside the drawer, pistols and magazines were arranged in a messy manner, and there were several stacks of neatly stacked Franklins next to them.

Ethan reached out and touched an M1911, put it and another magazine back into space, and also touched a box of ·45 Colt bullets.

Looking at the stacks of Franklins, he hesitated and decided to give up.

There will be opportunities in the future, but now I have to keep a low profile.

These drug dealers may not take it seriously if one of their guns is missing. Maybe their companions used it and the money is missing, so there will definitely be trouble.

Having obtained what he wanted, Ethan stopped rummaging and jumped out of the house through the window.