"Shashasha..."

Mihua Harbor in the evening was shrouded in a fairly common and common blowing wind and torrential rain.

In front of the warehouses and houses at the port, bright or dim, pale or orange lights shine through, decorating the seemingly peaceful and peaceful Mihua Harbor in the rain.

"Ta-ta-ta-ta..."

A man wearing a blue-gray coat and a black sweater ran quickly past the rows of houses, walked through a dark and depressing alley, and stopped in front of a door bathed in warm, bright yellow light.

The brown-haired man raised his head, and a sideways sign hanging on the left side of the door caught his eye.

The thick iron signboard is engraved with the image of a spider. The spider's abdomen has a red funnel-shaped concavity, and its eight spider legs are shining coldly under the wash of the rain.

Under the spider pattern, the English word [Black Widow] is engraved, which means "Black Widow".

The cold rain kept falling, and the brown-haired man without an umbrella quickly averted his eyes, pushed open the door of the Black Widow Bar, and walked in.

The inside and outside of the bar seem to be two different worlds. The stylish classical decoration, slightly dim light and soft music create a warm atmosphere.

Anyone who comes to this bar through wind and rain will naturally associate it with beautiful words such as "home" and "harbour" in their mind.

"Oh, it's raining so heavily..."

The brown-haired man brushed the rain off his body with his hands, walked to the bar, and complained: "The weather forecast is not accurate at all."

The bar was not big, so he walked to the bar in a few steps and said to the bartender who was looking at him with a frown:

"I want to be like him."

There was only one customer sitting in front of the bar: he was tall, with an unusually broad jaw, wearing a black hat, sunglasses, and a black suit, like a fat black crow.

There was a small wine glass placed in front of this guest. The glass contained clear silver-white wine, which seemed to be just enough for one sip.

But he didn't seem to be in the mood to drink at all. He tapped the index finger of his right hand on the bar table at the brown-haired man sitting on his left.

The brown-haired man sat up straight, took out a bulging envelope from the inner pocket of his coat, placed it on the spotlessly wiped table, and pushed it towards the burly man in black whose organization codename was "Vodka."

Vodka took the envelope and put it into his suit pocket without looking at it.

Behind the bar, there was a clanging sound, and the bartender began to make a cocktail for the new guest.

"Don't you need to confirm what's inside?" the brown-haired man asked with a teasing smile.

"Hmph!" Vodka sneered disdainfully, "If it's a fake, your life will be gone."

He also took out a thick envelope from the pocket on the other side of his black suit and placed it on the table in front of the brown-haired man.

"I just want to make sure." The brown-haired man picked up the yellow envelope in front of him, pulled out a thick stack of banknotes, and counted them quickly.

"As you wish." Vodka picked up the small glass in front of him and drank the liquid in it.

The bartender's bartending work has reached the final stage. The mixing bottles are flying and dancing in his hands, and the sound of "clack-clack" has a strange rhythm.

After a while, the brown-haired man finished counting the banknotes and put away the envelope full of banknotes: "OK, that's right."

The bartender also finished mixing drinks, placed the small wine glass filled with silver-white liquor on the coaster, clamped the handle between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, and gently pushed it towards the brown-haired man:

"I've kept you waiting for a long time."

"Then what is the next job?" The brown-haired man picked up the wine glass, stared at the slightly rippling liquid inside, and asked, "I have to know what the key points of the next job are, right?"

"You know what?"

The music in the bar stopped suddenly. At some point, another person sat on the left side of the brown-haired man.

This man who suddenly appeared like a ghost was wearing a black hat and a black windbreaker, with his long silver hair hanging casually on his back.

The man codenamed "Gin" in the black organization is cruel and cold-blooded. He is mainly responsible for assassinating and eliminating traitors in the organization. He is a cadre who receives direct orders from "that gentleman".

"Recently, there has been a rat sneaking around the organization and doing some shameful things." Gin's face, half covered by bangs, turned slightly to the right, and his right eye without any emotion stared at the brown-haired man, "Do you have anything to do with this?

Ever heard of it?”

The atmosphere was tense, and a big drop of cold sweat broke out on the brown-haired man's face, and he nervously replied: "No... not very clear. I haven't heard of it."

"Is that so..." Gin sighed inexplicably.

The brisk music in the bar started again.

"Then the job here is to dig out that mouse?" Feeling that the atmosphere was more relaxed, the brown-haired man asked while bringing the wine glass in his hand close to his lips.

"No." Gin's answer made him stop what he was doing, "I already have an idea of ​​who the mouse is."

"Really..." The brown-haired man narrowed his eyes and sweat dropped. In order to suppress the fear in his heart, he quickly took a sip of the cocktail in the glass.

"This wine is so delicious!" The feeling on his taste buds refreshed him. He raised his head and asked the bartender, "What kind of cocktail is it?"

The bartender didn't answer him, but kept his head down and tinkered with something.

The music style in the bar suddenly changed, from relaxed to heavy and depressing, as if someone who was enjoying a wonderful vacation suddenly found that he still had an important task that he had not completed.

And the deadline for completing this work is just one hour later.

"rum."

A deep male voice came from his left: "Made with Cointreau orange wine and a small amount of lemon juice to make the X.Y.Z. cocktail."

"After drinking this glass of wine, everything should be over." Looking at him, Gin smiled sinisterly.

The brown-haired man's pupils shrank suddenly and kept trembling.

The temperature in the bar seemed to have dropped to freezing point, and the three people sitting in front of the bar were motionless with their own thoughts.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! Only the bartender was humming softly and wiping the wine glasses, and did not care much about the hints and confrontations in the words of the three guests.

After all, it was the brown-haired man who couldn't bear the invisible pressure of being sandwiched between gin and vodka. He hurriedly put down the half-drunk cocktail, stood up in a hurry, and left a sentence:

"Then, if you find another job, please take care of me then."

He hurriedly walked to the door of the bar, ran outside the bar without looking back, and disappeared into the wind and rain, which was even fiercer than before.

…

In the bar, it is still warm and comfortable, and the music is still soft.

"Is this okay, brother? Just let him go." Vodka stood up, took the glass and sat down where the brown-haired man had been, and said, "He must be the mouse."

"Yeah." Gin once again showed a standard villain smile, "Don't worry."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Poor little guy, why don't you stay in my tavern for a little longer? In that case, maybe you can live a little longer. He still doesn't understand you guys very well."

A third voice intervened, and Gin and Vodka raised their heads in unison.

It turned out to be the bartender who had been silent just now, sipping a glass of sparkling wine, leaning on the bar with his arms supporting his upper body, looking at them with a half-smile.

Without saying a word, Gin took out a pistol from his waist and pointed it at the ignorant bartender.

This bar is a secret meeting place for the black organization, and the people who work in it are the lowest level personnel of the organization.

The low-level people who don't even have a code name for the sake have only value as tools in Gin's eyes.

A tool man's unscrupulous judgment is undoubtedly an overstep.

Transcendence means abnormality. And abnormality often points to——

Insider!

Gin’s mole radar is on!

His finger slightly pulled the trigger, and the next moment, the bullet fired from his beloved gun Beretta M92F was about to penetrate the head of the bartender in front of him.

He didn't even ask for the name, and Gin didn't want to remember the name of the person he was about to kill.

But what made him a little confused was that this weird bartender just kept a professional smile and looked at the black muzzle of the gun.

There is no trace of fear in the face of death.

"Oh, it's a gun. It's so scary." The bartender took a sip of wine and said in an exaggerated manner, "Thankfully, I even manually controlled the music playback to help you heighten the atmosphere..."

Vodka also took out his own Browning M1935. As long as the gin boss gave the order, he wouldn't mind changing the bartender in this bar.

But Gin didn't fire yet, he just stared at the leisurely bartender in front of him.

The three of them faced off for a full three minutes.

Gin's muscles tensed.

Vodka is like a formidable enemy.

The bartender looked nonchalant as he sipped the wine in his glass.

It wasn't until Vodka's arm holding the gun started to feel sore and stiff that Gin sighed and put down the gun: "Put the gun away, Vodka."

"Huh?" Vodka glanced at his elder brother in surprise. Although he was very confused, he still put away the gun obediently.

"A glass of Rattlesnake." Gin also put the gun back on his waist and said coldly to the bartender, "Can you mix it, you fake bartender?"

"Of course." The bartender smiled and began to prepare the ingredients for making the Rattlesnake cocktail, and did not forget to remind him, "By the way, you have to remember to pay me the price of the drink for that person just now."

Gin was silent.

"I'll take it as your acquiescence if you don't say anything?" the bartender said in a chatty tone, "Did that person drive here? Counting the time, it's almost time to explode."

"BOOM!"
To be continued...