8 Wrong 8 Wrong.

Late at night, the engine roared, the tires and the ground made a sound of polishing, and then he left the hotel with the goal - Jack Gang!

No one in the hotel was angry and angry during the whole process.

Although they were all in the room just now, they could still hear the fighting in the corridor clearly.

Although I don’t know what happened, the ten Jack Gang thugs were all solved by a refugee dressed in linen.

Angry?

Who dares this?

When Link drove away, only then did someone in the hotel dare to open the door and stretch out his head to watch the fun.

But just a glance, they all took a breath of fright.

The battle in the corridor was so exciting, with plasma, residual limbs and internal organs everywhere.

The scene is extremely tragic!

Many people were so scared that they closed the door, afraid that they would recall the scene just now and have nightmares at night.

But there is one person here, different from others.

After drawing the drawing in your hand, stuff the pencil into the pocket of the suit top.

This behavior is strange because no one has ever used a suit pocket to put a pencil for sketching.

Walk to the door and stand the fallen wooden door aside.

Then I went to the corridor and just glanced at the corpses stacked by six people in the corridor, and seemed to be completely uninterested.

The painter moved in the opposite direction, approaching Room 505.

There are two corpses on the ground.

A chest was pierced, and internal organs splashed all over the wall.

Another one is even more exaggerated, and the head and chest cavity are broken.

The painter walked through the corpse and went straight to Room 505, as if he was walking into a museum, visiting and looking around the room, and stretching out his hand to touch it from time to time.

Another sound of footsteps sounded in the corridor, and the wooden floor creaked.

In such a chaotic small hotel, there are more than just painters who are brave.

The other person tiptoed all the way through the corridor.

Through the corpse and bullet marks, the battle just now recovered in my mind.

Then……

The curious man saw the room with wide open doors, which was the room where Link had previously knocked his shoulder open.

Walking into the room, the moonlight shines on the desk, making people notice the sketch manuscript on the table at a glance.

When I picked up the drawing, the picture shows Link holding a shotgun in one hand and Glock in the other. The exaggerated and sharp style and expression techniques fully display the scene in the corridor before.

"this……"

The man holding the drawing frowned. The man stayed in the house all the time. Why could he restore the battle just now so high? It was almost a portrayal of the battle just now!

Whose painting is this?

Looking at the lower left corner of the drawing, the person holding the drawing immediately gasped.

"What! It's him..."

Before he finished speaking, a big hand suddenly appeared behind him without knowing it, sealing his mouth tightly.

"It seems you discovered it."

A lazy and magnetic sound rang out.

At this moment, the person whose mouth was covered was dilated to an unparalleled level, and the whole person was trembling violently, shaking his head wildly, as if he had seen the god of death.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm..."

The person who was covered with his mouth tried his best to say something, but he was tightly held on his mouth and couldn't say a word.

"I know what you want to say."

"You want to say that if you swallow this in your stomach, you will never say it..."

The person who was covered with his mouth nodded wildly. In just a few seconds, beads of sweat had already oozed out of his forehead, hanging densely on his forehead.

The scattered painter leaned from behind, pressed his head against the other person's ear, and whispered: "But sorry, this time it's a secret mission."

As soon as he finished speaking, his other hand made a move like lightning.

A thin object suddenly penetrated from his jaw into his head, and was completely pushed into the curious's forehead.

There was no sound, and even when he fell down, he was supported and lay down gently.

Without looking at the corpse, the painter began to organize the paintings on the table into a folder, and then dragged his luggage and left the hotel silently, just as he came silently.

If you have to say something has changed.

When he left...

In the suit pocket,

A pencil for painting is missing.
Chapter completed!