Chapter 144 ‘Gotham City never sleeps’ (big chapter two in one)

"Wow, sir, are you just coming out of the airport?" A black taxi driver looked at Dean's ragged body and looked at the broken-out Dean.

He didn't expect that the reporters had dispersed so late and there were people coming out of it.

"Yes, I wanted to get in and watch the fun, but I almost got my pants removed by the gay police." Dean threw a cigarette to the driver: "Man, maybe I need to go to a place where I can change my clothes now."

"no problem!"

The black driver quickly took the cigarette, started the car, and drove Dean to a strange place.

Dean glanced at the other person's waist and closed his eyes to rest.

It's almost ten o'clock in the evening now.

This time.

Ordinary clothing stores have been closed long ago.

The driver took Dean and walked through the silent streets, left the airport, and walked straight. After about half an hour, he stayed in front of an old building with pink rainbow lights.

He knocked on the door glass: "Sir, I'm here."

Dean opened his eyes and looked outside first before looking at the black driver in confusion: "Here?"

"Yes." The driver lit the cigarette clamped on his ear: "You can see the night market through the alley in front of you. Now there are only people here who sell some fake brand-name clothes."

"Okay, thank you."

Dean touched the palm of his sleeve and left, and turned out a fifty-year-old knife with his hands as he turned on a magical look and put it in front of the driver: "I'm glad you didn't make any unwise moves."

The black driver's pupils shrank, took the banknotes, and smiled and said, "Thank you, generous sir, and I wish you a wonderful evening."

Dean got out of the car and disappeared into the night.

Looking at the direction he left, the driver was spitting out a puff of smoke, tilted his head, and said to the air: "The random target is something wrong, and it is recommended that the game be cancelled."

"Are you sure?"

A sweet female voice appeared in the driver's ear porch.

The driver took a sip of cigarette hard: "It's very sure, Golden Wire Cat, I suggest you change to a game subject. I almost got peeded by him just now. This guy's eyes are very scary!"

"Okay, postman, choose the next game target as soon as possible. The night is long and I want to have some fun."

Communication hangs up.

The driver looked at the cigarette butts that were about to be extinguished in his hand and grinned: "Welcome to the sin city, perverted, have fun."

He likes polite people.

Light up Mars and draw an arc in the night.

Boom ~

The car roared, far exceeding its previous speed, and it left quickly and disappeared on the street corner.

When the cigarette butts land.

The surroundings have fallen into a dead silence again.

On the other side.

Dean walked through the dark streets, took a headset from his ear and put it in his pocket, with a weird look: "Is it the game organization again?"

He only saw something was wrong with the black driver.

But this is normal.

New York is a famous city of sin. Even in the early 21st century, there are still a large number of robberies, murders, and strong incidents every day, which occur in taxis, subways and trains under the night.

Since a movie was released.

There is another nickname here: Gotham City never sleeps!

Dean is not a person who causes trouble.

Since the black driver chose to follow his heart, he would not turn into a little bat of justice and do something meaningless.

Walk through the streets and alleys.

A world different from the daytime appears before Dean.

Under the colorful iridescent lights.

Groups of people were huddled beside the geothermal pipes on the corner of the street, spewing clouds and mist, floating in the air.

The street is yellow, white and black, and women of different heights are pulling guests. As long as someone is interested, they can walk into the simple fighting room beside them and have a refreshing and enjoyable physical fight, which is cheap and can be said to be sick.

besides.

There are also small "stalls", which seem to be messy, but in fact they are placed in an orderly manner on both sides of the street, using cheap large plastic cloth to form independent areas, waiting for customers to come to the door.

Dean noticed.

Most of the abortions were like him, gathering here from the alleys on both sides of the street and leaving here, like an invisible cage, which made them subconsciously not pass directly from both ends of the street.

A middle-aged man standing by the roadside and looking left and right, saw Dean, immediately walked over quickly, stopped a meter away, and lowered his voice: "Man, there is a fresh toilet, 10-15 years old, big

Some of them are first-hand goods, should you give it a try?”

toilet?

Dean was stunned at first, then realized that this was referring to people.

He shook his head expressionlessly and took out a stack of twenty dollar notes: "Tell me where there are clothes and weapons without numbers, these are yours."

Looking at these green things.

The middle-aged man with a Southeast Asian appearance licked his lips: "It turned out to be a new customer, what you want, at stalls 76 and stalls 81.

Also, my name is Huang Laomo.

If a guest wants to try something exciting one, you can come to me.

No matter which country the toilet is, no matter what tricks you want to play, as long as the green paper is in place, I can make arrangements for you!

It's OK to deliver the goods to your door."

Dean didn't say anything, threw the banknotes accurately in his arms, took great steps, and the gentleman walked straight ahead.

In this world, under the light, the shadows will last forever.

For these dirty things.

Dean doesn't want to comment too much.

Thanks to the reminder of middle-aged Southeast Asia.

Dean noticed that outside those stalls, there were lightly fluorescent numbers.

This also prompted him to find stall No. 76 quickly.

This is a place that sells fake brand-name clothes. It looks like there are still many customers, and the business is booming in this stall.

What surprised Dean was that the stall owner and the client were both Chinese, and the low scolding he occasionally bargained for sounded like people from the coastal areas of China.

In this regard, Dean could only sigh that as long as he had money, people from his hometown would always be indispensable if he had money.

Dean followed the crowd and picked up the people. When he came out again, he had already put on a high-quality imitation brand that could not be seen at all.

The price is touching.

Only one tenth of the original price.

But in terms of quality.

Dean felt much better than his original clothes worth thousands of dollars.

No wonder the business is so good.

This place looks scary.

But Dean had been wandering for nearly half an hour and bizarrely did not see a pickpocket. Instead, there were some unobtrusive places, some dried braised chicken feet hanging.

Below the "chicken feet", there was a majestic man leaning on the darkness, holding a semi-automatic rifle without any concealment, scanning the streets where people were coming and going.

This should be the reason for the stable order of the "night market".

Stall No. 81 is not far from Stall No. 76.

Dean saw the stall at a glance.

Because outside the stall, there was an old M2 heavy machine gun, and there were two ammunition boxes filled with brass-colored bullets next to them.

On the box, a small fluorescent board attracts attention: Daddy's gun shop is a must-have quality!

There are also many guests here.

But it's different from the imagined scene.

When Dean entered, he found that the small stall was not like a vegetable market, with a large number of guns placed inside.

Each guest, in an orderly manner, said some vegetable names such as potatoes, corn kernels, etc., in front of an old man, and then paid, received a casual note from the woman next to the old man, and left from the other side.
To be continued...