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Text Chapter Twelve Death

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    "You know Judy?"

    "Very familiar, all my bars have her shares."

    "Do you know Matthew?"

    "I've known him for less than a week. You want to ask me, what is Matthew's identity? Hehe, I can't say that." Griffin shook the empty bottle and said, "Okay  , I have already answered the two questions, you should tell me your choice."

    Ibrahimovic shook his head with a smile.

    Griffin had an expression he had known for a long time.

    Suddenly, Tina's voice sounded behind her.

    "What are you doing!"

    Ibrahimovic looked back subconsciously, and saw Tina sitting in her seat, writhing uneasily, and a man in a well-dressed suit was squeezing towards her.

    "Your conditions are very good. It's a pity to be polite. Our company has some magazine photos to take recently. You can try it. If the results are good, I can make the decision and let the company sign you."

    "She is still young, so she doesn't understand these things. Director, you drink too much, I will help you." A tall girl supported the director with one hand, and waved to Tina with the other hand behind her, beckoning her to go.  Do your own place.

    Snapped!

    The director's face suddenly became ferocious, "You bastard, what are you, you dare to take care of my affairs."

    The tall girl was so dazed by the slap that she fell to the ground, not knowing what to do.

    Seeing her companion being beaten, Tina was briefly absent-minded, and saw the manager reaching out to grab her. She clenched her fists and was considering whether to give the director a hard time, but the summer job she finally interviewed for might  It's going to be a mess.

    Boom!

    An empty beer bottle hit the coffee table with a loud noise, causing everyone around to stop their movements in shock.

    The director frowned and shouted: "Fk, which bastard did it, dare to smash my desk."

    "I'm sorry, my aim is not very good, I accidentally hit it on the coffee table. Actually, I wanted to hit you." Ibrahimovic waved his hand as he walked towards the manager.

    "What are you, you dare to hit me!" When the director heard this, he became furious, picked up the bottle on the table, and threw it at Ibrahimovic.

    A black shadow stood in front of Ibrahimovic, the champagne bottle exploded on the arm of the Black Iron Tower, and the bottle dregs and wine sprayed everywhere.

    Ibrahimovic wiped the wine off his face, feeling a little pain, and looked down to see blood and bottle residue on his hands.

    "Hehe. You're finished." Ibrahimovic calmly shook off the bottle dregs in his palm.

    There was a lot of commotion on Ibrahimovic's side, which attracted many guests to watch. Several security guards pushed away the crowd and came to the booth on the director's side.

    ? When the bodyguard walking in front saw the blood on Ibrahimovic's face, his expression changed, but the manager urged him to pay more attention to Ibrahimovic's movement, and make sure nothing went wrong.

    This accident happened, and everyone was injured.

    He glanced sternly at the person opposite Ibrahimovic, an old customer of the bar, who seemed to be the director of some cultural company.

    "So there is a helper! Kid, you'd better not go out of the gate today." Seeing the two-meter-high height of the Black Iron Tower, the director felt that he would suffer a loss if he worked hard, so he said some harsh words, and prepared to go out first.  Get someone to do it again.

    Ibra stayed in the black iron tower that was about to move, and looked coldly at the director who came out of the booth.

    Seeing that Ibrahimovic and Big Hei didn't take any further action, the director thought they were afraid.  "What the hell, I really thought that there was a bodyguard who was someone special. Let me tell you, I've seen a lot of sb rich second generations like you. Just wait and see!"

    The director straightened his clothes, raised his chin proudly, turned around smartly, pushed aside the security guards, and walked out with brisk steps. While walking, he even took out his mobile phone to look for the number.

    "Fk!" A figure suddenly rushed out of the crowd, and a wine bottle smashed on the director's head with a heavy whistling sound.

    With a bang, the director fell down in response. He screamed, covered his wet head, and looked back fiercely.

    I saw that the familiar bar manager rolled up his sleeves and panted heavily, looking as if he was going to eat him alive.

    "Fk! As long as you can! Just pretend to me!" The bar manager slapped the director violently, and then yelled at the security guards watching the theater next to him: "Hit me! Are you all stupid!"

    Six or seven security guards surrounded the director and beat and kicked him. The director screamed and wailed on the ground.

    When the guests at the bar saw this kind of fiery gang fight, they behaved differently, most of them were excited, and some left quietly.

    The bar manager looked back with difficulty, looking at the, cigarettes, a lighter, and a motorcycle key.

    "Where's the phone?" Ibrahimovic felt that he had encountered too many problems today, and he scratched his head irritably.

    After walking around the corpse, he picked up the motorcycle key and pressed it while walking. After walking about tens of meters, there was a sound of beeping in the distance.

    Ibrahimovic shuddered and looked towards the place where the sound came from, just in time to see a yellow light flashing there.

    In a dead end more than fifty meters away from the body, Ibrahimovic found Sim's motorcycle.

    The man took out a strong flashlight from his arms and illuminated the place where the motorcycle was as bright as day.  He secretly looked at Ibrahimovic.

    This kid really looks like his dad.

    Under the base of the motorcycle, Ibrahimovic found two mobile phones and a paper bag of money, estimated to be 200,000.

    beep beep beep beep beep beep

    There was a siren sound in the distance, but Ibrahimovic was wondering where Griffin had escaped?

    The moment Ibrahimovic saw the deadly wound on the corpse, he ruled out Griffin's suspicion.

    ?Because cutting the throat is a technical job, no matter whether it is cut from the front or from the back, it takes years of training to do it.

    In addition, it's not that Ibrahimovic looks down on Griffin. Just thinking about killing people at close range can scare him half to death.

    How credible is what this man said?  According to the principle that the person who finds the body first is likely to be the murderer, he is very suspicious!

    Of the three people in that surveillance video, Sim is dead, Matthew is missing, and there is only one traceable Griffin left. Could it beAlthough I hate you, you must not die.
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