North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 53: People go to prison, animals die!

Chapter 53: People go to prison, animals die! (Please read and vote)
"Bang Bang Bang!!!"

On the second floor of the villa, there was continuous gunfire.

The two Irish brothers, each holding a Beretta M92, frantically chased after Diddy, who was crawling in front of them.

After turning a corner, the guy quickly pushed the door open and went into the study.

Connor and Murphy hurried to catch up. Now that the media has arrived, they must "execute" this Nico before those damn reporters find Puff Daddy!
"Oh!"

The study door was suddenly pushed open. After the two brothers entered, one of them jumped sideways while the other squatted down and looked around, quickly observing the surrounding environment.

But strangely, there was no living person in the room except for the corpses of a few guards.

"Shit, I clearly saw that black guy come in here."

"He must be hiding. Let's look for him."

The two men first locked the study door, and then carefully searched through the drawers and cabinets, under the desk, behind the closet, looking for any place where someone could hide.

But it didn't take long before the two men's talkative personalities could no longer be hidden.

"I just saw Jennifer Lopez's body down there. Fuck, what a shame. Such a beautiful woman died like that."

"Are you a fan of hers?"

"That's not the case. It's just that if an ugly woman died, maybe her life was a failure anyway, so it wouldn't be a big deal. But if a beautiful woman died, it would be a real tragedy."

".That makes sense."

"I also saw Sharon Stone. That bitch's head was smashed to pieces. Even Da Vinci couldn't put it back together."

"Yeah, I saw that too, but she has nice legs, and they're still as beautiful as in Basic Instinct."

"Come on, bro, she's already old and withered. By the time Nixon went to the East to establish diplomatic relations, this slut was already dead."

"Hahaha, by the way, speaking of sluts, how are you and that stripper named Lina getting along?"

"I'm going to marry her."

".Walter-Fuck?!"

Murphy turned to look at his brother in shock, "What did you just say? You're going to marry a stripper?"

"That's right." Connor nodded solemnly. "Perhaps it was God's will. The moment I saw her, I felt that this girl was exactly what I needed."

"Fuck it, if God decrees that my brother marry a prostitute, I will convert to Satanism right now!" Murphy cursed angrily.

"Hey, you can't be sacrilegious like that, man."

Connor said confidently: "I am sure that I have received God's will, just like the Virgin Mary, who just slept and felt nothing, and then she became pregnant with God's child."

"That's because God has a tiny, pathetic penis, so Maria didn't feel a thing!"

The two brothers were no longer in a hurry to find Puff Daddy, and began to debate whether God would allow his believers to marry a prostitute.

Suddenly, there was a "bang" and the dark wall behind the closet was kicked open.

"Go to hell! You two are such a nagging bastard!!"

Diddy had a ferocious look on his face, raised his gun with both hands and pulled the trigger frantically.

Bang bang bang bang—!
In a few seconds, all fifteen bullets were fired.

Diddy continued to roar, but soon his expression froze.

Up ahead, Connor and Murphy stood still.

The two men first looked down at their intact collars, then turned to look at the wall behind them that was riddled with bullet holes—no more, no less, exactly fifteen holes.

The two brothers looked at each other, shrugged, and raised their guns in unison.

"What the hell?!"

Diddy's eyes widened and he crawled towards the secret door of the cellar.

The bullets hit the iron gate with a "ding-dang-dang" sound, splashing sparks. Just as the two brothers were about to chase, the secret door suddenly opened again.

Diddy raised his hands high and backed away tremblingly.

In front of him, a man covered in blood and violence was holding a gun to his head.

"Lo Rosha?!"

The Irish brothers were shocked. Rorschach's left wrist was bloodied and pressed against the gunshot wound in his abdomen, his face was covered in purple and black bruises, and his torn clothes were soaked in blood and turned dark red.

He was hunched over, and every step he took left sticky bloody footprints on the ground.

The whole person looks like he just crawled out of hell!
"You are the one who broke into my cellar."

Diddy's lips trembled uncontrollably, and the fear in his eyes was gradually replaced by resentment.

It was this madman in front of him who ruined his carefully planned party, killed so many celebrities and dignitaries, and even a damn senator!

Now he is being targeted by Washington, and he might be shot seven times in the back and declared to have committed suicide.

"Puff Diddy?"

Rorschach suddenly sneered, "What a crap name! Can't you guys even come up with a nice stage name?"

Diddy swallowed, not knowing what to say for a moment.

The other party had obviously escaped from the siege of hundreds of his guards in the cellar and discovered his secret.

That hatred is probably even deeper than mine.

Forget it, just beg for mercy.

He knew so many private secrets of high-ranking Washington officials that even if he went to jail, he might still have a chance to negotiate.

Having made up his mind, Diddy simply put his head in his hands and knelt on the ground.

"I don't know who you are, man. So I can pretend I haven't seen you tonight. Now the media is all here. I will definitely go to court tomorrow and be thrown into a maximum security prison tonight."

Diddy looked at Rorschach and the Irish brothers standing on either side of him and forced a smile. "Here's how it goes. There's five million in cash in the safe, along with some diamond jewelry. Consider it my gift to you. Just pretend you haven't seen me tonight. I'll go to jail, and you can use the money to enjoy your life. How about that?"

After saying that, he told out the combination of the safe and stared at Rorschach nervously.

"Don't be a fool, old man. What good will it do you to kill me now? I shall have my due punishment, but it will be in prison, not in this study. Take the money and go!"

Puff Daddy kept on trying to persuade them, but the scene was dead silent and no one responded.

After an unknown amount of time, Rorschach tilted his head slightly and looked out the window.

There, more than 20 children were being interviewed by the media from all directions. They were helpless and held their companions' hands tightly, as if only in this way could they find a little courage to face life.

In the manor, the disheveled celebrities and wealthy people were still high on drugs, doing all kinds of disgusting things in public.

There were bursts of wailing coming from downstairs.

Those are the party guests buried under the rubble, and rescuers may arrive soon.

Although they experienced terror, they can still return to their Beverly Hills mansion tomorrow and live a life of luxury.

This country is fucking ridiculous.

Rorschach looked away, looking down at Diddy at his feet, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper:
"People go to jail, and animals die!"

boom--!
The flames spewing from the muzzle instantly swallowed up the astonishment and fear on Diddy's face.

Almost at the same time, gunshots were heard on the other two sides of the study!

Three bullets, three gun muzzles, formed a cruel trial scene in the silent study.

Rorschach put down the still smoking pistol. Outside, the sirens were getting closer and closer, and the flashing police lights illuminated the manor in flickering light.

"Boss, what should we do now?" asked the Irish brother.

Rorschach didn't answer. He picked up the most expensive cigar on the desk, bit off the butt, lit it by the candlelight on the corner of the table, and took a deep breath.

Seeing Rorschach's steady appearance, the two brothers looked at each other and followed his example, lighting a cigar each.

Connor even crossed his legs and leisurely blew a smoke ring.

Then--

"Hold!"

Rorschach suddenly stumbled and grabbed the two men's shoulders, his knuckles turning white. "Heal my wound first! Damn it! There are still two bullets left!"

Well, he couldn't pretend anymore.

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(End of this chapter)

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