Invincible Wheel of Fortune

Chapter 139 140. Another Secret Meeting
When Aaron first met the "childhood idol" Punisher.

Also Hell's Kitchen.

Same abandoned building.

Just not the same building.

The location has also been changed to the lobby on the first floor.

It's also a group of people getting together.

There is also another group of people scattered around, but the number is much larger, there are five or sixty people, and there is no concealment, and they are not affiliated with each other. They are all a group of more than a dozen people, and they are clearly separated.

A white-haired, white-haired, white-haired Caucasian old man wearing glasses. His face is old, but he is well-maintained. He is quite rich and energetic. He is dressed in a handmade Italian-style cashmere suit. The details are all taken care of meticulously, and one can tell at a glance that this is a person who pays great attention to appearance.

Two lean, middle-aged Eastern European white men of medium build were fighting together, with light brown hair, high browbones, high nose bridge, and light gray irises. One of them had a deep scar on his face.

Looking at the facial features and outlines of the two, there are quite similarities. There should be a deep blood relationship. They are not brothers, but also cousins. They are also dressed similarly. The shirt jacket is open at the neckline, and they are quite unkempt. Arrogant, a little bit of the ferocity of a fighting nation who dares to smash the sky and the air after drinking a bottle of vodka.

Slightly further away than the three of them, there stood a middle-aged Asian man, also a lean figure, about 1.7 meters, with a shoehorn face, a flat nose, narrow narrow eyes, and a shiny big face. With the back of his head, he doesn't look like a good person at first glance. He is also wearing a suit and leather shoes. A golden emblem the size of a button is pinned to the left collar of the suit.

"Why haven't you come yet? There are only 4 minutes and 30 seconds left before the agreed time." The white-haired old man raised his wrist and looked at the Rolex gold watch. His tone was a little impatient, and his face was slightly dissatisfied.

"You're too fussy, Leland, be patient."

The one who spoke was one of the Eastern European white men who got together and looked like two brothers, with a tongue-tattling accent after they got used to speaking Russian.

The person who originally spoke also had a lot of impatience on his expression, but the other person was relatively calm and said a few words to him from time to time, which prevented him from bursting out.

But when this guy saw that the white old man was picky, he didn't care, and instead said cheap things about others.

Leland, whom the middle-aged white population refers to, rolled his eyes angrily and turned back, and said disdainfully: "Don't do this, Vladimir, punctuality is the most basic courtesy and education, and it's human Rules, the young people nowadays are really out of shape, do you demand the same from your little brother?"

The Vladimir in Leland's mouth, when he heard this, his eyeballs immediately widened, as if he wanted to protrude out of the frame, his eyes seemed to flash fiercely, as if he had been ignited by a firecracker. He was about to throw himself in front of the old white man, but the one next to him hurriedly stopped him.

Leland's expression immediately dodged a little. It seemed that he was a talker, and he didn't have the confidence to be stubborn.

The middle-aged Asian man seemed to be out of his mind, with no disgust, irritability, disgust or disdain on his face. He didn't even look like he was watching a good show. He poked there expressionlessly at the cosplay pole, completely unresponsive.

Just when the atmosphere was so embarrassing and a good show was about to be staged, an old female voice suddenly came: "Well said, there are no rules, and there is no way around. Fortunately, the old man is not late."

Several people were taken aback, followed by the reputation, a thin figure came out from the shadows, it was a skinny old Asian woman, with wrinkles on her face, she looked much older than Leyland But his eyes seemed to be bright and flashed in and out, and he was leaning on a walking stick, but it was only used to show off, and his legs and feet were very agile.

However, the few people had only one reaction to the old lady's aura and forceful words, and that was to be confused.

Because the old lady speaks in Cantonese.

It's just that Vladimir and the other two were purely confused, but the middle-aged Asian man seemed to have come to his senses. Strangely, he even nodded at the old lady vaguely, as if to pay tribute.

Only Leland was a little disdainful in his confusion.

Old man Leland had the fastest mouth, as if he had no brains at all. He opened his mouth and said to the middle-aged Asian man, "What is this talking about? Chinese? Hey, Xin (Nobu), do you understand?" ?”

How can I describe that look and tone? If someone who has heard cross talk is here, it will be like a comparison, that is, "Hey, tell me, tell me, tell me quickly, how to get to the court?" Probably this The meaning of appearance.

It is a bit old-fashioned traditional white people, the kind of racial discrimination that came from the old days, and the deep-rooted "except for white people are inferior".

The middle-aged Asian man called "Xin" who had been playing the role of the telephone pole finally reacted again and gave Leland a cold look.

"You call him Nobu, didn't you know he was from the foot basin?"

The one who spoke was the calmer person next to Vladimir, with a look of "the pig teammate can't move, I'm really tired".

Leland stretched out two index fingers to gesture the distance, and explained: "Isn't that quite close? I thought... that's fine, fine, let's not talk, let's not talk."

Seeing the "letter" frowning, staring at him and narrowing his eyes into two slits, Leland shut up very "knowing the times".

This old man typically only planted A tree and C tree in his heart. The middle one has long been cut down and used for roasting chicken wings. It has not been beaten to death until now. There must be something that has not shown yet. Its unique characteristics are very much needed by others.

The old lady saw that some people couldn't understand, but she didn't have the slightest intention to explain. She just stood there with a cane and watched the "performance" of everyone with a smile, very calm.

At this time, a clear male voice came from behind Mrs. Gao: "Mrs. Gao said that she very much agrees with Mr. Owsley's statement, and said that she is fortunate that she is not late."

The person who spoke walked half a body behind Mrs. Gao. He was a tall, stiff, middle-aged white man with black hair and a well-groomed suit and leather shoes. His appearance and voice are also indifferent and steady, not like Maozi brothers, Asian squint-eyed, white old gunners who don't look like good people, but rather like a shrewd and capable bank business manager.

It can be said that it doesn't match the style of painting here.

This style, this style, are all translators, and they can compare to the traitorous fat translator who eats watermelon and doesn't give money.

"Wesley, where's that one, is he here?" Leland seemed to know the person who translated Mrs. Gao, and his tone was casual, with a hint of impatience.

This old guy, it doesn't matter if he doesn't open his mouth, but when he opens his mouth, he smells like an old gun and scum. With his age, he's really out of tune, and he's blinded by his outfit for nothing.

Vladimir also seemed to look down on this person, and the one next to him who seemed to be his brother was similar, but the "letter" was quite polite, and there was a hint of a smile on his expressionless face, and he nodded at this person. nodded.

(End of this chapter)