Chapter 507: Kick the Door

"If I said I thought he was talented, you wouldn't believe it."

A helpless wry smile appeared on Xin Chazan's dark face. He was unjustly suspected by Lin En.

"No, I believe it." To his surprise, Linn confirmed his statement. "Mr. Worden is indeed talented, especially in acting."

When Lin En said this, his eyes did not stay on Xin Chazan. This is a diplomatic ambassador, not an extraordinary person. If someone is really arranging this series of coincidences, the difficulty and level of coincidence can only be To describe it as flawless, Sherlock couldn't compare to him.

More importantly, it makes absolutely no sense from a behavioral standpoint.

Therefore, this suspicion came and went quickly. The chat between Lin En and Xin Chazan was not only a basic suspicion, but also a kind of psychological comfort.

It's like shouting into the air: Hey, I spotted you.

If this was an absurd fantasy stage play, this would probably be an important scene. Xinchazan, who became famous overnight, just a few days later, faced another huge gap in his life when the spring breeze was coming. In a dramatic scene, the sheriff and law enforcement officers came knocking on the door.

When law enforcement comes to visit, no one can refuse.

In the midst of a knock on the door, a certain person who claimed to be a celebrity artist but actually had no real rights or strong background decided to let the barbarians outside the house wait for a while. This happened to be captured by a certain law enforcement officer's extraordinary hearing. , so Linn raised his boots and used his eyes beyond human eyes to capture the kicks and the shattering of the door panels, telling the owner inside what it means to give a warm welcome when visiting the house.

Faced with the fists of the sheriffs and the muzzles of guns that Lin En was swinging while strolling in the courtyard, these artists who maintained aristocratic demeanor and intended to be mighty and unyielding obediently raised their hands.

This scene made Linn's lips twitch.

I don’t know which gentleman said it, but artists always kneel down while shaking their fists at the government.

If they could hit the government on the head, it would mean that each of them would have to be a long-armed curly baboon, but this is obviously impossible.

At this moment, Lin En looked like a bully who destroyed literature. He looked indifferent with his hands behind his back. His expressionless face had a majesty that was not consistent with his age, as if he was an executioner who controlled life and death. It's not difficult to make this kind of expression, as long as you have enough time in the neighborhood committee office and face all kinds of impolite people from all walks of life every day. They can spit in your face, but the only thing you can do is retaliate. Even when the foreign workers are making things difficult for them, you can still make this businesslike and intimidating expression.

Commonly known as, in charge of the power of life and death.

Lin En is like an eagle owl. The black coat and top hat he wears today match perfectly. In his distant and inorganic eyes, every gentleman who is still clamoring to make country bumpkins look good is very sensible. He lowered his head, because there was a gentleman who was not that sensible. Within a few seconds of greeting the young gentleman with arrogant and obscene words, he had difficulty breathing. His whole body was trembling and he fell to his knees and twitched.

Blood agitation not only speeds up blood flow, but also slows it down.

It's a comfort to use it to deal with ordinary people.

It is much easier to use than the blood curse plague, although it may leave some sequelae on the victim. Soon, Linn's swinging gun was pointed at a man whose life was like a dream, with ups and downs.

"We meet again, Mr. Worden."

As the law enforcers from the city took care of themselves, the town's police officers immediately pounced on him like wolves and tigers, pulled the chaff-like Worden up from the ground with iron arms, and treated him as if he were a criminal suspect. He was firmly sandwiched in the middle like a human being, so that one of them was a man.

"Lin, Lin Lin... Mr. Lin En? This is... this, this, this, me, me..."

Worden had no idea what was going on.

"Borrow a room on the spot." Lin En didn't kindly help him solve his doubts. Instead, he turned to the fat Sheriff and ordered him. He knew how to use the power in his hands when he was in working mode.

"yes."

The fat Sheriff, who had seen the extraordinary power of kicking a solid wooden door open with his kick, and felt the power of a shotgun kick easily hitting his head at close range, almost bit off his tongue and swallowed it, was as young as a noble man. Order, you absolutely dare not neglect it.

If it can kick open a solid and thick wooden door, it can also easily kick open a person's head, just like a smashed watermelon.

really.

Lin En's angry kick just now, he added various BUFFs to himself, and the deterrent effect was extremely good. In fact, if Worden, who was listed as a criminal suspect, had chosen to run away after Linn kicked the door, then he would have seen what a terrifying pursuit speed is.

During the duration of the blessing, if Lin En is placed on the cold weapon battlefield, he will be defeated by ten thousand enemies.

Borrowing a room was very smooth and pleasant. After seeing Lin En's iconic elf-like face, the owner of the house cried sadly and forgot about his motto of being an artist not to succumb to power, and obediently cooperated with the law enforcer's words. Iron fist, no one wants the iron fist to fall on their head.

As for the matter of slandering and accusing him afterwards, the owner of the house who wanted to show off the country bumpkin did not hesitate to throw it into the trash can.

Russell family.

These words put together are enough to make any powerful person in a non-oligarchic industry feel cold and sweaty, fearing that he would be targeted and then live a life worse than death.

A temporary requisition room, or a temporary interrogation room.

Two tall and extremely excited rural sheriffs are holding up the trembling Worden, and the bruises on his face prove what kind of close contact this unfortunate guy had with the sheriffs before the interrogation began, and what kind of dry retching, snot, tears and other costs he paid.

Lynn's attention is on the fragments on the table.

These are all carefully searched from Worden, in addition to the wallet, tobacco, keys, and a small box. The young gentleman picked up the box and opened it. There were only some ashes like the ashes left by burning paper. He carefully released his spirituality and touched the ashes.

Soon, a smile appeared on Lynn's cold expression, and he looked up at Worden, who was full of panic.

"What is this?"

"Ashtray..." It is the instinct of everyone who has done something wrong to be stubborn. Mr. Warden has calculated that it is much better than before Lin En crossed over, when he saw all kinds of people swearing and swearing with their mothers, fathers, wives and concubines that the drugs they searched from him were not his.

"Ashtray?" Lin En sneered and turned his head away as if nothing had happened.

Soon, the sound of fists and flesh coming into close contact rang out behind Lin En, and there were also the sobbing screams of someone being stuffed back.