The vast Gobi desert is dotted with huge red bare rocks that have been eroded by the wind and have a smooth surface. The arid gravel desert still has tough shrubs and some small plants growing there.
The scorching sun scorched the earth, creating a dense heat wave, and the breeze stirred up the gravel on the ground, raising smoke and dust.
Several Indian vultures with messy feathers and scars circled in the sky, and finally flapped their wings and landed on a human corpse in the rubble. They used their beaks to peck at the rotting carrion and growing insect eggs.
Behind the corpse, barbed wire surrounded several forbidding buildings, and many guard towers were built. Heavy machine guns were mounted on the guard towers, but they seemed to have not been used for a long time. They were covered with sand and dust and no one was on guard.
The warden's office in the tallest building.
The glass of the window has been broken, not by smashing it with stones, but by having holes penetrated by a strong force, which were penetrated by bullets.
There is no desk in the office, instead there is a billiard table. In addition to a dazzling array of firearms, there are also billiard cues hanging on the wall.
The room was filled with smoke, not tobacco, but some kind of moraceae plant.
Two men in prison guard uniforms were playing billiards with flying leaves. The man sitting on the window looked at the newspaper with a thoughtful look. In fact, he was playing bingo and Scrabble. This was also his greatest interest in the newspaper.
"Hmm...how do you deal with safety?"
"s,e,c,u,r..."
Johnny is still very confident in his vocabulary, but the difficulty of this game is a bit too high. In the past, he could complete it in a short time.
He was wearing a warden's uniform and was about 1.8 meters tall. He was about thirty years old. His facial contours were as sharp as a knife, his deep-set eye sockets were a bit cold, his eyes were a little amber, his hair stood up like steel needles, and his neck was thick.
His skin was tattooed with a lifelike scorpion tattoo, and the sting from its tail spread to his face. There were also obvious ring-shaped scars on his neck, as if his head had been cut off and then sewn back together.
Kneeling on the concrete floor was a fat man whose mouth was gagged with a towel, his hands were tied behind his back with a rope, and he was only wearing shorts. His face and body were covered with bruises from being beaten, and there were bloodstains on his skin and flesh.
"Help me see how to spell this word."
Johnny pulled off the towel that gagged his mouth and asked the fat man on the ground.
He gasped for air as his breathing became easier. He stared at the newspaper and racked his brains.
He understood that this man was a notorious internationally wanted criminal, active in the South American continent, managing a motorcycle gang, and being the number one figure in it. He would personally participate in various criminal incidents, and even help some members of the motorcycle gang who were indicted and imprisoned.
Escape from prison.
Smuggling arms, human trafficking, selling men to mines, selling women to brothels, setting up private casinos, growing moraceae plants, and synthesizing various chemical agents, producing and selling to after-sales, and working as a killer at the same time, but the methods are not clever, they just kill directly.
Everything is dead, whether it is the civil law system or the maritime law system, it is his guide to life.
Obese men understand that if they cannot answer this question, they may end up in disastrous situations.
He thought for ten seconds and couldn't remember how to spell the word, safe...damn it.
"Don't you know? You're still the warden anyway."
Johnny tore up the newspaper and stared at him calmly.
"Don't kill me... I have money... I have money! I can help you! If your members are detained in this prison, I will release them unconditionally! My uncle is a congressman and he can help you in many places!
"
The obese man panicked and said nothing.
But it's too late.
Johnny took down a billiard cue from the wall, held it flat with both hands, pushed it with his knees, and broke it into two pieces. The broken section had jagged and sharp wooden thorns protruding from it.
It seemed that he had anticipated something and screamed like a slaughtering pig.
Click!
Johnny directly inserted half of a billiard cue into his eye, and pressed it hard. It penetrated from the eye socket to the brain, penetrated the skull, and came out from the back of the head. The Tianling Cap had dried to pieces.
And he died completely violently, lying on the ground, bleeding.
"Stop playing, call the brothers and let's go together."
Johnny said to his two men who were playing billiards.
They have been here for a long time, no less than a week, because the members detained here have been bullied by some jailors for a long time. There are also gangs of various sizes in the prison, and many people stay here specifically to torture those people.
entertainment.
at this time.
The landline phone in the warden's office rang, and Johnny picked it up without any hesitation, not worrying that some guard was calling to negotiate.
The result was beyond his expectation.
"The warden is dead and I am Johnny."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"You're alive again, right?"
Johnny hung up the phone and said to his two men: "You can play whatever you want, I'm going to the Free League, SCT's bad thing."
One of his subordinates was very puzzled.
"I'll go with you, I want to see the world."
Because Johnny has been traveling all over the world this year, this subordinate is a little envious of the feeling of traveling around the world. As a member of the underground world, he also knows what is happening in the world, a very weird disease,
There are also sct and countermeasures bureaus.
As for SCT, it is not an exaggeration to say that it is a criminal group that looks down on all gangs in history. It has reached an unimaginable height. Even some state agencies are vulnerable to this organization.
The speedster gang he belonged to was not eliminated because Johnny joined the SCT. They seemed to want to monopolize the global criminal industry, attacking and annexing other criminal organizations indiscriminately. Their behavior was extremely crazy, and Johnny was in the SCT.
The status seems to be quite high, so the profits of the speedsters do not need to be used to supply SCT. They are one of the few remaining active gangs made up of ordinary people.
"What did you mix in?"
"This is a man's domain."
"You won't understand."
"Just go down and fill up my car's oil."
"One more thing to remember while I'm away."
"Don't spare any Australian guy you meet. That place is simply a big dyeing vat for traitors. By the way, there are also those niggas."
Johnny took another newspaper and played Scrabble.
This subordinate has long been accustomed to his style. Although Johnny has never mentioned his hometown, it can be seen that it is probably in southern Europe.
"What to do with those women?"
The subordinates asked, because they stayed here for a long time, so they asked several members to go to the next town to call a lot of prostitutes.
"If you don't tell me, I've forgotten, stupid sex toys. Let these things go to our place to make money. It's really frustrating to stay in this remote country. I think some of them are pretty fucking young."
Johnny's motorcycle gang mainly operates in Brazil and surrounding areas, and occasionally comes to North America to do business.
Half an hour later.
Johnny's motorcycle oil has been filled up. He is driving a silver Harley motorcycle on the dilapidated roads of the Gobi. The leather seat is a little hot under the sunlight, and the motorcycle engine makes a violent roar.
About twenty people lined up to see him off, all of them strong desperadoes.
Johnny took off his warden costume and put on a rock band-like punk costume with fake zippers and rivets. There were also decorative chains on his pants and leather boots.
Because this place is right next to the Freedom Alliance and it doesn't take long to drive there, he plans to just ride there directly.
"Take this gun with you, boss. There will definitely be trouble for you when crossing the border."
One of the men took a gun and handed it over.
Because Johnny is wanted, the border police will definitely not let him pass, and given his character, he will definitely take it hard.
"You can keep it for yourself, I don't have any use for it anymore."
"A man only speaks with his fists."
After Johnny said that, he stepped on the accelerator of the Harley motorcycle, and burning white smoke came out of the exhaust pipe, disappearing in the desolate desert.
