Behind the bar, a stooped old black bartender was cleaning glasses. When he saw Hoffa approaching, he asked habitually: "What do you want?"

At that moment, a tall woman came out of the darkness and sat next to Hoffa.

"Whiskey, please."

So Hoffa also said: "Give me a glass of whiskey."

So the bartender served two glasses of whiskey on the rocks. The tall woman next to him took the glasses, smiled, and touched Hoffa's glass with the glasses.

"Good evening."

she said in French.

"Good evening."

Hoffa smiled, raised the cup, dipped his lips into the wine, and then put the cup back.

"You don't seem to be very old."

The woman laughed.

"fine."

Hoffa said with a polite smile.

"Where are you from? Do you go out to play alone?"

The atmosphere here in France is very open, or in other words, the atmosphere in the bar is very open.

"Work, no play."

Hoffa appears honest and distant.

He is not used to drinking, and he is too lazy to strike up a conversation with others. He may have more important things to do later, and he must stay absolutely sober.

"What kind of job do you have to do in a bar?"

The woman put her hand on Hoffa's shoulder, looking curious.

Hoffa raised his eyelids and glanced at the palm on his shoulder, and then looked at the owner of the palm. This was a strange-looking bald woman, wearing gray clothes, with a tall nose and big eyes. She was quite beautiful.

But just because the other party is very good-looking, he feels that something is abnormal. Logically speaking, most beautiful girls will not take the initiative.

He said slowly: "You really take care of a lot."

The bald woman was not angry either. She shrugged and let go, "You are quite aloof."

After saying that, she walked away from him holding the wine glass.

Hoffa didn't pay attention to this episode, but when the bald woman left, he noticed a strange sense of peeping. He couldn't help but look back, but he didn't realize anyone was staring at him. Everyone was immersed in it.

The world of alcohol and sex.

He shook his head and regained his composure.

There were people coming and going in the bar, maybe I was thinking too much.

In this way, Hoffa sat on the high stool for half an hour. No one was interested in his appearance, but it only attracted the attention of the bartender.

The bartender looked at the strange-looking young man in front of him with a somewhat unkind expression.

I saw the guy sitting on the high pedals, with his eyelids drooped and his fingers tapping the table regularly. There was a glass of whiskey on the rocks in front of him. But at this moment, the ice in the amber liquid was almost melting, and condensation formed on the glass.

Densely covered with water drops.

Since this guy came in half an hour ago, he has been sitting there without saying a word. He was very perfunctory when the people around him chatted with him, but he served him a glass of whiskey on the rocks, and he didn't touch it from beginning to end.

The bartender became wary.

Most of the people here have red faces, smoke cigarettes, complain about life and war, and look like they are drunk and waiting to die. Occasionally, there are those guys who deliberately pretend to be serious, and when they meet a beautiful woman, their true colors are revealed.

Already.

After working in this kind of place for many years, he can clearly distinguish those who are deliberately pretending to be cool to attract attention from others, and those who are truly abnormal.

Although the boy in front of him is young, he has a rare sobriety and indifference on his face. He looks like that rare teetotal guy. Why do these guys come to the bar?

Finally, the bartender who was cleaning the glasses couldn't help it anymore. He put down the glass that he had cleaned countless times and said consciously or unconsciously:

"Life is really terrible. There are massacres, bombings and dead people every day. When will this kind of life end?"

Hoffa lowered his head and replied: "What does it have to do with you?"

"Why doesn't it matter?"

The bartender said intentionally or unintentionally: "This world is too dangerous. If you want to live a few more days, you have to think more."

"Just endure it. If you endure it for a few years, you might be able to get rid of it."

He answered absentmindedly, wondering why Noble had been looking for Durant for so long.

"Are you waiting for someone here?"

The bartender figured out why Hoffa was sitting there.

"Aha."

"Aren't you going to drink?"

The bartender pointed to the whiskey in front of Hoffa.

“Do you have to drink when you come to the bar?”

Hoffa asked listlessly.

"Isn't it?"

The bartender touched the area with his dark lips.

Just at this moment, a male customer rushed into the dance floor, hugged a stripper and started kissing her wildly. He was probably very rich and hired a lot of people to open champagne and have a carnival underneath. The dancer screamed, but her voice was drowned in the champagne.

In the sound of spraying.

Bartender: "Look, that's a normal person."

Hoffa impatiently took out a few franc notes and pushed them over, trying to silence this annoying guy with money. Unexpectedly, his hand was pressed down hard by the bartender halfway.

Bang!

The bartender pressed the back of Hoffa's hand and said in a low voice: "Don't pretend, you're not here to drink, right?"

Looking at the dark palm on the back of his hand, Hoffa was slightly surprised at first, and then he grinned and said sarcastically: "Why, does your bar even care about the purpose of the customers?"

After a disagreement, a fierce light flashed across the black man's face, and he reached under the counter, where an old pager lay horizontally: "Do you know whose territory this is?"

Noticing the other party's little move, Hoffa didn't bother to pay attention to it. He tilted his head and said, "How much did Durant give you, and you are so interested in him?"

The bartender picked up the pager, looked at Hoffa and said without blinking: "Come in, there is a mysterious guy here."

He planned to have the guy in front of him taken away, but as he said that, he felt something was wrong. The young guy was looking at him with a joking expression.

Turning his head again, he found that for some reason he was holding a wine bottle and making a phone call.

Such an abnormal and absurd scene made him throw away the bottle of wine as if he was electrocuted, and reached for the shotgun hanging on the wall.

And just when he was about to draw a gun and threaten, at this moment, a dull roar suddenly came from far away.

roar!!

Along with that roar, a figure crashed down from the second floor like a cannonball. He smashed the railings and hit the dance floor where the group of **** people were on the dance floor, smashing a bunch of wine bottles.

Glass shards flying.

Playing cards and banknotes slowly floated down from the sky.

Everyone in the bar was stunned by this sudden scene.

The posing dancer was so frightened that she shrank behind the pole. Several people watching the dance had champagne flowing from their mouths. The card players sat there blankly holding their cards.

It was quiet for about three seconds.

Only then did the waitresses carrying the plates react. They threw the plates away, covered their heads and screamed.

The high-pitched scream was like the fuse that ignited chaos.

It only took a second for the bar to descend into complete chaos.

The bartender suddenly picked up the shotgun, and Hoffa stood up suddenly and punched the black bartender in the nose.

The poor bartender was knocked to the ground by the punch before he could even open the safety cover, and passed out with blood gushing from his nose.

Then Hoffa rushed to the center of the chaos.

I saw Norbert, who had just left, lying sprawled in the middle of a pile of broken boards, his left arm twisted into a weird arc, and he was coughing up blood from the corner of his mouth.

There were five huge wounds carved on his chest, as if scratched by a wild beast.

Hoffa was shocked and squatted down.

"Hey, old guy, what's wrong with you?"

"Ahem...it's okay..."

Noble looked sideways at Hoffa and struggled to push himself up from the ground.
Chapter completed!