Chapter 394 "Sir, Where Is Your Gentlemanly Demeanor that You Are so Proud Of?"

It was late at night, and everything was silent.

In an elegant garden building in the western suburbs of Changning, the originally peaceful atmosphere was suddenly torn apart by a terrified shout.

This sudden sound instantly made the entire building tense.

The servants and bodyguards rushed out of their rooms, their faces full of confusion and anxiety, and ran upstairs all the way to the bedroom door where the shout came from.

When everyone rushed into the bedroom, the scene in front of them made them almost speechless.

On the bed, a bloody horse head suddenly caught their eyes, and the blood was particularly dazzling under the light.

Charles was standing by the bed at this moment, his face full of cold sweat, and his eyes revealed an unconcealable fear.

Originally, he was sleeping with his lover in his arms, but suddenly he felt an inexplicable strange feeling. This discomfort made him lift the quilt, and he actually saw a horse head with eyes wide open!

He took a closer look and immediately figured out that the horse was actually the racehorse he had raised for many years. Not only was it slaughtered, but it was also stuffed into his bed without anyone noticing.

"Shit!" Charles roared angrily, his voice full of disbelief and anger.

He pointed at the people in front of him and asked sternly: "Who of you did this?!"

However, facing his questioning, the bodyguards and servants looked at each other and shook their heads to deny it.

Charles looked at each servant and bodyguard, his eyes revealing deep suspicion, and then he waved his hand impatiently, motioning them all to leave the room.

He was sure that there must be spies in the house who were bought by others.

Although he had changed several batches of servants and bodyguards, strange events continued to occur.

Blood suddenly spurted out of the shower head while taking a shower, the bloody words "Give me back my life" were written on the bedroom wall, the clothes in the closet were suddenly replaced with prison uniforms, and now even the head of the beloved racehorse was cruelly cut off.

All this made him feel terrified and uneasy, and he had not been able to sleep well for several days!

Even the servants talked about it privately, and some even thought that he had offended the gods and suffered retribution.

But as the chief supervisor of the police station, Charles did not believe in these ghosts and gods at all.

He firmly believed that this was the revenge of his enemies, but despite sending people to squat day and night, he could not find the trace of the murderer.

Anger and helplessness intertwined in Charles' heart. He walked to the wine cabinet with a dark face, trying to numb himself with alcohol.

"Darling, you have drunk enough tonight..." The White Russian lover came over in a gauze pajamas and gently admonished.

However, Charles was upset at the moment. He kicked his lover away and said sternly: "Get out!"

He could no longer tell who was a spy in the family, or they were all.

After the woman left sadly, Charles bit off the bottle cap directly and poured strong liquor into the bottle mouth, trying to numb his nerves with alcohol.

At this moment, a noisy sound suddenly came from outside the bedroom.

Before he had time to think about it, a sharp gunshot suddenly sounded, instantly breaking the tranquility of the night.

Charles' face turned pale in an instant. He hurriedly threw the bottle of wine in his hand aside, ran to the bedside table, quickly opened the drawer, and held the pistol in his hand tightly.

The next second, the door was kicked open by someone, and the strong shock almost made the whole room tremble.

"You." Charles's hand holding the gun trembled slightly, looking at the gang of gangsters in front of him with their faces covered, his eyes were full of doubt and anger, "Do you know where this is? Do you know who I am? How dare you be here?"

Before he finished speaking, the first person tore off the black cloth on his face, revealing a fierce face.

It was Bi Shucheng who was negotiating with Zheng Jirong. His eyes flashed with cunning and cruelty. He smiled at Charles and said, "Mr. Charles, don't be nervous. We just come to borrow some money from you. As long as you cooperate, I promise that nothing will happen to you."

"What a joke!" Although Charles' body was trembling slightly, he shouted fearlessly, "This is the concession. A few streets away is the British barracks! If you dare to fire a gun here, none of you will escape!"

"It seems that you don't know yet."

Bi Shucheng spread his hands nonchalantly and sneered, "There was a fire in your Asia Building and SH. Those were all built by you British people at a high price. Now they should be busy putting out the fire. How can they care about you?"

Just as he was talking, the telephone in the bedroom suddenly rang, and the sharp ringing sounded particularly harsh at this moment.

Bi Shucheng shrugged and smiled, "Look, I didn't lie to you, this call should be to notify you to put out the fire."

"You...you are really crazy"

Charles looked at the people opposite him in shock. The Asia Building and the SH General Assembly are both landmark buildings of their country in Shanghai. These people dared to attack these places!

"Who are you!" He shouted at everyone.

"It doesn't matter who we are, but there is someone you must know", Bi Shucheng said and stepped aside. A figure slowly walked in from the corridor.

When he saw the person clearly, Charles' pupils shrank suddenly, and a huge anger instantly surged into his heart. He pointed at the person and cursed: "Fuck! It turned out to be you, bastard!"

"Hahahaha."

Zheng Jirong walked up to him with a big laugh, looking at him with a playful look in his eyes, "Long time no see, by the way, are you satisfied with the gifts I gave you these days, Mr. Charles?"

"So you made them!"

Charles' face flushed immediately, and he pointed at him angrily and cursed: "Fuck, I knew it was you, you bastard, you damn bastard."

"Shh"

Zheng Jirong put his finger to his mouth, looked at him seriously and asked: "Mr. Charles, where is your proud gentlemanly demeanor?"

"You"

Charles choked when he heard the words, he stared at the man in front of him and gritted his teeth and said: "What do you want to do?"

"Of course it's murder for money, you can't even see that, how can you be the supervisor of the police station?"

Zheng Jirong responded nonchalantly, then quickly took action, snatched the gun from Charles' hand, and then strangled him tightly.

He stared into Charles's frightened blue eyes, and a cold smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "Look, when you are about to die, your proud bloodline and so-called gentlemanly demeanor seem so pale and powerless."

Charles had difficulty breathing, his eyes were full of unwillingness, and he squeezed out a voice from his throat with difficulty: "You will have retribution!"

"Hehe."

Zheng Jirong sneered and shook his head contemptuously: "Retribution? You don't deserve me to suffer retribution."

Crack

With a crisp bone breaking sound, Charles' body fell weakly in front of Zheng Jirong.

Zheng Jirong pushed him away mercilessly, took out the handkerchief in his pocket, wiped his hands and said to Bi Shucheng with complicated eyes: "Don't dawdle, leave when you find the money, this night has just begun, and there are still many fun places to go."

"."