"Sir, where are you going?" The driver adjusted the rearview mirror and asked politely.
"Made Hotel, thank you." Ronan closed the car door and responded with a smile.
The driver stepped on the accelerator and drove away from the square.
Staring at the fleeting scenery outside the window, Ronan had something on his mind.
He planned to try his luck on the street next to Med Hotel to see if he could find out the whereabouts of Paul and his party.
Just listening to the name, he seems to have a certain connection with the Paul mentioned in the night.
If there was no connection, Quan would have been busy in vain.
If so, you might be able to follow this line and gain access to the black market exchange.
A few days ago, Britney dressed up in disguise and was intercepted by Master Paul after eating out.
At that time, Ronan had some friction with him and almost lost his life.
He didn't seem to panic at all when asking his enemies to do something, and he seemed to have an idea.
As the saying goes, fight poison with poison and violence with violence.
Even when faced with rogues, there are ways to deal with rogues.
Of course, Ronan had a simpler and more effective way, but it was directly ruled out.
That is to load the file and go back, help Paul deal with the brave little fat man, and kidnap Britney.
Ronan could do this, but won't.
The reason why people are human is that they still have to have some bottom line.
"Here we are, sir."
The taxi stopped smoothly outside the Med Hotel, and the doorman took the initiative to step forward and open the door.
Ronan paid the fare and took an extra card and handed it to the doorman.
After having unlimited save and load files, his desire for money became increasingly thin.
Money, paper.
Anyway, you can buy lottery tickets to play them out, or load files, and your shots will become more generous.
After leaving the Med Hotel and arriving at the street where the incident occurred that day, Ronan looked up at the street name.
Piketer Street.
It is now two or three o'clock in the afternoon. After dinner, there are almost no customers in the restaurant.
The shop owner picked at his feet, raised his baggy pants, and stared at the TV on the shelf.
In the picture, three beautiful bodybuilding instructors are posing in aerobics poses, constantly shouting: "One, two, three, four, two, two, three, four..."
Ronan took a cursory glance and continued walking inside without stopping.
When he reached the end of the street, he fell back and stopped in front of the barbed wire fence of a basketball court.
Several people wearing hip-hop were running back and forth, playing street basketball.
Sitting beside the barbed wire was a tall, thin, handsome boy with Pepsi-Cola blue hair.
"Hey, this friend." Ronan walked over, pulled the wire, and took the initiative to strike up a conversation: "Do you know where Paul is?"
The man turned around, his face was long and his nose was straight.
When someone inquired about Paul, he asked, "What do you want?"
This answer shows that he knows.
"Wow!"
Following the cheers after the basketball entered the frame, six basketball players came over, ready to replenish some water.
A black guy with tattoos on his arms looked at Ronan outside the barbed wire, then glanced at the handsome boy, raised his chin: "Hey, electric eel, who is this handsome guy?"
"Electric eel?" Ronan chuckled: "That nickname is a bit interesting."
Seeing his reaction, the black boy understood that the two of them didn't know each other.
He rolled his dark eyes, as if he intended to make Electric Eel look embarrassed, and said to himself: "Do you know why he is called Electric Eel? This guy always likes to add electronic sounds when recording songs."
The electric eel was very dissatisfied after hearing this, and stood up with wide eyes: "How can you accuse someone of innocence out of thin air!"
"Innocent?" The black guy opened the mineral water and took a sip. He mocked, "You can't listen to the songs you recorded without the electronic music."
Faced with such ridicule, the electric eel blushed.
The veins on his forehead popped out, and he argued: "That's called auto-tune, automatic tuning. Can tuning be considered electronic music?"
Everyone laughed and left with their clothes and backpacks.
When Ronan came to the electric eel, he didn't talk nonsense. He casually took out three hundred dollars and shook it: "Take me to Paul, and the money will be yours."
The electric eel glared at Ronan, very dissatisfied that he had just caused her embarrassment: "You have to add more."
Ronan looked at him with a half-smile: "How much do you think is appropriate?"
"No matter what..." The electric eel first made an eight sign, and then put away one finger: "One thousand, otherwise there is no need to talk."
"A thousand?" Ronan grinned, took out the cursed hammer from the system backpack, and lightly touched the electric eel's chest with the hammer: "Is that enough now?"
Feeling the heavy texture of the hammer, the electric eel's pupils shrank, confused and frightened by the sudden appearance of the hammer.
His strong desire to survive made him raise the finger he just pointed out: "One hundred... will do."
Seeing that the other party didn't respond, the electric eel pushed the hammer awkwardly: "Looking at how handsome you are, I won't charge you any money. Look at this hammer... can you hold it farther?"
Seeing Ronan holding the handle of the hammer with a smile on his face, the electric eel trembled and was so frightened that he quickly performed a freestyle: "Look... look at this hammer. It's big and round, and even the handle is hard and long." …”
"Okay, okay, do you know where Paul is?" Ronan put his hand on the electric eel's shoulder.
When the electric eel heard this, he kept nodding his head: "He has a billiards room, I will take you there."
On the way to find Paul, Ronan got some information from the electric eel.
Paul's father, Paul Sr., was a gang leader and a well-known philanthropist in New York who ran some dock and transportation businesses.
In my impression, it seems that most of the people doing illegal business are philanthropists, using their good public image as a cover.
The young master Paul that Ronan is looking for is Paul Sr.'s eldest son, and he is considered one of the most powerful people in this area.
After all, Manhattan is densely populated, and it’s not the Paul family that has the final say.
"This is it."
After the electric eel took Ronan to a billiards room, he took advantage of his daze and fled away.
Ronan didn't pursue it. He looked up at the somewhat broken light box sign and saved it.
Pushing the door open, there were not many people inside.
Ronan took a cursory glance and quickly saw Paul at the table at the end.
He had a band-aid on his face, a cast on his left arm, and was playing billiards with one hand.
The men on the side were also injured, as if they had been through a fierce battle.
Unable to use his strength to play billiards with one hand, Paul missed the shot and angrily threw the cue to the ground.
The person who was closer to Ronan took a puff of cigarette, leaned on his club and asked quietly: "What's wrong with him?"
"I heard that I was attacked and ambushed, and I almost lost my life."
"Black Scorpion's gang?"
"Shh, don't let Paul hear it. Be careful about whipping you."
The man picked up the club and handed it to Paul as if to please: "Master, we were not prepared enough last night and were tricked. We will find the place again another day!"
"Look for your mother. Can't you see that my hands are like this? Tsk, I've been really unlucky recently..."
As he was talking, Paul caught a glimpse of Ronan walking over, and his eyes suddenly lit up: "Aha, it looks like I'm about to get lucky."
"Huh?" His subordinates were a little confused.
"Why are you still standing there? Come on!"