My Beauty Collection: Starting from Banshee Town

Chapter 370

The bartender has always had a good memory, maybe he found something in the camera.

At Ethan's suggestion, three people and two cars returned to the place last night.

The night and day here are completely different.

The breeze swept by, making the garbage on the ground even more messy.

The door was ajar, and there was silence inside.

After a few of them went in, they saw the bartender standing behind the bar last night weakly laying out drinks.

"Out of business hours."

Hearing footsteps, he said wearily.

But the voice came straight to the bar, and the bartender turned angrily: "Now it's..."

In the middle of speaking, he stopped.

The bartender had a stiff expression and looked helplessly at the three people in front of him.

"It seems that you still remember us."

Phillips pulled up a stool and sat down. "Can I have three beers?"

Seeing the badge and change he put on the table, the bartender gritted his teeth and collected the money.

He picked up three cups, went to the draft beer machine and broke off the handle:
"I know, I can't afford to offend you guys."

"If you have anything to ask directly, I will try my best to cooperate." The bartender put three glasses of beer in front of them respectively.

Ethan took out the camera and pushed it in front of him:

"We're looking for a pervert who's killing young girls, I'd appreciate it if you could take a look."

"alright."

The bartender pouted and picked up the camera: "I'll try it."

"You don't want us to come to you every day, do you?" Phillips picked up his beer glass and took a big sip.

"I know."

The bartender pressed the camera hard and looked at the photos inside: "Most of the so-called Satanists who come here to play are tourists."

"These bastards are far less arrogant and domineering than they seem."

"Those?" Ethan downed half a glass of draft beer in one breath:

"do not you?"

"I'm not one of those psychopaths."

The bartender said disdainfully: "I'm in this business just to make money, and the girls here are especially easy to get started with. This is the only benefit."

"Just be fierce and secretive, and there's a line of girls waiting in my bed."

"Otherwise, I would have quit."

While speaking, he turned on the camera several times for Phillips, asking him to take pictures, and those were all the people he thought were really vicious.

One of them was the black-haired man whose arm was broken last night.

Ethan lit his cigarette and drank his beer slowly.

At this moment, the bartender stopped pressing his fingers again, and he actually showed indifferent expressions on the few people who showed up just now.

But now, there was obvious horror and disgust in his eyes.

That subtle expression change failed to escape the eyes of the three of them, and Hank asked in a low voice, "What did you find?"

The bartender showed his camera: "This guy is a pervert."

Ethan and the others leaned forward to take a closer look. On the small screen was a white man in his 30s with brown hair.

On his forehead, there are two bulging meat buns on one side, about the size of beef balls.

It looks like two pairs of meat horns.

horn!

Ethan turned his head abruptly, meeting the gazes of Phillips and Hank, and the three had the same idea.

He flicked off the cigarette ash, and asked in a deep voice, "What's the name of this person?"

"Bod."

The bartender thought for a while and said with certainty: "Declan Bird."

"He was a big fan of Satanism."

Hank raised his beer glass: "Is this Bod a regular at your bar?"

"It's not anymore. I used to come here often. He liked to talk to others. Maybe he was looking for fanatics like him. I don't know."

The bartender shrugged and continued: "Not many people liked him at the time because he was a little too crazy."

Ethan raised his eyebrows and asked with a smile:

"So you're saying this guy is so fanatical that he freaks out all the other satanists?"

"Can I have one?"

After obtaining Ethan's consent, the bartender took out a cigarette from his cigarette case and lit it: "Actually, you all know that most people play this thing, one is to make themselves unique."

"Another one is that it is easy to find women in these places."

"These two points have never changed."

"So when you meet someone as real as Declan Bird, it's natural to be terrified."

The bartender said with a disgusted expression: "One time he drank too much and kept talking to me about Lucifer. This guy has gone crazy."

“He said he could hear Lucifer communicating with him, creating a supernatural connection.”

"Many people will be like this." Ethan pushed the empty beer glass aside:
"Those people come here, don't they all talk about these things?"

The bartender bit the cigarette and held out his palm to them:
"See the nails on it?"

"When I expressed doubts about that lunatic's words, he grabbed the fruit knife in my hand and picked off his nails one by one."

"While picking, laughing, and don't forget to drink."

When he said this, the bartender shuddered all over.

Phillips looked at the half glass of beer left in his hand, and put it down helplessly: "It sounds like we need to see this person."

"Now, please tell me his address."

The bartender looked at him in disbelief and scratched his head: "Am I saying so much for nothing?"

"How could I have such a lunatic's contact information."

Hank gulped down the beer and put down the glass with a bang: "I can't refute your reason. I believe you are telling the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth."

The bartender rolled his eyes: "Now you go, I still have a lot of things to do."

Walking out of the bar, the three stopped in front of the vehicle.

Ethan stomped out the cigarette butt: "Guys, I bet this Declan Bird is the murderer, one hundred dollars, anyone play with me?"

Phillips leaned against the car door angrily: "Send you money?"

Ethan smiled: "Please, it sounds like he is the most perverted person, but it doesn't mean he is a murderer. You have a high chance of winning. How about two hundred dollars? If you lose, just give me fifty dollars."

"There is no fifty, only a very strong middle finger, do you want it?"

Phillips is not a fool, and now all the clues point to this man named Declan Bird.

Seeing the two of them laughing and cursing like this, Hank stood aside and smiled slightly.

He rarely saw his old buddy and young man like this, maybe the relationship between the two of them was more complicated than he imagined.

At this moment, Phillips' cell phone rang.

He hastily pressed the answer button, indicating to be quiet.

While in the bar, Phillips sent the name he just got to the bureau, trying to find clues in the database.

Unexpectedly, there was a reply so soon.

(End of this chapter)