I cut reality into a movie

But for Dan Taylor, who likes fishing, Miss Angel's refusal is like a fish trying to break free after biting the hook. This is not a blow, but a different kind of taste.

Taking out his cell phone, Dan Taylor dialed a number.

Romon just dialed this number 5 minutes ago, but when Dan Taylor pressed the call button, only a ruthless electronically synthesized voice responded to him:

[Sorry, the number you dialed is currently on the phone, please play again later, sorry, the number you dialed...]

Was blacklisted.

Dan Taylor shrugged speechlessly, but he wasn't angry at the fish's struggle. He just turned his head slightly and asked Secourt beside him:

"Secourt, what do you know about Constable Janfort of the North Division?"

The flattering smile on his face froze for a moment, Seecourt looked at the familiar expression on Dan Taylor's face, and felt entangled in his heart: on the one hand, there was the nobleman who needed to be cursed, and on the other, the extremely annoying criminal policewoman.

It was not a happy thing for Seikot to get these two people together, so after a moment of silence, Sekote said very artistically:

"I don't know much about Police Officer Jenfort. I just know that her jurisdiction is near China Street, and I heard that she likes Chinese food very much and has a good relationship with many Chinese restaurant owners."

Knowing that Dan Taylor is a white supremacist, Secourt deliberately emphasized that Tifa likes Chinese food and has a good relationship with the owner of the Chinese restaurant, just to tell Dan Taylor:

Didn't you fall in love with Jan Forte?Now the girl you like likes the yellow-skinned monkey you hate, you can do this multiple-choice question.

Sure enough, when Tifa and the owner of the Chinese restaurant got closer, even though Dan Taylor tried his best to control his expression, he couldn't help but flash a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

Tifa and the yellow-skinned monkey got close, to Dan Taylor, it was like a dazzling, pure diamond with an ugly crack.

Ah, what a pity that such an attractive white woman should be attracted to those squint-eyed, raw foods that are eaten on sticks.

It seems that she urgently needs to follow someone with taste to see what real high-class food looks like.

Turned on the phone, chose the most upscale French restaurant in San Francisco, and ordered a set of top-notch dinner for two. Dan Taylor sent the invitation letter of the dinner directly to Tifa's mailbox.

He is very confident that the beautiful and charming Ms. Janforte, who is of average financial condition, will definitely be attracted by this French meal invitation, and come to follow him, an excellent white man, to experience what a real upper class should have. Life.

Just as Dan Taylor was full of confidence and sent an invitation to Tifa, Romon was also full of confidence and pushed open the glass door of the San Francisco Police Station.

At the front desk of the police station, the female police officer with a fashionable hair perm treated people very politely. She looked at Romon with a standard American smirk on her face:

"Sir, what do you need?"

"I want to join the job and become a glorious San Francisco police officer to serve all the citizens of San Francisco. I don't know what procedures I need to go through?" Romon showed eight teeth, and as a professional actor, the smirk on his face was even brighter.

"The aisle on my right, the third office, the receptionist inside will answer all your questions."

"Thank you."

After bidding farewell to the police officer at the front desk, Romon entered the No. 40 office. Inside was a white male police officer about [-] years old, with a look of German descent. He saw Romon walk in, and immediately stood up to receive:

"We welcome everyone who inspires service to the citizens of San Francisco, sir, and from the moment you walk into this office, your great character shines under the Stars and Stripes."

The HR of the police station was much more enthusiastic than Romon imagined. It seems that the lack of police force in San Francisco is indeed quite serious.

After all, Romon has only been in San Francisco for more than a month, and he is not usually a person who likes to go shopping. He has encountered three street demonstrations, demanding to cut the police budget.

The public opinion is not good, the wages have decreased, and the job itself is extremely dangerous. People who can now take the initiative to enter the San Francisco Police Department to become police officers are indeed a bit of an endangered animal.

"Coffee or tea? How about some cocoa?"

HR enthusiastically wanted to pour a drink for Romon, but Romon quickly apologized with a smile: "Mr. Police Officer, you are too kind, I can just have coffee."

"Hoffman, just call me Hoffman."

Coming to Romon with coffee, the HR named Hoffman introduced himself.

"Jackie Chen, from Seattle, was a little tired of the high latitudes there, and wanted to come to California, which is located in the sun belt, to change my lifestyle. I used to be a policeman in Seattle, so I didn't have any special skills. Do old business."

It was a self-introduction, but also a background introduction. In a few words, Romon explained all the reasons why he came to San Francisco and became a policeman.

As for Hoffman, hearing that Romon was an old policeman, the smile on his face became even stronger: "Mr. Chen, welcome to San Francisco, and you are even more welcome to the San Francisco Police Department."

"Here is our entry application form. After you fill it out, you can come to our basic police officer test next Monday."

As Hoffman said, he took out an application form and pushed it in front of Romon: "I believe that based on your working experience in Seattle, passing these basic tests is nothing more than a piece of cake."

"So, allow me to pour you a glass of champagne in advance, and welcome you to officially join the San Francisco Police Department."

Hoffman stretched out his hand and held Romon's hand tightly.

As expected of being an HR worker, this Hoffman gives people the feeling that it really reflects an idiom - like a spring breeze.

With a smile on his lips, Romon walked out of the San Francisco Police Headquarters in a happy mood.

Going down the steps, and when they reached the middle of the steps again, Romon saw the duo of Dan Taylor.

Compared to when they had just left the police station, the faces of the two were obviously much gloomy, but Secott still cheered up and kept giving Dan Taylor a psychological massage:

"Sir, I think that old guy Clark is definitely old and confused. You don't have to take his words to heart. If you can't draw John Wick's face, he is useless. Let's find another analog portraitist. I believe that the next portrait artist will definitely be able to draw that bastard!"

"Secot, just to remind you, this is the last well-known analog portrait artist in the United States. You must know that this profession is a rare profession, not everyone can be it."

I understand that Sekot is comforting himself, but many things cannot be solved by comfort.

Dan Taylor could only walk to the police station dejectedly, thinking of a new countermeasure that could restore his internal prestige:

Otherwise, treat these poor ghosts in the police station to a high-end French meal?Or send them some Christmas shopping coupons?Or maybe some tickets to the Fairgrounds Theater to cheer them up?

Anyway, to deal with these poor ghosts, it only takes a few small profits to stun their barren and stupid brains.

Dan Taylor frowned and thought about the countermeasures, and then saw the proud Romon.

Why is it this damn yellow-skinned monkey again?

Dan Taylor's mood was a bit broken, but at this moment, he happened to receive a reply email from Tifa. The content of the email was very simple, just one word - [no time].

"Fuck the Bitch!"

After all, there is a limit to self-cultivation. After this series of high-frequency, high-density, and overwhelming blows, Dan Taylor finally couldn't help but swear.

"Mr. police officer, you are a policeman and a public figure, please pay attention to your quality!"

Romon smiled and reminded Dan Taylor, and without giving him a chance to answer, he picked up the phone that kept ringing:

"Ah, Officer Tifa, just as I walked out of the police station, you gave me a congratulatory call. It seems that we really have a good understanding!"

Romon's God's authority is the youthful version, he has no mind reading skills, he doesn't know what the people around him are thinking, and he doesn't know what he said about Officer Tifa, which almost made Dan Taylor miss his foot, from the front of the police station Roll down the stairs.

"Huh? Invite me to dinner tonight? Okay? What to eat?

The content of the call was completely healthy, and Romon didn't close his voice. Coupled with the clear speech of his professional actor, it can be said that every word in Romon's mouth was clearly transmitted to Dan Taylor's ears.

"Oh? Anything but French food is fine? It's better if there are no complicated dining etiquette? Then let's go eat hot pot, set up a pot, and cook some beef and mutton, and I see that the weather forecast will rain tonight, and it will be served with a cool meal." Ye Yu, let's have a little hot pot, how happy we are."

As Romon walked further and further away, the voice from the voice became lower and lower. After hearing the last word 'Happy', Dan Taylor could no longer hear Romon's voice clearly.

"Who?"

Staring at Romon's back, Dan Taylor's voice was piercingly cold.

How the hell do I know who this is!

I'm not Wikipedia!

What reverberated in my heart was this kind of awesome reply, but what I was actually doing under my feet was Secourt trotting all the way into the police station, asking everyone who was the Asian man who just came in.

It's easier to ask. Secott quickly got all the news about Romon from Hoffman, and then continued to trot back to Dan Taylor and replied:

"Sir, I have asked you clearly. The man's name is Jackie Chen. He is a Chinese policeman who moved from Seattle. He wants to continue working in our San Francisco Police Department."

Secott carefully observed the expression on Dan Taylor's face, and after noticing the gloomy expression on his face, he tried to suggest, "How about I go talk to the director and brush off this Jackie Chen?"

"Flash him? Why?"

Dan Taylor squinted at Secourt, and said in his nasal cavity: "Do you think I can't beat that yellow monkey?"

"No, I mean..."

"Let him in, he must be allowed to enter the San Francisco Police Station!" Ignoring Secott's explanation at all, Dan Taylor just looked at the back of his hand, which was as hairy as an orangutan, and gritted his teeth:

"I will win that damned yellow-skinned monkey head-on, and tell him with facts that after they built the railway 100 years ago, they should go back to the mountains of Asia to eat fruit!"

"Instead of being like parasites, corrupting the land of the United States, intending to use their inferior bodies to pollute our genes!"

Venting out the resentment in his heart, Dan Taylor's eyes cleared up a lot. He turned his head to look at Seikot, and asked knowingly, "Secot, did you hear what I said just now?"

"Reporting sir, not at all. You didn't say a word just now, you just smoked silently." Secott smiled and shook his head, indicating that he didn't hear anything.

"Secot, I think you are a very talented person. Your upper limit is far more than the deputy chief of the San Francisco Police Department. I am optimistic about you."

【Unbelievable World】342967465

Just saying that it is optimistic, but even a hypocritical empty check is not willing to write one.

It has to be said that Dan Taylor has indeed inherited the political talents of the city councilor's father, and he has a lot of experience in playing with his subordinates.

In addition, Sekot loves this set of playing tricks. He obviously didn't hear any guarantees, but he started to fantasize on his own, fantasizing that he would become famous one day with Dan Taylor.

"Come on, Sergeant Secott, let's go back to the team and discuss a new way to capture John Wick."

----

John Wick is a jerk that people dream about, the San Francisco police think about him day and night, and the beautiful lady from New York can fly 4600 kilometers for him.

In the luxurious cabin of the Gulfstream G650, gentle and soft cello music echoes, and a glass of high-end champagne worth hundreds of dollars is blowing dense bubbles and fragrance.

But as the only passenger of Sequence Five, she is not interested in all these luxurious enjoyments, she just focuses on her nails.

She is painting.

Cover the nail of the pinky finger of the left hand and draw it to look like the state flag of California.

A red and white base with a mighty brown bear on it.

To be honest, the pattern of this flag is actually quite complicated, and it is quite a test of the painter's level to draw it on the little finger.

But some people are the number one simulated portrait artist in the United States, and they are also experts in brain science who specialize in craniotomy. Drawing a bear on their nails is not complicated for Sequence Five.

Putting down the precision paintbrush comparable to a watchmaking instrument, Sequence Five opened the palm of his left hand, admiring his latest work, and his slender lips painted with dark purple lipstick slightly curled up:

"California, San Francisco, hopefully it's a pleasant city."

Chapter 049 In the police entrance exam, what's it like to use the Mozambique shooting method (8K)

San Antonio Airport.

This is a private airport affiliated with Bridgewater Pharmaceuticals.

Contrary to the overcrowded atmosphere of San Francisco International Airport, as a private airport that only accepts company executives and VIPs, the atmosphere of San Antonio Airport is so quiet that it is almost deserted.

On the wide airport runway, there is only a black version of the Bentley Mulsanne, quietly waiting for the plane to land.

"Sequence Five? What kind of strange name is this? I've only heard that inmates in prisons use serial numbers as names. How could a company executive who came on a Gulfstream G650 have such a strange name?"

On the co-pilot of the Bentley Mulsanne, a young company receptionist asked with a strange face.

"What prisoner? You fucking use this adjective to describe the company's top management, do you want to die?"

After glaring at this unrestrained young man, the old employee sitting in the driver's seat explained: "Use your stupid brain to keep in mind all the senior leaders who come from the company's headquarters."

"If a number is used as the code name, it means that this high-level executive is the person in charge of a top scientific research project. The code name on her body is not a name, but the code name of the project she is in charge of."

Feeling the senior's death stare, the young man chuckled, rubbed his nose and said sillyly: "I am criticizing all this in front of you, big brother. If the leader is here, how dare I be so careless."

"On the other hand, if this Sequence Five lady is the person in charge of a top scientific research project, then she should be an old lady in her 70s or [-]s."

Bai Bai glanced at his stupid-minded, but handsome junior, and the old employee joked: "Why, you still plan to sacrifice your appearance, thinking about hugging the rich old lady's thigh?"

"If people can see me, it's not impossible." In the young man's eyes, a green layer of green dollars floated: "It's so difficult to make money now, I can have a high-level rich lady from a pharmaceutical company to take care of me, let me say less Fight for ten years."

Just as the old and the young chatted more and more, the Gulfstream G650 that Sequence Five was riding in slowly landed on the airport runway.

The turbine engine of the plane started jetting in reverse, completely agitating the air in San Antonio Airport, which was as quiet as a pool of stagnant water. It seemed to indicate that the Sequence Five lady who came to San Francisco was not destined to be a peaceful and ordinary girl.

The airflow gradually became stable, and the plane landed accurately on the side of the trestle under the pilot's superb skills.

With a bang, the cabin door on the side of the plane opened suddenly, and a pair of short boots with black tassels stepped out, standing firmly on the trestle.

Looking up from the short boots, there is a pair of slender legs wrapped in gray pantyhose, and further up, there is a set of black and white work clothes, which are similar to sailor uniforms and women's OL uniforms.

Uh... maybe work clothes, if the work clothes allow the collar V to be cut so deep.

It took a lot of effort to pull his eyes out of some bottomless ravines, and the receptionist, who was obediently standing on both sides of the Bentley, continued to look up and see the stunning face of the visitor.

What is this? A 70-year-old old lady researcher, the lady in front of me is no more than 25 years old, and this is on the premise that she has painted a gorgeous and mature makeup. If you take off the makeup and look at it again, her actual age may be different Smaller.

However, what surprised the two receptionists more than the age surprise was the lady's shoulder-length, snow-colored hair that radiated the golden afterglow of the setting sun.