America’s Big Hero

When Old Mike made the siege, Richie Roberts breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, but his face was still indignant. He put the muzzle down but did not put it back into his pocket, he still held it in his hand, staring at Sean vigilantly.

Old Mike shook his head slightly. He was so aggressive when he was young, but, gradually, the edges and corners were smoothed out, and he became congenial.

"Do you need to keep it as evidence?" Sean took off his clothes and pants, reached out to pick them up, and handed them over.

"Give it to me." Seeing that Old Mike didn't speak, Rich Roberts took a deep breath and reached out to take it with a cold face. Watching Sean walking towards the bathroom, he couldn't help but say again, "Hey, you..."

"Don't worry, I'll open the bathroom door and let you watch me take a shower." Sean waved his hands and walked into the bathroom without looking back, without looking at Richie Roberts from beginning to end.

The water sprayed down and sprinkled on Sean's head. The water flowed from the wound on the back of the head, causing a tingling sensation, but Sean enjoyed it a little.

The stinging pain was so real, telling myself that everything was real.

I don't know why, I died, but I was resurrected on this man named Sean Rockefeller, but the reason is not important anymore, it is the most important thing that I am alive.

The two kinds of memories, including emotions, were all fused together and inherited by him now, as if the soul was completely fused.

Since this is the United States, from now on, I am Sean K. Rockefeller!

K stands for king, king, and it is also the inheritance of the surname 'king'.

As for the trouble just now...

The gangs fought against each other, and the machine guns fired. It is indeed a country with a breath of freedom in the air.

This is very American!

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of the air called freedom with a face full of enjoyment, and the sweetness of desire came to his nostrils.

There is nothing more suitable for you than here!

He stretched out his hand, poured water on his hand, and slowly clenched his fist. The corner of Sean's mouth slightly curved. He felt that he had grasped the pulse of time.

In the living room, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom, Richie Roberts frowned and looked at Old Mike, "Mike, don't you think this guy is acting too abnormal?"

"You have seen what the scene is like. It's like the battlefield. You know how many bullets those guys fired. In this case, you can still run home after being hit in the head. This is definitely not something that ordinary pizza shop waiters can do. of."

"Can ordinary people remain calm and refute when confronted with police questions after being shot, murdered and injured?"

"I know the person who died. He is a gang member. There are no outsiders in the pizza shop. I'm sure this guy is a gang member!"

"As long as you open a breach in him, you can find out who committed the murder!"

Old Mike pulled over a chair and sat down, and said slowly, "You can ask slowly when you go back."

In fact, Old Mike didn't doubt Sean at all. He had been a police officer for nearly 30 years, and there was not much news in the streets of Newark that could hide from him.

The black fat man who died was called Daniel, nicknamed 'Truck', the gang leader in this area. This was a typical gang vendetta, with a strong warning.

The perpetrator is a veteran, quick-witted, neat, ruthless, and doesn't care about the lives of ordinary people.

The mafia family 'Seramanga'.

Evidence, no, no need, these are all experiences.

It is impossible to solve the case. The Salamanga family has been standing for decades and has a very mature set of action rules. After finishing the case, the people in the action team are now out of New Jersey.

And Sean, Old Mike didn't think he was a gang member either. He had been in the police system for 30 years, and he could smell the gang members from a few hundred meters away.

As for why he behaves so different from ordinary people in the face of vendetta attacks and injuries, it may be because of his special experience or because he has a strong heart. Everyone has their own secrets, and old Mike doesn't care.

He took a towel to dry his body. The wound on the back of his head was flushed by the water and began to seep blood. Sean didn't care, he walked out of the bathroom with a relaxed face, and found a set of clean clothes to put on.

"Let's go, two police officers, it's a pity, it seems that you didn't call an ambulance, so you can only go to the hospital first." Walking in front of Mike and the two, Sean said with a smile.

"You... wait until the police station, I'll see how arrogant you are." Richie glared at Sean and said while biting his lower lip.

"Is there? Then I think you must have misunderstood something." Sean's expression remained unchanged, and he walked past Richie to the door, "I'm a pizza shop employee and the victim of this shooting incident. One, was injured in the attack, and was mentally traumatized and traumatized, as a taxpayer, isn’t it a reasonable request for me to go to the hospital now?”

"You don't look like a traumatized person." Richie snorted.

"Only doctors are qualified to judge this. Now, I'm going to close the door. Can the two police officers come out first?"

"FK!" Richie cursed in a low voice with an ugly face, and old Mike walked out as if nothing had happened.

After locking the door, Sean walked in front of the two of them, "I won't complain about your insulting me, so no thanks."

…

"Here." A man with brown hair, parted, and a rectangular face full of folds stood at the door of Sean's room.

Reached out and knocked on the door, "Bang bang bang."

"Sean, open the door!"

After a while without seeing anyone, the man frowned, turned and walked towards the neighbor's house next to him.

Knock on the door and say hello, the door opened a gap.

"Hello, my name is Sol, Sol Goodman, and I'm a lawyer." Sol handed the business card over and said, "I'm here to find Sean, may I ask, when does he usually come back?"

"He?" The black man looked down at the poster before fully opening the door, "Normally speaking, it's 10 o'clock in the evening, but you'd better go to the police station if you want to find him. Two policemen have just arrived and brought Sean with him. gone."

"Take it away? Why?"

"Then I don't know." The black man shook his head regretfully.

"Okay, I got it, thank you." Sol thanked him and returned to his broken Suzuki. After a few tries, it finally caught fire, and after a puff of black smoke, he drove towards the police station.

…

The police car was parked at the gate of the hospital. Sean, who pushed the door to get out of the car, did not enter the hospital. Instead, he turned around to block the door and leaned over to Richie who was about to get out of the car and said, "At first glance, you are a newcomer to the industry."

Richie didn't speak, stared at Sean with a dark face and waited for the next sentence.

"If I were you, when I was in my house just now, I would close the door and beat me hard, and no one saw it anyway, and the police officer who was on the sidelines obviously couldn't testify for me, saying that you beat me ."

"And now I'm about to walk into the hospital. After a series of examinations, how many injuries I have will be recorded on the record. So, unfortunately, you lost the only chance to vent your anger, Mr. Honest Police Officer."

"You!" Richie gritted his back molars, his face even darker.

"Trust me, young man, even if you don't do it, I have many ways to teach you a lesson." Old Mike opened the car door and walked out.

"Don't be angry, I have no ill intentions." Sean smiled and spread his hands, "Trust me, I'm doing it for his own good. Being a police officer is too upright and will hurt him."

Sean and Old Mike walked in the front, but Richie walked behind like a sidekick, his face darkened and his heart secretly working hard.

"It seems that the bullet hit the back of your head after being ejected indoors. The bullet has no more kinetic energy. Otherwise, you should be in the morgue now." A young doctor said with the film in his hand.

"Except for the 3-centimeter-long wound on the back of the head, it was a slight concussion."

"In the past few days, there will be some disturbance of consciousness, followed by amnesia of recent events, and some other symptoms, such as dizziness, nausea, tinnitus, insomnia, photophobia, anorexia, vomiting, etc. It usually heals after a week."

"You are very lucky, thank the Lord."

"I also consider myself lucky." Sean grinned, revealing his standard eight teeth.

"You don't need anesthesia, just sew needles." In the surgical emergency room, Sean smiled and waved to the doctor holding the anesthetic.

"You're sure, UU reading www.uukanshu.com hurts." The doctor looked at Sean in surprise.

"Pain can make people remember something better, it will remind me to remember." Sean squinted and said, "Never give others a chance to point a gun at themselves!"

The doctor shrugged and said nothing. He picked up the curved needle and passed it directly through the flesh of the wound. The muscles on Sean's face kept beating, but his body remained motionless.

Seeing that the flesh was pierced by the needle, provoked, pulled, sewed, and knotted, Richie swallowed subconsciously, and even felt that Sean was perverted, and normal people couldn't do this kind of behavior.

Old Mike took a deep look at Sean, then turned around and walked out, leaning against the wall outside the emergency room to take a nap.

…

After waiting for a long time, Sol almost fell asleep on the seat, and finally saw Sean walking beside the two policemen.

He stood up and tidied up his suit, showing a professional smile, stood up and strode up to meet him.

"Hello, two officers, I'm Sean's lawyer, and my name is Saul Goodman."

Richie took Saul's lawyer's license and glanced at it in astonishment, but the three of them had been together all the way, and Sean had never called a lawyer at all.

"Your client just shot the scene of the homicide together and fled with injuries. We suspect that he was a participant in the shooting." Rich didn't like lawyers very much, and handed back his lawyer's certificate with a cold face.

"As a legal citizen and taxpayer, my client was injured in the shootout. The public security environment in Newark has been getting worse and worse in recent years. This is the police's negligence. I will question the police work on my behalf. We Where's the taxpayer's money going?" Sol immediately showed the tough side of lawyers.

Although I don't know exactly what happened, it's right to ask questions.