In an old-fashioned bar in Queens, XX City, North America.

All the guests had been cleared away, and dozens of tall, round-waisted black men stood or sat with serious expressions, listening to the lectures of the fat old black man in front of them.

"Shit!"

The old black man cursed angrily, "How dare those damn white ghosts from Fake come to my territory to cause trouble!"

He looked at the strong black man with a scorpion tattoo on the left side of his neck and asked in a rough voice: "Lyder, have you pried open that white guy's mouth? What's his background?"

Leder's dark face moved and he smiled jokingly: "After I peeled off the tattoo on his back and poured two bottles of whiskey on it, the white ghost said everything."

"Hey, Man! You are so creative. I even wonder if you graduated from Harvard." The old black man looked at him in surprise.

"Ohyeah, Dad, you guessed it right, I am a doctor of human body science!" Ryder rubbed his nose and bumped his crotch shaft while laughing obscenely.

"Fake, you should really become a comedian! Hahahahaha!"

After hearing what the black man with scorpion tattoos said, the black man immediately burst into laughter, and the other black men in the bar also laughed wildly.

The old black man smiled and frowned, then put his head towards Leder and sniffed vigorously. Then his nose immediately trembled three times and he couldn't help but sneeze.

"Thank you for your generous gift!"

The black father rubbed his nose and glared angrily at Leder, who had a confused look on his face, and cursed, "How much Gucci perfume have you sprayed on? You look like you just crawled out of a urinal in Amsterdam's red light district."

Same! I remember that you have damn yellow blood, right? Your body odor is not that strong, right?"

"Uh, Boss..."

Leder chuckled and scratched his cheek, "Actually, before I came to the meeting, I skinned someone, and it smelled like blood. I'm sorry I didn't have time to take a shower."

"Fine."

The old black man breathed out, shook his head and continued, "Don't go off on a fucking tangent. Tell me, where did that son of a bitch come from?"

"Aha." Ryder raised his eyebrows proudly and smiled, then he took out a cigar box from the bag next to him with two fingers and placed it on the bar.

Patta——

When he opened the box, there was no cigar inside, but four ragged fingers with wet blood on them.

There is an English letter tattooed on the back of each finger, and the combination is:

"Fire!"

The black dad glared and said, "It's those sick-brained bastards from Hellfire!"

"Those guys are all crazy cultists."

He rubbed the stubble on his chin and asked, "Aren't they doing fraud on the West Coast? Why are they here?"

Immediately, the old black man looked at Ryder and said: "I remember... Hellfire has never been involved in the 'drug' business, so why would he send a few white ghosts to Queens to sell goods?"

"Well, it seems that the purpose of these neurotic guys is not to sell goods. They seem to want to use 'drugs' to trick a few drug addicts into participating in some of their 'god-summoning rituals.'"

Leder scratched his bald head, "I smoothed that white guy's upper gums before he said it."

"Fake, do you think I will believe this? Are you going all this way just to find someone to participate in some fucking ritual? Don't fucking fool me!"

The black father bared his teeth and said fiercely, "There are no gods, ghosts, or other bullshit in this world. These guys must have ulterior motives!"

"But no matter how much I torture him, that guy can't tell anything new, and..."

Leder shrugged and said regretfully, "I forgot to stop his bleeding. Well, he's already dead."

"Shit! I take back what I just said, you are an idiot who didn't even graduate from high school!"

"You're really right this time." Ryder replied with a playful smile. The scorpion tattoo trembled and looked extremely ugly.

"correct."

He seemed to have remembered something, reached out again, took out a tan music box from his travel bag, placed it casually on the bar, and said:

"The 'God Summoning Ceremony' mentioned by that white ghost is a bit funny. There is no need to recite poems or worship. You only need to twist the bottom of the music box three times to complete it. Well, maybe Jesus will be summoned, hehehe."

"Jesus? Huh, what's so trustworthy about a guy who will die if you hammer in three nails?"

The black dad sneered, "If you really want to believe it, you might as well believe it for '50 Cents.' At least he was shot nine times and didn't die."

Forget it, let’s talk about other things.”
Chapter completed!