[BL, MTL] I'm Not Shouldering This Blame

Chapter 122: Twists & Turns

Bullets hit the walls, and the smell of gunsmoke filled the entire block.

Johnson cowered behind a refrigerator, his face covered in black and gray stains, and he was dressed in very unfashionable clothes—a pink jacket and a woolen skirt, and a hairpin on his head.

He closed his eyes, breathed heavily, looked scared, and trembled slightly.

The whispering stopped, and Johnson was still cowering there, his skirt peeking out from behind the refrigerator.

The sound of leather boots stepping on the rubble was getting closer and closer, and suddenly the refrigerator that Johnson was leaning on flew up in the air, and he fell to the ground in embarrassment, letting out a scream of fear.

"Aha, look what I found, a little wild cat."

Johnson's reddish-brown hair was ear-length, and he was very thin because of malnutrition, and he covered part of his cheek with his hair, so that the face was only the size of a palm, and it was covered with dust, and his blue eyes were wet and full of fear.

A large, gruff hand grabbed "her" by the shoulder and lifted Johnson up.

He struggled like a girl, kicking, reaching out and trying to scratch.

A gun pressed against his chest, and the other party maliciously used the steaming muzzle of the gun to rub the slightly curved breasts of the "girl" through the clothes, and the soft dent effect made the thugs very satisfied.

"Little wild cat, I'm scared! Want to scream and shout your parents, your driver, your bodyguard? "

Johnson's clothes are all famous brands now, and he also wears himself a small platinum brooch and a string of pearl necklaces, and now the brooch has been rudely pulled off, and the clothes are torn into a small hole.

Up close, Johnson saw the hideous face of the gunman's bald head and beard.

Some are familiar, seen on TV, wanted......

The thug was even more excited when he found that the "girl" recognized him, and he licked his lips, imagining what it would be like for the little girl in his hand to scream.

"You guys who grew up sitting in piles of dollars, drinking red wine, driving sports cars, going out as teenagers to hook up with women and seducing men, your parents have money, they can carry it for you no matter what mistakes you make, everyone else is garbage...... Little Wildcat, you're going to be turned into a trash-guy toy in no time! "

Johnson's face was pale, he was strangled by the neck and dragged all the way out.

Bodies of those who had been shot and killed lay on the side of the road, and screams were constantly coming from the rubble.

The wanted criminals whistled and brought the "trophies" to the intersection, where there were dozens of heavily armed Adepts, both men and women, with combat boots on their feet and charging in their hands. Gun.

"Whoever told you to take people out, kill."

"Kill if you play." The thug touched Johnson's chest with his hand and bargained with his companions.

"You're going to figure out what we're doing, an S-class adequacy is hiding in this neighborhood......"

It was a woman who spoke, angry, and looked at Johnson with scrutinizing eyes.

The "girl" sobbed in humiliation and fear under the hands of the thugs, looking very pitiful.

There were many people interested in "her", and one man even whistled.