In the room, the pressing rhythm was flowing at a very slow speed. When something bad happened, time always slowed everything down at the opposite rhythm, which was very painful.￥f,.

The six guns pressed on Doko and Damas' heads were the metronomes of this rhythm. The angry gaze of a mixed-race man of Russian descent on the sofa in the room made the whole room full of hostility. Almost everyone was waiting for the development of the situation, only Doko and others were completely different.

The second time Duoke stepped into the room, he was pushed by a pistol on his head, but until now, he did not show any fear, and responded to a sarcastic voice with an expression without any smile: "Haha..."

These two false smirks seemed to be the protagonist in an American drama who heard a not funny joke, but this kind of sound was surprisingly bold in the current environment.

"My dearest cousin, what does this mean now? Did you say that when you left the Doko family, we didn't make things difficult for you and gave you the free choice, and turned around to take revenge on us?" Doko spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders and said, but his eyes betrayed him. The eyes staring at Berezov, who was sitting on the sofa, inadvertently glanced to the side. There, the muzzle of a desert eagle was facing his temple. As long as the other party pulled the trigger, his head would blow directly into rotten watermelon.

Berezov is a small man, so small that he will not show any demeanor when wearing a windbreaker, but his face that looks like a Russian can often make people unable to tell the difference between his nationality: "Then what do you think I should do? The two heirs of the Doko family rushed to my nest without even calling. I didn't call the Siberians because of their past affection." He held the beer hand and shook the bottle slightly, took a sip and continued, "Also, don't be with me, the Tidoko family. Back then, my mother and I had suggestions to save the Doko family. I had connections in the Siberian company and let them take someone to deal with SAS, but you don't want to."

"What? Do you really want our father to leave this world and let the Russians stand up for the Doko family? Your shit-filled head really has a good idea. If the Russians set foot on the territory of the Armenians, I'm afraid every Armenian will be driven out. Who can drive them away then?"

"wow!! Are you here to repeat the insulting words your mother said to me today?" Berezov expressed dissatisfaction.

Click! Click! Click! Click!

The sound of the pistol loading was heard one after another in the room. Berezov's hands were pulling the bolt fiercely, and some people directly pulled the "hammer".

This is what Doco and Damas encountered. Their cousin did not seem to show any affection. Instead, he greeted them with a cold muzzle after opening the door.

Yes, Berezov, whose business was about to be robbed, was also crossing the river with his opponents, and his opponent was devouring his territory. The police near Beverly arrested him almost when they saw him. The Siberian company was gradually losing trust in him because his ability to work was gradually declining! At this time, Doko, who was about to be unable to make the Armenian area, came, and they knew what they were thinking. Although Berezov knew that they did not dare to move himself on the Russian territory, they could not make these guys feel that they were getting worse and worse after leaving the Armenian Doko family, right?

"The Duoke family is over."

Doko did not continue to argue with Berezov, and reached out to pull the gun that was fixed on his head, and said this with a feeling of sorrow. When he walked into Berezov from the room full of guns, he did not seem to take the scene seriously.

Dong.

The beer bottle in Berezov's hand was thrown directly on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Coincidentally, the beer bottle did not overturn, but stood there after several shaking: "I know!"

He was a little sad, like a once extremely brilliant building that was about to be blown up during the government's reconstruction project. The guys who lived around who had seen this building with their own eyes would be more or less sad at this moment.

"Sas is enough to crush other families in the Armenian region. Is that right? When I left the Doko family, I thought that Saas will take action one day, so I won't be able to become cannon fodder under the Doko family."

Belizov waved his hand, and his subordinates slowly lowered the gun, but those people did not put the gun away and slowly leaned against the wall with a siege to ensure that Doko could kill him as soon as possible when he had any moves.

Doko sat on the sofa, right next to Berezov: "Cousin, we need your help."

"Stop dreaming." Berezov responded: "Do you think my six subordinates can withstand the entire SAS family?"

"No, I'm not talking about this. We need money, you have to give us a chance to make money... what did you say later?" Duoko said in disbelief: "You only have six subordinates left?"

"There are about 20 more in the police station, but I can't afford 1.26 million bail. It's a serious crime in the United States for drug use."

Duoke quickly said, "You mean, there are not even people delivering goods now?"

"ye, what!" Berezov seemed a little excited.

Opportunity, the current situation Berezov is in is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Duoke: "Then why don't we cooperate?"

"are-tempt-high(Are you taking drugs?)??!!"

Berezov immediately glared at his eyes, and his men raised the gun in his hand again as his attitude changed.

"I can help you regain your lost business and the trust of the Russians. I promise that everything will follow the rules of the Siberians." Doko would never give up this opportunity, even if he faced the current situation.

"Do you know what you're talking about?"

In that second, time was solidified. Duoke, who was born in a gang family, knew the dangers of this matter too much, because there would never be two equally competitive lions in the lion group in this world. In other words, as long as Berezov noticed any danger, no expression could stop the bloodshed. After all, it is no longer a ninety-year-old world. When only love is left in the song and only business is left in the movie, the world of gangs is naturally only money.

"Damas." Doko shouted: "Why don't you tell Berezov about your plan."

Damas reached out and pulled Duoko's clothes. His eyes were full of reluctance. Duoko's plan was tailor-made for the three brothers. Wouldn't it be too generous to give it to others for free?

Duoko understood the importance of it. Through the conversation and observation just now, Berezov's situation was almost exactly the same as that of the three brothers. It was like two people who were desperate to escape only by supporting each other, but these two people could not trust each other. If they did not break the barrier of trust, they would be destined to achieve nothing.

"Say, say everything you said in the car just now." Doco bet.

Damas said reluctantly: "The drug dealer in Los Angeles has loopholes that we can exploit. Many drug dealers are low-educated people in slums. They lack knowledge and develop this business extremely irregularly..."

"Who are you looking down on?" Berezov was already unhappy before he could hear a few words.

Doko quickly comforted him, "You'd better hear him finish."

If Berezov hadn't been in the current situation, he would never have been tolerated again and again. Now he is like a terminally ill middle-aged man, and has already experienced the joy of living and the sweetness of luxury. He does not want to die or lose everything he has now. In this way, it becomes inevitable to seek medical treatment in a hurry.

"The basic sales situation of street gangs now is, flag (unit) = 0.25g, half grams, grams, youth (1.75g), eight balls (3.5g), ounces."

"Hey, little guy, I don't need you to tell me this."

Damas ignored him and explained to himself: "But it is not actually the case. Customers usually get 28 grams per ounce, but it should actually be 28.35 grams, eight balls should actually be 3.54 grams, and youth should be 1.77 grams. In other words, customers actually get less goods than they should get."

Berezov argued: "Who cares about this? My client is a rich man living in Beverly Hills."

"You should ask where all the goods went," Damas corrected him. "In today's online society, we can check whether the goods purchased online are shipped and where it is, just because a guy who works in a supermarket is too chaotic to invent the cargo positioning system. When this positioning system is used in a courier agency, they can always check where the things they bought are located and how long it will be shipped. So the courier company has won the trust."

"About a few years ago, I also conducted a similar experiment. I was completely out of curiosity. I bought some drugs under the full surveillance, and then made the next major discovery. Do you remember that this is a quad-digit country. This made us accustomed to converting data such as 0, 2.5, 5.0, 7.5. I think 0.54, 0.77 is simply a big trouble. And drug dealers have never lacked purchasing power. Hawkers only do four stolen but never enter five stolen. The interesting thing is here. According to this calculation method, when all the goods are packed, there will be more, and those goods are filled with personal pockets."

While Berezov turned his head and looked at his subordinates, a guy carrying a desert eagle excitedly raised his gun and pointed it at Damas and scolded: "You - he - mom - are talking nonsense!"

Damas thought it was normal and said, "The whole of Los Angeles is doing this, what are you afraid to admit?"

"This is one of the disadvantages of the drug dealer industry. How can those big men living in Beverly Hills weigh the weight of the goods after they get addicted? What's more, no one has calculated how much they will suck after they become addicted. In other words, no one except those insiders will know this."

Berezov was shocked. He saw a gangster student. Damas seemed to know all the pros and cons of the business. When this guy grew up, he must be a criminal genius like a "lucky boy".

"Cousin Berezov, imagine if your people told all this in the process of shipping and said sadly, 'If someone hadn't reported us to those damn policemen, we would have just done our own business honestly and would never have said these bad rules to compete' What kind of curiosity would that a wealthy man buys two goods separately when he is free to compare? If your goods happen to meet the weight I said, in this country that pays great attention to credibility, you can win trust."

"This is just the first step. As long as this topic spreads, you will have more customers in your hands. Next, you will take the second step."
Chapter completed!