Psychics don't die from gunfire

Chapter 433 Anthony Sally

After a brief silence, someone suddenly screamed.

Then the tide that had been pushed to its highest peak suddenly collapsed, and the already noisy voices became even louder. Everyone rushed to try to run outside, and a group of people crowded at the door, appearing extremely chaotic.

"Not so good. If it were a corporate alliance, a bunch of people would be broadcasting live and trying to interview me." Song Shi shook his head regretfully and sighed, "Lapis Lazuli."

Then, abundant gravity arose, and in an irresistible manner, lifted up all the people in the venue, as well as the security guards who had received the alarm and were rushing here with guns in hand, and placed them on the street outside the nightclub.

Clear the area instantly.

No one was injured.

Except for Fitch and his friends.

"You are, a psyker!"

His crashed brain finally started working again. Fitch first opened his eyes wide, then calmed himself down and tried his best to make his tone sound gentle.

"My friend, your psychic powers are very beautiful, but accidentally damaging public property is not the same as intentionally hurting someone."

But Song Shi didn't look at him.

"To prevent you from accusing me of acting on my own whim and changing my mind at the last minute, I'm telling you now."

Song Shi put his hands behind his back, looked at the open sky, and said slowly: "Ten minutes, this is the longest time I give your uncle's brother to come to me."

The other party seemed to be completely ignoring him, which made Fitch secretly angry. However, after hearing what the other party said, the anger disappeared in an instant.

Or rather, Fitch almost laughed out of anger: "Do you know what you are talking about?"

After a while, the shock of seeing the ceiling burned through faded away, and he gradually gained confidence.

"Without the help of a prosthetic body, a pure psychic attack has such destructive power. Your psychic power has reached the second level, and your path is 'Great Source', right?"

The calmness that had originally been somewhat forced now gradually became real, and Fitch asked this question in an absolute statement.

During his break, he even took a sip of wine.

"It's really not easy for a psychic to make it this far." Fitch put down his glass and clapped his hands: "I admit that your strength should not be underestimated. If you want to capture an extraordinary individual like you in the city, the price you have to pay is really not small."

"So how about we talk?" Fitch smiled confidently, "Don't get me wrong, this is not a plea, and of course not a threat - it's just that you are qualified, my friend."

"Trust me, 'Lorati', my last name will get you a great contract."

Fitch didn't say how to resolve tonight's chaos, nor did he say that he already knew your purpose.

He just propped up his face with one hand, smiling even brighter: "You mentioned earlier that you wanted to meet my grandfather? Sure, with a powerful character like you joining, my grandfather will definitely not be stingy about meeting you."

He stood up, pushed an untouched glass of wine over, then picked up another glass and raised it.

"Of course, we need to talk somewhere else first."

Song Shi did not pick up the glass of wine.

Of course I didn't look at him.

Fitch kept holding the wine for several breaths.

His smile gradually froze, and then it became colder like solidified ice water.

Fitch didn't think his life was in danger, he was just unhappy with the other party's attitude, extremely unhappy. Even if you are a second-ring psychic.

——The Lorati family owns a third-ring [transcendence] person!

And when I think about it, even if the other party holds this attitude, as long as he accepts the family's employment in the future, I will most likely ignore the other party's rudeness because of the word "sensible".

He was even more unhappy. Those friends who were only there to flatter and have fun huddled on the sofa, looking around, not daring to speak rashly.

Fitch took a deep breath.

"friend--"

The roar coming from afar easily overwhelmed everything.

Almost in the blink of an eye, a huge, blocky shadow came over and covered the open ceiling.

In the next moment, huge white light poles from armed helicopters pierced through the haze, illuminating every corner of the nightclub.

The strong wind pressure seemed to lift up the entire nightclub, and a local storm blew up in an instant. Fitch's proud golden hair danced wildly in the wind, the dazzling searchlights shone everywhere, and a look of joy appeared on his pale face.

Because on the side of the helicopter, there was a painted mark with a black sword on a white background, which was the logo of the Security Bureau.

Instead of throwing down the rope ladder, eight fully armed special police officers, who looked like modern steel knights, descended from the sky. The ground rumbled continuously and eight pits were created.

After a large number of prosthetic implants, these special police officers who look just "burly" actually weigh nearly half a ton under their dark combat uniforms.

As Fitch's expression had not yet changed, they tightened the safety of their rifles and stood silently on both sides of Song Shi, like a human barrier, with their faces buried deep in the tactical eyepieces, unable to show any emotion.

Fitch was a little stunned, but soon, the stunnedness turned into coldness.

The entrance of the nightclub, which was already in a mess, was suddenly filled with hurried and even panicked footsteps, as if a group of people were trying to squeeze in. Within a few breaths, Fitch saw a familiar face.

That was his uncle's uncle's brother.

The Lolati family, the current head of the family, Bertram Lolati.

That face that used to be calm and composed, praised for its charm of "time", and aged but not decadent, now anyone could detect the astonishment and panic in the other person's eyes.

No, Bertram was not alone.

Fitch felt as if he was stepping on cotton, as if he was inexplicably light. The customized high-end artificial eye he purchased from Haita Trading clearly reflected the scene in front of him.

To the right of my grandfather was a slightly younger man, probably in his early fifties.

The Moore family, the current head of the family, Candy Moore.

On the left are the deputy director of the Panyan City Police Bureau, the Panyan City Manager, and the director of the Panyan City Finance Department.
These rulers of Panyan City—some of them were beyond his reach for the time being! After all, he was still just a descendant of the Lorati family—and now, these people gathered in this small nightclub.

Fitch felt a chill running down his spine, as if a frozen snow ghost had touched him. He tried to turn his neck, but he could only feel his neck creaking and his cervical vertebrae were frozen to death in place.

The crowded crowd tried to move forward and say something, but the howling wind shattered all sounds.

A figure stepped out from the cabin of the armed helicopter and landed unprotected in the air dozens of meters above sea level.

But compared to the loud noise made by the special police before, when he landed on the ground, he did not cause any vibration and the floor remained smooth.

He was a man who looked to be in his early thirties, his black suit combed meticulously, just like his stern expression.

He stood up solemnly from the position of landing on one knee, and started to move like a mechanical clock.

"Formerly the Ministry of Justice, under the Smalan Office, assistant to the director."

"Anthony Sully, reporting to you."

The man walked step by step to Song Shi and bowed slightly.

"Patrol and supervision, Your Excellency Song Shi."

(End of this chapter)