In the United States, where gun abuse is rampant and gun ownership is legal, has a gun ban been enacted?
Fang Zong's sense of crisis instantly surged!
"Fang!" At that moment, a greeting came from afar.
A jet-black Ferrari drifted across the street, its body still spinning, when suddenly the door opened and Peter jumped out, landing in front of Fang Zong.
He looked at Fang Zong.
Fang Zong was also looking at him.
"Is it your sister's address, or the address of your family's ancestral graves?" Fang Zong suddenly asked.
Peter shook his head and smiled, "A cup of coffee, please."
The two sat down on the lawn. The sun was shining brightly. Peter took a few sips of coffee, then pulled a whole stack of documents out of his pocket and placed them on the table.
Fang Zong immediately saw his name and title.
FBI, San Francisco, Director?
Promotion?
God's hell, he got promoted!
Fang Zong's lips twitched violently.
Peter laughed and said, “Our San Francisco was the first to clear out the ghosts. Coincidentally, when the governor was fighting the ghosts, he was beaten to a pulp by a clown-like ghost. So I was promoted to governor of California. As I said, now that I’m promoted, San Francisco is yours.”
Fang Zong remained silent, staring coldly at Peter.
Peter was a little embarrassed. He opened his shirt and wiped his sweat. "Fang, this is a high-ranking position with generous benefits. I hope you can stay."
"I don't care," Fang Zong said decisively.
Peter added, "Fang, stay here. Even if not for me, think of Sophia. She would also like you to stay."
"I'll take care of things in Sofia. Then, I'm going back to China," Fang Zong said in a somber voice.
"Why?"
Peter suddenly stood up and slammed his hand on the table.
He couldn't understand why this was happening.
The San Francisco branch manager wielded more power than the mayor, essentially equivalent to a regional governor in ancient times.
Why don't you stay? You want to go back to your country, but what kind of person are you if you go back?
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