I'm a spy in the film

"Blay... woooo."

Mia struggled violently.

Her legs kicked wildly in the air and her body twisted like a fish hooked out of the water.

However, no matter how she struggled, the arms locking her waist and the hands covering her mouth did not waver at all, as firm as iron, leaving her in despair.

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

With tears in her eyes, Mia saw the group of people laughing as they escorted her husband Brian into the villa, closed the door, and completely separated the couple into two worlds.

"Jack, you're going to lose your father."

Five minutes passed after the villa door was closed and Mia stopped moving completely, then Bourne let go of Mia.

She angrily scolded, "What's wrong with you? Are you kidding me? I just rescued you, and your husband fell into the trap?"

Mia (? ??皿??)?

"Don't say so much. I'm going to rescue Brian now. Can you stay here and wait for us to come out?"

Mia was about to blurt out "Of course."

But when the words came to my lips, I hesitated.

She wasn't sure if she could keep calm and not check when she heard any noise inside.

Perhaps, family affection and love are also a burden?

It was me who held Brian back. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have been caught trying to save me.

Bourne was speechless.

Does a woman’s brain stop working properly when she’s pregnant?

Is it true that pregnancy makes people stupid for three years?

Otherwise, why would this tough woman, who had never appeared in New York but had always controlled a big gang, become dazed and stupid and then cry after she became pregnant?

Is this really the tough guy Doretto's sister?!

"Okay, enough talking. If you really want Brian to be okay, then cheer up and find a place where you can see the gate and this location. I'm afraid I'll have to delay you for a while longer, Brian, huh?"

Bourne suddenly stopped talking and turned to look in the direction of the villa. An evil aura rose from that place.

"Voodoo!" Mia, who was sitting on the ground, also looked up in surprise, looking at the black skull mist appearing above the villa.

Others cannot see this thing, only wizards and witches like them who have learned voodoo can see it.

"Someone is making a stand-in doll."

"What is a stand-in doll?"

"It's a very vicious witchcraft. It uses the corpse of a baby under one year old, the blood of three strong men, and some other rare materials to create a substitute puppet that can absorb damage."

"How much damage can it absorb?"

"As long as they don't die immediately, they can be absorbed."

"Okay, I know."

Bourne was about to leave when Mia stopped him: "You, do you have any plans? How can you save people when you don't even have a gun? Why don't you go find my brother? He..."

"I'm going to save people, not to kill people. Your brother has other more important things to do right now. You should just hide and protect yourself. Don't wait for us to come out and catch you again. Then we won't be able to do anything."

Mia's eyes widened in anger. If the helmeted man in front of her was not indeed her savior, if it were not for her brother's absolute trust in her, and if Brian did not still need him to save him, she would definitely let him taste the curse that voodoo was best at.

With the last cover of darkness before dawn, Bourne easily entered the villa again.

The luxurious villa looks bright and beautiful on the outside, but it is filled with blood and ugliness on the inside.

In each prepared guest room, there is one or two young men and women, with their heads covered and tied up in a spread-eagle position on a restraint frame.

There are also opened bags of laundry detergent and various props on the coffee table.

"Bah, scum."

After walking around the villa, I couldn't find where Brian was being held. Could he be locked up in the basement again?

There is no other way to get there except to force our way in. It seems we need to find some weapons.

However, although this villa is large, there are not many weapons, or rather, the weapons are also closely guarded.

Come to think of it, no one wants to visit a place that is littered with weapons.

There was no choice but to go to the kitchen and get a dozen table knives to carry with him, and each of the knives had been sharpened by Bourne.

Back in the hall, there were indeed many people gathered here. The main guests were the seven people in strange costumes. The old butler in a tuxedo was directing the male servants to bring up the food in a smooth manner, and there were young and beautiful maids serving on the side.

These seven people seem to belong to different forces.

Sitting in the middle was a tall and thin man wearing a clown mask, a windbreaker, and a walking stick. The old housekeeper called him: Mr. Slit Mouth.

Next to the split mouth, a man and a woman stood on the left and right.

The man was tall and sturdy, at least two meters twenty-three, but he had a large face, slanted eyes, and drooling all the time at the corners of his mouth; the woman was a black woman, with cat-ear lights on her neat short hair, a low-cut red tight vest, two silver Glocks on her waist, and long legs.

To their left, there are two people, one tall and one short.

The tall one was a young man, wearing a tight-fitting suit with only his face exposed. He was also a black young man.

The lower one was an old man wearing goggles, rubber gloves, and a leather apron, just like an ordinary watchmaker. But the butler was very respectful to him and called him "Professor."

The remaining two people did not sit together, but sat one in the east and one in the south, opposite the two groups of people.

On the east side was a young man wearing jeans and a hoodie. He looked a little socially anxious. He kept his head down and muttered to himself.

The one on the south side was a middle-aged white man with ordinary clothes, a standard office worker hairstyle, glasses, an honest smile, and a slightly fat beer belly.

The only difference was that in his hand, a rag doll was taking shape rapidly, and on the coffee table in front of him, there were three already made dolls.

"Mr. Puppet, I think I have made it very clear beforehand. If you want us to take action, you need at least 10 substitute dolls, not the four on the table."

Mr. Slit Mouth, the man with a clown mask and a serrated grin, was the first to speak.

His voice was hoarse and unpleasant, like two pieces of broken iron rubbing against each other.

"Slit Mouth, who said these four belong to you?" The professor wearing goggles said with a smile, and ordered the young man standing behind him, "Gibson, go and collect our things."

"you dare!"

The black woman next to the split mouth quickly pulled out the gun from her waist and pointed it directly at the professor and Gibson. Gibson also drew his gun and confronted her without showing any weakness.

The other people in the hall turned a blind eye to the scene and didn't care at all.