Before he could finish speaking, Elvis suddenly interjected, "Hey, don't thank us, we're just following Mr. Pablo's orders, not here to help you."
Ethan's smile slowly faded.
"Also, I don't trust a pretty boy's plan. We'll handle our own team's operations, you don't need to worry about it. You just lay low at home, ok?"
"You get that?"
"3."
Ethan Hunt softly called out the number, and beside him, Benjamin, not understanding why, suddenly saw the former grab the ashtray from the coffee table, stand up, and swing it backward!
Directly hitting the head.
He grabbed Elvis's shaking neck, pressed it against the coffee table, and with a ferocious face, started smashing it onto his head, "Fuck!"
"Your mother X! I gave you three chances, and you're still babbling. What do you take me for? A soft persimmon?"
After three hits, the ashtray was smashed to pieces, you could see the bone on his face.
Benjamin jumped to his feet with a start.
