Working as a police officer in Mexico

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The beach with mines and the dockside.

There were dead with severed legs everywhere.

Most of them wailed all night—who would come and treat you?

You hope Victor would come and treat you?

Forget it... even Satan laughed out loud.

Kennedy led about 50 captives, making them walk in groups of three, hand in hand, side by side, "just walk back and forth three times."

The drug traffickers looked at each other.

Their legs trembled uncontrollably, and they couldn't help taking a step back.

Rat-a-tat-tat...

Bullets swept the sand behind them, stinging their heels. Kennedy's sinister voice came through, "Step back, and you die! If you're not willing, we'll kill you and use your bodies to detonate the mines."

You can't reason with the people on Guadalupe Island.

You think you can buy your life with money?

If you're killed, the money will be Victor's anyway.

Surviving is simple, abide by the law and cherish nature.

Under the coercion of the guns, the drug traffickers held hands, relying now on their luck.

Boom!

The first group hadn't gone far before their luck ran out. They were blown sky-high; the three of them truly suffering and dying together.

"Next group!"

The sounds of explosions sporadically erupted on several beaches, occasionally sounding almost pleasant.

After more than two hours.

Kennedy looked at the drug traffickers lying on the ground, drenched in sweat, less than 10 remaining, and just smirked, "Congratulations, gentlemen, you're still alive."

"Over there..." one of the traffickers pointed at the ones with limbs blown off, still wailing.

"They're beyond saving."

Kennedy walked up to an injured trafficker, whose ears were gone and half his face was blown off. He clicked his tongue twice, "May Victor bless you."

Biubiub!

He gave the man two shots.

This was mercy from Mr. Victor!

"Get up, get up!" Kennedy yelled at the traffickers to stand, kicking those who were slow to rise.

They were handcuffed together in a chain.

The others panicked.

"What... what is this?"

"Didn't you promise you'd let us go?"

"Don't worry, we won't take your lives. Director Victor keeps his word; it's just a parade through the streets! You wanted a look inside Guadalupe Island, didn't you? We'll give you a tour!"

...

Humvee police cars drove through the residential area, the loudspeakers blaring: "Residents, the great Police Director Victor has defeated the coalition of drug traffickers!"

"Please, all residents, come down to the streets to cheer our victory!"

Why do these words sound more and more like those of a dictator?

"Victory! We have victory!" Santos, the number one lackey, a hot-blooded young man, excitedly raised his hands, dragging his brothers and Stephanie down the stairs.

"Mom, Uncle, hurry up, or we'll be too late," he said, not forgetting to greet Valentina and the man Dexter before leaving.

The streets were filled with cheering crowds.

They stood on either side, craning their necks.

Waving flags they had somehow acquired with vigor.

"Here they come!"

Santos was short and couldn't see, so he anxiously squeezed his way in, his face getting pressed out of shape by someone's backside, until he finally got through.

He saw Humvees one after another, mounted with heavy machine guns, dragging the drug traffickers behind them.

Excited cheers surrounded them.

"Right! These drug traffickers should all be shot!!"

"Yes, there's no good end for drug trafficking. Mr. Victor did the right thing."

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"I say just kill them all, the Director is really too kind."

Santos, listening to the conversations around him, also felt proud, continuously telling others, "Mr. is my Godfather, and he's going to baptize me in a couple of days."

Upon hearing this, the residents all looked surprised, then patted his head, "Then you must learn well from Mr. Victor, he is an excellent police officer."

"Mmm-hmm, I will eradicate all the criminals in Mexico!"

The adults nearby chuckled and encouraged him.

Just then, the cheers became louder; Santos looked over and saw Victor sitting on a Hummer, waving at them.

As if...

Reviewing his subjects?

The "Duke of the Island" on Guadalupe Island was already flaunting his military strength to his people!

Looking at the imposing Victor, Santos's face showed longing.

In his mind, his belief became even stronger.

To follow Victor, to learn from Victor, to become Victor!

Those drug traffickers hung their heads like the walking dead, utterly spiritless, this is called heart-crushing. Do you think living longer is better?

Committing a crime on Guadalupe Island, the death penalty is the most "mild."

Biang!

Matamoros!

The golden AK47 slipped from Abrego's hands; he squinted his eyes, "Failed?"

"All dead..." El Mencho said with his head lowered, his tone also carrying a hint of disbelief. He admitted he did not believe the drug trafficker "Coalition Forces" would win.

It was his intuition, but he never thought they'd be defeated so quickly.

"Even a thousand pigs couldn't be caught in one night!" Abrego exclaimed, pulling at his hair, "Benjamin is just an idiot!"

If Benjamin were still alive, he'd certainly cry foul. That firepower wouldn't be able to catch pigs, but it could certainly roast them.

"We can now take over the territory in Baja California, but this will directly conflict with Victor," Abrego said, now truly a bit fearful.

Benjamin is dead!

Tijuana is going to be reorganized, the Felix Family all lined up together, decades of drug trafficking just vanished?

Could the Abrego family face the same fate?

El Mencho, seeing the hesitation flicker across the other's face, said, "Boss, we should seriously consider upgrading our weaponry on a large scale, and we need to hire the most professional instructors.

"From Africa, Europe, even Asia, we can recruit more people to join. We need military-grade weapons as our backbone."

"No goods in the United States; we can turn to the Soviet Union. I've heard they're a bit strapped for cash lately. We can send someone over to see if there's any advantage?"

Look, he's now showing his "Fangs." As a child, with a house full of brothers and sisters, after finishing elementary school, he went to work and felt there was no future, so he smuggled himself to the United States and blended into various cities in California.

He joined the Mexican crime organizations, engaged in deception, kidnapping, and drug trafficking.

Multiple times arrested and imprisoned.

Now, at the age of 24, he already had over a decade of work experience; he was supposed to be deported back to his native Michoacán, where he had already found a connection to join the police force.

However, because of his cunning and ruthlessness, Abrego took notice of him, and that's how he became one of Abrego's men.

El Mencho saw it clear.

Mexico's landscape is changing, and drug traffickers are evolving into warlords!

"Boss, if we fall behind, we will be beaten! Tijuana is gone."

Seeing that Abrego was still hesitating, El Mencho added fuel to the fire.

After all, Abrego was decisive; he had brought a small organization to the level of a corporate group, which spoke to his methods.

"Take out 300 million US Dollars for the purchase of weapons!"

"I refuse to believe that Victor can keep supressing us if we compete with fire!"

300 million dollars worth of munitions might not be much for a major country.

But this is a drug trafficker...

The drug trafficker is also going to increase military spending?

El Mencho is truly Mexico's "King of the Scrolls."

With a single sentence, he persuaded a man to willingly pull out 300 million dollars for him.

It's more than Mexico's annual military budget.

In the future...

It's probably going to get even livelier.

...