Working as a police officer in Mexico

Luciano, this DEA Commander, was no good guy.

In 1987, when the United States and Mexico jointly launched a drug enforcement raid on Tijuana's territory, he contacted the brothers Benjamin and Ramon, enabling them to escape and even sacrificing 17 Mexican drug enforcement police officers in the process.

That's right, the two brothers from Tijuana were the nephews of "Godfather" Gallardo.

They had once entrusted Luciano to assist their uncle in prison, so he had a good relationship with the former Warden, Webster.

That must be one of the reasons he disliked Victor.

The relationships in Mexico are incredibly complex.

"I'm asking you once more, sir, can you change it!"

"Security! Security!!"

Next to them, an interrogator yelled out loud, and someone rushed towards the outside.

"Stop!"

Victor shouted, and the members of the DEA quickly cocked their guns, scaring everyone witless.

Even Alejandro got scared.

"Victor... you need to calm down, you're a police officer!"

Victor turned his head and nodded with a smile, "Of course, I will not tarnish my reputation for a few scumbags who collude with drug traffickers."

"I just want to say, you have no right to judge me from a moral high ground, sir, you make the Mexican police feel ashamed!"

"Don't think that I don't know about your dirty dealings, Mr. Julian Bennett!" Victor suddenly pointed at a glasses-wearing interrogator, "You still remember what happened eleven years ago, right? If the United States Drug Enforcement Administration finds out it was you who took 500,000 US Dollars from Pedro Aviles to let him go, do you think they won't kill you?"

The man with glasses immediately changed color.

"And you, Lady Rebecca, you bore Aviles a son; oh, a female security official having a child with a drug lord…"

"You... that's nonsense!"

These bureaucrats were full of filth underneath their facades.

But in Mexico, such things were all too common.

A country in Latin America, desperate.

Victor looked at Luciano with a mocking glance, "Sir, I think you don't want your dirty laundry aired in public, do you?"

Luciano, with his face contorted in pain, had trembling lips.

He wanted to pull out the dagger, but lacked the courage to do so.

Victor patted his face, "So, don't mess with me, got it, sir?!"

He too wished to finish off these 12 people with a 'tat-tat-tat.'

But then...

He would definitely be wanted, and justice had to be flexible.

Report them?

Forget about it, in Mexico even the decision-makers are into drug trafficking.

In 2007, when the big drug trafficker Ye Zhenli was arrested, there were 200 million in cash at his place, of which 150 million US Dollars belonged to the then decision-maker in Mexico.

He was caught by the Americans.

The incident caused a huge uproar.

Who was Ye Zhenli? He smuggled ephedrine to Mexico and was almost the sole supplier of drug materials for the entire country.

If even the decision-maker was involved in such things, do you think there are any "good guys" left?

Mexico is fundamentally rotten to the core.

"I know you all have connections with the drug traffickers, and you're welcome to send them after me for revenge."

Victor flashed a gentlemanly smile, pocketed his hands, and walked away with his DEA team. Alejandro hesitated for a moment but followed suit.

After he left, Luciano's screams of pain grew even louder, and the other people around hurriedly ran out to seek help.

"Kill him! You have to find a way to kill him!" Luciano's face twitched as he said as quietly as possible to the others, "If he leaks what we've done, we're definitely finished."

"But who do you plan to have kill him? He's got people and weapons under his command."

"Then just transfer him out of Mexico City and throw him into the drug traffickers' Base Camp! I refuse to believe he can still be as arrogant on someone else's turf," Luciano said with resentment in his tone.

"Thrown where?" another person asked.

"The Tijuana turf!"

Luciano had deeper ties with them.

Everyone looked at each other, thinking the idea wasn't bad, to credit him with an achievement and directly send him on an external assignment, where his police rank could allow him to be a Chief.

But the average life span of a Chief of the Mexican Police was six months.

People died faster than they could be replaced.

They didn't believe he could survive!

If Victor heard their plan, he would definitely be ecstatic.

"Victor, you're too impulsive," Alejandro whispered, fearing he might get beaten up.

"Sorry sir, I just can't stand being interrogated by a few who've betrayed Mexico; it's a provocation to my honor!"

Alejandro heard this, and his eyes showed a complex expression, "Victor, there are very few police in Mexico who are as diligent and dedicated as you."

"There will be others, the skies of Mexico can't be dark forever." Victor thought of Samboerne, the first person he met who was full of justice.

Too bad, he was too stubborn.

"There are many things we can't change."

"We aren't born destined to change something, but to fight against something. As a child, I fought against my parents' arrangement of my life, as I grew up, I fought against the hardships life threw at me, now I fight against the destruction that drug traffickers cause to this world. As long as I'm not dead, the fight will never stop."

Alejandro stopped walking, "But what if you find a mountain behind you that you just can't fight against?"

Victor turned his head, took a cigarette out of the other's shirt pocket, and put it in his mouth, "Then just blow up the mountain, caliber can solve all problems. If that doesn't work, then increase the caliber."

As he spoke, he put his hand on Alejandro's shoulder, "Buddy, all you have to do is keep climbing up, and what I have to do is provide for your needs. Money? You need not worry; safety, you need not worry either. I will have someone protect your family."

"Don't you want to solve Mexico's problems? Perhaps a hundred years from now, you will be remembered in history like this: the greatest man in Mexico."

Welcome to flattery...

No more using names, just directly 'buddy.'

And honestly, Victor's eloquence was impressive; Alejandro was getting a rush of blood to the head.

But still being down-to-earth, he asked for specifics.

"What are the benefits of doing this?"

"Don't you think a peaceful and tranquil Mexico would collect more taxes??"

Alejandro got it immediately.

Damn!

To think your integrity was so high when, in reality, you also wanted to make money.

But what you said was truly tempting.

Isn't taxing the most profitable business in the world?

In truth, Victor also wanted to say that he was contributing to humanity, but that was too noble for him to utter. Making money while taking down drug lords was the most exhilarating part.

...

Victor declined Alejandro's invitation to dinner.

He still felt safer going back to prison.

Sitting in the armored car, Victor opened his eyes wanting to check his points.

He only glanced at it, and even someone as composed as he was nearly fell off his seat.

"10,789,000!"

I'm rich!

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